Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
This explanation only partly soothes my ire, though, and I call him.
He answers immediately. “How am I supposed to sleep here? My bed smells like you.”
“You’ll manage. And you’re not off the hook yet. Chase, there are a lot of people in my life trying to manage my choices. Please don’t be one of them.”
He hums thoughtfully. “Zoe, I apologize for not asking. That wasn’t cool, and I won’t do it again. I just thought my dead relative’s paltry estate might ease the way while I watch you take over the world.”
“Good save,” I whisper, and he laughs. “How did your secret lunch go?”
“Pretty great. My buddy said nice things about his team’s management. It’s a viable option for me.”
“That’s great news,” I lie.
“Hmm,” he says. “Are you eager to send me to Canada?”
I hesitate, wondering how honest I should be. When I picture him packing up his apartment and moving to Montreal, I want to cry. I couldn’t even get a work permit there. Not easily.
“Zoe. Just level with me. I know this is all brand-new. You and me. Well, old, but really new. But we wasted a lot of time already. So the idea of moving to Canada is suddenly less attractive than it was a couple weeks ago. Tell me I’m not overreacting.”
My heart leaps. With a full twist. “You’re not overreacting. I hate the idea. But Montreal isn’t our only obstacle. Nolan Sharp has made no indication that he’s willing to sign me again. In fact, the last guy quit in frustration. So if I can’t keep a job with the Legends, then…”
The sentence just hangs there, where neither of us is willing to finish it. But in truth it might not matter where Chase goes, if I can’t get a job in New York.
“Right.” He lets out a breath. “You deserve a good job, too, with a team who appreciates you. Just like I do. Wherever that takes you.”
Silence descends once again as this sinks in for both of us. Until this morning, I was gung ho about sending out another round of emails this spring to try to leverage my Legends experience with another team. I got this far, damn it. I can’t stop now.
But the pull I feel toward Chase is as strong as ever.
“We’re worrying about this way too soon,” he says suddenly. “I can’t even negotiate with Montreal until July. Sharp will push me to sign with him sooner, but Bess can stall.”
“Okay,” I say quietly.
“So let’s not stress about it. Not yet, anyway.”
“You’re right.” I clear my throat. “There’s one other tiny unrelated thing I need to tell you. Not a big deal, and I don’t want you to stress about this, either.”
“Uh-oh,” he grumbles. “Why do I think this could be bad?”
“It’s not, so don’t yell,” I say primly. Then I tell him about the lipstick art in my locker.
He does yell. But he takes the phone away from his mouth first, so I only hear the distant echo of a very loud “MOTHERFUCKER!”
When I return to the rink two days later, there are two things waiting for me.
One is a new smoke detector right above my locker, with a suspiciously shiny black dot at the center of it. I see it right when I walk in.
The other is Chase, who’s kneeling in front of my locker with a bottle of Windex as Aiden passes him a series of paper towels.
“You guys really didn’t have to do that,” I insist.
“Sure we did,” Aiden growls. “What a shit show.”
“All clean,” Chase says, stepping back. “Did you reprogram your combination yet?”
“No, but I’ll get on that,” I promise. “Let’s skate. We’ve got ice time.”
“Is it time to sparkle?” Aiden sets down the paper towels and makes jazz hands.
“Sure, bud,” Chase says easily. “Gonna sparkle like a goddamn disco ball.”
Aiden snorts. “Can I watch?”
“No,” we both say in unison.
Chase gets his figure skates from Bernie, and we head downstairs to the big rink. Since the team has the night off, I was able to book this bigger space.
On the bench, Chase reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Coming over later? I asked Marnie to marinate a couple of steaks. I’ll grill ’em on the patio.”
“Yeah, but…” I reach down and remove his hand from my knee. “Not in this building.”
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I thought about you a lot for the last forty-eight hours.”
“Same,” I whisper. “I’d love to come over.” Steaks grilled on the terrace? It takes me back to snacks on the rooftop. I wonder if he has the same thought. “If you can promise me you’ll be well-behaved in this building.”
“I’ll be good,” he says, rising from the bench. “Until you tell me I can be very bad.”
A zing of electricity runs through me. But Chase heads out onto the ice and starts warming up with some crossovers and spirals.