Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
And yesterday, we planned for a romantic yet healthy dinner – here at Thayne’s – as well as binging a soap opera in Spanish, two activities we swore were gonna keep him away – at least long enough for us to have a bit of the under the shirt action prior to my having to leave for the night – but nope.
He ate chicken avocado quinoa salad with us.
Asked about Frosky.
Peck.
Would he get to hang out with them again soon.
At the very least before he was shipped back home.
Gobbled down another helping and cut up fresh melon for dessert.
Melon that he then ate most of while getting into the show with us.
I really like that he’s growing comfortable being here.
That he doesn’t have to put on some show or façade.
That he can be goofy and silly and just himself like his big brother.
I like that despite it not being long – at all – we have our own special thing.
I’ve never had that.
I mean…not of my own.
Don’t get me wrong.
I love living that aunt life and being there for my nieces and nephew – especially when my brother can’t be – but there’s just something so magical about having something/someone that’s yours instead.
That you’re not so much added to but building.
And I think we are.
I’m not trying to be the dude’s mom, anymore than his brother is trying to be his dad, but I do feel like he’s reaching for us to give that guidance or fill that absence and I don’t hate it.
I actually really like it.
Has me thinking and wondering about kids.
Kids with Thayne at that.
Something we can’t exactly make when our makeshift one is constantly cock blocking.
“Why don’t you let me make you a plate while you go rest your feet?” Jukes suggests on another sweet smile. “You’ve had a long a day.”
It was long.
And exhausting.
And a good reminder why I try not to perform that many root canals in one day.
“You sure?” I gingerly inquire. “I can make my own plate.”
“You can,” he lets his face crane down closer to mine, “but I don’t mind helpin’ take care of you.”
“I don’t mind that either,” thoughtlessly leaves me prior to our lips softly pressing together. Unfortunately, it’s cut short by my cell vibrating in my pocket. “However, I do mind if this is another emergency root canal request.”
“What exactly is a root canal?” investigates Bronny as I turn to head into the open living room where he’s stationed, my ass being given a loving tap during the exit.
“What you’re gonna end up having many of if you don’t start taking better care of your teeth,” I tease while retrieving my device.
“I had Rhonnie put us both on the schedule when I swung by today,” Thayne retorts, recapturing my attention.
“You stopped by the office?”
“Was in the area.” Our eyes meet again. “Met with med to go over my pre-season test results. Thought I’d stop by on the way back home. Make an appointment to get my teeth looked at considerin’ I haven’t since the trade that brought me here.” He casually begins scooping food onto one plate. “Say hi to the woman of my dreams.”
It’s impossible not to beam.
“Take her to lunch if she had time, which she did not.”
“Sorry that I didn’t.”
“Never apologize for havin’ a career, Gillybean.” He pauses his actions. “I don’t.”
Wow.
Could he get any more leading hero perfect?!
Not only does he think I’m fucking sexy and smart and irresistible, he supports me being me.
Figuring out who me is.
Encourages me to own the parts that I already know.
Ugh.
He’s written by Dean Devlin perfection.
Flopping down into the middle of the nude-colored couch barely precedes me hitting ignore on the incoming video chat.
It’s not that I don’t want to talk to my big brother.
My best friend.
The one person that’s always been my go-to confidant for just about everything.
It’s just that I can’t.
Not here.
Not now.
Not with his top tendy in the next room literally making me dinner.
Loading up our text thread quickly occurs afterward.
Me: Out for dinner. Chat tom?
M: Ofc.
M: And tell the dude that you’re dating he’s getting “going to the cup” interviewed when I get back.
Yeah.
He still has no idea that I’m dating one of his players.
And I heard what Hennington said.
That shit couldn’t have been any clearer.
It was basically in closed captioning.
I need to tell M.
I hate keeping this from him, it’s just that I don’t wanna do it over the phone.
I wanna do it in person.
Directly to his face.
Preferably after he’s chugged down plenty of brewskies, a plate of wings, and been promised doggy on the stairs because the kids are with their grandparents for the night aka his version of a Gordie Howe hat trick.
Thayne eventually joins me on the couch while his brother hits play on the show.
For the first few minutes, all I hear is frantic crunching so loud that it tempts me into not eating at all; however, the instant Bronny gasps so hard, he chokes on a chip, the two mouths with legs slow down.