Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“I have to figure out a way to fix this,” I say.
“You will,” Blakely says.
“You just need a minute to figure out exactly what you want,” Reese adds. “Pair that with some brutal honesty? And Paxton will listen. He'll understand.”
I blow out a breath.
Blankly scoops up the remote and clicks on the TV. “I'd say we need a really good reality show to distract us.”
I laugh, leaning my head against Blakely’s shoulder. “I feel bad,” I say. “It's already late and we have to get on the bus early tomorrow morning for the away game.”
An away game that Paxton will be at, which make my nerves tangle even tighter in my chest. Luckily, he’ll be on the player bus while I’m on the staff bus, but still, could I be able to figure out what I needed to do to earn his forgiveness by then?
“One episode won't kill us,” Blakely says.
“Yeah, you just need a brain cleanse, and then we'll crash and figure out things in the morning.” Reese adds.
“I love you both,” I say as the documentary starts.
“Love you too,” they both say at the same time and then a silence settles over us, comfortable yet tense for me as I don't really see the documentary play out in front of me, lost in my own head as I explore my heart's needs, and realizing every scenario that I go through is pointing to one clear crystal answer.
I just hope Paxton will listen to me.
My mom’s face fills the screen of my phone, her pre-dawn robe still clinging to her shoulders.
“Are you all right?” she asks by way of answer. “You never FaceTime me before eight a.m.”
“Sorry, I have to head to an away game soon, but I needed to ask you something.”
Mom looks me over, the eyes that match mine likely sizing up how exhausted I look. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Kind of. Just…” I sigh. “Old trauma is making my present life a bitch.”
Mom’s brow furrows, but she waits for me to continue.
“Marriage,” I hedge. “You still believe in it?”
“Clearly,” she says. “Or I wouldn’t still be hanging around with your dad.” Just the mention of Dad as has eyes lighting up in a way I’m not even sure she notices.
My heart fills with hope.
“If you were going to propose to someone, would you wait until you could create some big epic presentation or act on the moment?”
She gasps, her hands covering her mouth for a moment. “Are you and Paxton getting engaged?”
I clench my eyes shut, but can’t hide my smile. Reality quickly wipes it away. “If I can fix things, maybe.”
“I always knew you two were heading down this road!” She squeals, then tilts her head. “What do you mean fix things?”
“I may have overreacted about something yesterday. It was our first fight ever. I don’t know if he’ll hear me out—”
“Oh, yes he will.” She waves me off. “Couples fight. It’s normal. Fighting doesn’t equate to a breakup.”
I nod, taking the encouragement, especially from an expert like her.
“So…if you were going to propose…”
“I wouldn’t wait,” she says with a shrug. “Elaborate proposals are cute and can be really thought out, but it’s the intention behind the act that matters. You want to be connected to this person forever. It’s a big step that doesn’t always need bells and whistles but instead brutal honesty.”
“That makes sense.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks, a smile shaping her lips.
“Apologize,” I say. “That’s where I’ll start. The rest?” Anticipation fills my chest. “We’ll see. I have to hope he’ll forgive me first.”
“Paxton is a good man,” she says. “He’ll hear you out. Just be truthful.”
“I will,” I say. “I’ve got to head out. I miss you.”
“Miss you too,” she says. “Keep me posted!”
“Will do,” I say, then end the FaceTime with my mom still squealing with excitement.
I want to share in that elation, but I know I have to fix things first.
If I can do that…
Maybe the rest will be possible.
CHAPTER 19
PAXTON
I skate around near the goal, shifting my position to skate backward as the Tampa Bay Lightning takes possession of the puck.
My focus is solely on the puck handlers heading toward me and Fender guarding the goal behind me.
I’ve put every ounce of my frustration into this game, earning a penalty in the first period that had me sitting out for two minutes. I’ve been more careful this period, and now the clock is about out.
We’re winning now, but if they score, we’ll go into a shoot-out.
I don’t want that.
I want to win. I want to control something in my world when it feels like it’s spinning out.
The Lightning cranks his stick back for a shot, but I swoop in, taking my opportunity to steal the puck, sliding it over to Lawson who takes off toward the opposite goal.