Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“When you say it like that, I agree. No way he was involved.”
We’re both quiet, contemplating what we’ve learned and if it even has any relevance. Her head swivels, eyes locked onto mine. “Do you think someone should talk to him?”
I hesitate, thinking of King and how Penn swore him to secrecy. “Maybe. But not sure what good it would do. King’s already tried.”
“Maybe talk to Coach?” she suggests.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Penn clearly wants to be left alone and if we push it, it could really tear a rift in our on-ice camaraderie.”
We fall silent again, the game forgotten for the moment. Farren’s fingers linger on her phone, and I can see the worry etched in her features.
“Hey,” I say, nudging her lightly. “Let’s not solve Penn’s problems tonight. We’ve got enough on our plate.”
She gives me a small smile, but her eyes are still troubled. “You’re right.”
I reach for the remote, switching the conversation back to something lighter. “So, about you moving in…”
She groans, throwing a pillow at me. “I said I’d think about it. And only as roommates with benefits. And I’d definitely want my own room.”
“Just checking,” I say, grinning as I catch the pillow and toss it aside. “I don’t want you to forget.”
“I won’t,” she promises, her response teasing but guarded.
I move closer, flipping her onto her back on the couch and pinning her beneath me. Her breath catches, and I grin down at her. “Still scared?”
“Of what?” she asks, her voice soft but challenging. “You? Please.”
I lower my head, brushing my lips against hers. “Of us.”
Her gaze meets mine, and she looks uncertain. But then she smirks, her hands tangling in my hair. “There’s nothing to be scared of because there’s no us. This is just casual and fun, remember?”
I chuckle, kissing her softly. “Yeah, sure. That’s all we are.”
Her smirk falters slightly, and I know she’s thinking about all the ways this has already become more.
“You wouldn’t have stayed these last few days to take care of me,” I murmur against her lips, “if it was just that.”
Her hands tighten but she doesn’t say anything. Then she whispers, “Do you want me to run?”
“No,” I say firmly. “I want you to consider all the ways this might be different from what you’ve had before.”
“This situation isn’t different from what I had before.” Christ, those words pinch. “I’ve dated. I’ve lived with a man. I’ve taken care of and cooked for them.” Her eyes clear, locked on mine and believing in that bunch of bullshit.
“Maybe,” I say, brushing hair from her temple, my eyes roaming over her face. When my gaze is pinned to hers again, I add, “But I’m different from what you’ve had before. Focus on that.”
She doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t push me away either. Instead, she draws me down for a kiss that’s tentative at first, as if testing the waters to see if I feel well enough for more.
And I do.
Since words seem to bounce off her walls, I instead show her with actions how I feel.
CHAPTER 19
Farren
I wake up in North’s bed alone but this time, I’m not worried something’s wrong. It’s late morning and he’s let me sleep in.
That tells me a few things.
First, that he likes me in his bed, even if he’s not in it. If I were to take him up on his ridiculous offer to move in with him, I know he’d want me here every night and not in a separate room. If I’m honest with myself, I’d prefer to be here too.
It also tells me that he’s feeling better. He’s naturally an early riser, wanting to get started on his day no matter the schedule. As a night owl, especially when I’m tending bar, I sleep late. I’m sort of wired that way, but I have been getting up early when he does.
What I ultimately conclude is that North was very quiet getting up this morning, and I was so comfortable in his bed that I slept right through his exit.
None of that seems to bode well for my determination to keep things light and casual with him. He’s being thoughtful and my own sense of self-preservation seems to be all wonky when I’m around him.
He said it last night. “I’m different from what you’ve had before. Focus on that.”
He’d be shocked to know that I’ve thought about that a great deal. Every time I get a flash of panic that he’s getting too close to me, I take stock of just how different he’s been from anyone that I’ve ever dated. I play through my mind how much fun we have, how he makes me laugh, how I’m excited to see him, how I love him holding me at night and how combustible we are in bed. All things that make him different and I think about it a lot.