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)
The tiniest crack of his jaw lets me know the information has sunk in.
“Like I said…” this shrug is less innocent than I’m trying to let on, “wear whatever you want. Boots. Kicks. Flops. Choice is yours.” Our stares stay latched onto one another’s. “You’ve got six minutes to get to the car, or you’ll be taking the bus.”
“You wouldn’t make me take the bus.”
An impish eyebrow lift is all he’s given.
“Th-Th-Thayne…wouldn’t…let ya…”
“Whose idea do you think the bus was?”
Laughter leaves us both however afterward he asks, “Can I drive?”
Holding back a fearful scowl is even harder than the active listening shit I just pulled off.
“I need more hours,” he gingerly reminds. “Remember, I finished all my app shit Sunday.”
“You did.”
“And I need highway time.”
“You do.”
“And non-ideal conditions…”
“Which game day traffic certainly qualifies as.”
“So…” eagerness grows in his gaze, “is that a yes?”
“Fine.” His smirking naturally sparks my own. “But…”
“Totes ear emoji.”
“If you scratch or dent or wreck my car, your allowance is covering it until the damages are completely paid for and you’ll be grounded until Christmas.”
“Easy.”
“Of next year.”
“Done!” Bronny enthusiastically exclaims on a fist punch to the air.
“Five minutes now.” I resume my trek down the stairs, grin still lingering. “And you can’t drive my car if you’re busy riding the bus.”
Post grabbing my keys, beanie, and confirming Joey’s text regarding where to meet for the big photo as well as sending M his traditional pre-game “you got this” message, I’m joined by my boyfriend’s younger brother who is not only wearing the same hat he did for their family photo, but his Dalvegan jersey and the boots Thayne bought him the same day he bought me mine.
Hiding my giddiness isn’t impossible, although, necessary.
I know what happens when he sees your win.
I’ve watched enough telenovelas to learn a thing or two about what the villain will do in response.
And Bronny isn’t exactly a villain.
He just has villain-like tendencies.
Again.
Hormones.
There’s so much shit to blame on those things.
Including bad breath.
Something he also has often.
His chemical fluctuation being the cause of that is a fifty-fifty shot, honestly.
You would think the boy is allergic to toothpaste the way his mouth is rarely minty fresh.
Our drive from their place to the barn is about as smooth as I anticipate. To no surprise, he can handle himself comfortably behind the wheel – early learning on country roads I’m told – and the stop and go, we’re in a crunch type of traffic, gives him ample opportunities to learn the unpleasant behaviors of downtown drivers.
I won’t give my blessing to the sixteen-year-old giving someone the middle finger; however, I won’t condemn it either.
Especially not when it’s my front end you almost take off.
At the arena, we’re ushered to the family area where we find Slayers, parents, hatchlings, and best friends all gathered around sporting their respective jersey and cowboy boot combos. Unlike some of the younger, tinier, females, flouncing around in their cut off jean shorts along with bedazzled hats, I went for black leggings and black beanie in hopes of blending in.
Not drawing too much attention.
Any attention really.
Yes, I want Thayne to know I’m here, see I’m here, feel supported like I mentioned earlier, but I don’t want him to be embarrassed by the fact I’m so much older than the other Slayers.
Or curvier.
He’s explicitly expressed the only opinion he cares about is his own, and I trust him.
Okay.
I’m trying to trust him in that department.
He’s never given me a reason not to.
My insecurities on the other hand?
They always betray me.
That’s why it took me so long to start to wear “fun scrubs” to work on the regs rather than just solid colors.
Kel-C – lead social manager – Pascual – lead social director – Lummy – lead photographer – and Falhaber – lead camera operator – all swarm around the space grabbing snapshots or footage of us naturally lingering before moving onto more coordinated efforts with a bit of help from Hoss, who clearly misses what was once her job.
Afterward, Slayers and hatchlings – and me and Bronny – are escorted to the glass area on the home side where we congregate to welcome the boys as soon as they hit the ice.
Warmies music suddenly begins prompting us all to cheer with enthusiasm and excitement at the indication they’re headed in our direction. Pre-season footage of the players flashes on the jumbo screens center ice until the lights flick back on for us all to watch this season’s pulled up rookie take his lap prior to Jukes leading the rest of the team out.
While some players take to first slapping around the practice pucks and stretching with a plan to come find their Slayers next, others come greet their family first with a plan to get the juices flowing second.
Frosky is in the latter, shit eating smile too big for Hoss’s liking considering how she gags and tells Bella – who she’s happily holding – to stick her tongue out to convey it.