Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
It’s just Alexei and I in the room then, and after our emotionally-charged group session, I’m too worn out to get hot and bothered over him.
“What about you?” I ask him. “Don’t you want to make some phone calls?”
He shakes his head. “I’m good. There’s no one I want to talk to.”
“No one?”
“No one but you.” He grins. “If I had your number, I could call you.”
I can’t help smiling. “What happened to being all business in group?”
He looks around the room. “I don’t see any group. It’s just you and me.”
God, I like the sound of that. But I also know how dangerous this conversation is. Before I can shut it down, Alexei ends it for me by standing up.
“I’ve been thinking,” he says. “I’ll do that session with you and my brother if you still think it’s a good idea.”
I slide my glasses up the bridge of my nose and say, “I do, yes.”
“Okay.” He puts his hands in the pockets of his dark gray sweatpants and gives me a brief, but sexy smile. “See you tomorrow, Dr. Wells.”
He leaves then, and I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath. There are two weeks left in this session, and I’m not sure if they’ll feel like the two longest or shortest weeks ever. Either way, I already know I’m going to miss Alexei Petrov—a lot.
14
Alexei
“Father Time, can you believe that? It sounds like a major role, right?” Joe beams at me across the table as we eat dinner. “And no prior acting experience. My kid’s just a natural.”
He’s been talking nonstop about his family since his phone call this afternoon. Apparently his wife, son and two daughters caught him up on every single thing they’ve done or said in the past three weeks, and now Joe’s relaying it all to me.
“And I’ll be out of here in time to see him in the play,” he continues. “What do you give a boy on opening night of a play? I know you’re supposed to give a girl flowers, but I don’t know what to get a boy.”
“Does he have a hockey stick?”
“No.”
“How old is he?”
“Nine.”
“Oh yeah, it’s time for his first hockey stick. I’ll send him one.”
Joe lights up. “Would you really? A real one, from your team?”
“I’ll send one signed by all the guys and another one he can actually play with.”
“Man, that’d be awesome, thanks.”
I remember then that my team is now the Chicago Blaze. I’ll never play with the Austin Comets again. And even though I’m strength training every day and physical therapy is going well, I may never play for the Blaze, either. I’ll have to get back to the top of my game physically to even have a chance.
Graysen catches my eye as she walks across the dining room, deep in conversation with a colleague. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a big bun, a few curls spilling loose.
“You got a thing for the doc?” Joe asks, sounding amused.
“What? No.” I look down at the vegetables on my plate.
“You do.”
I shrug, playing it off. “I haven’t been with a woman in more than a month and she’s pretty, so yeah, I’m looking.”
“She’s pretty, isn’t she? I didn’t see it when I first got here, but the more I get to know her, the more I see it.”
“Want to catch some hockey later in the lounge?”
“Yep,” Joe says through a bite of mashed potatoes. “Hey, you should ask her out.”
“You think?” I give him a pointed look. “Should I take her out for dinner here in the Beckett dining room and then ask her back to my room for the night?”
“Not now, asswipe. After we get out of here.”
“I might.”
I will, but I don’t tell Joe that. The last thing I want is to get Graysen in trouble by saying too much. I never would’ve thought a woman like her would be interested in me, and now that I know she is, I can’t stop thinking about her.
One thing I know for sure about Graysen is that her attraction to me has nothing to do with me being an NHL hockey player. I’ve never been able to say that about any woman. They often want to be seen out with me by going to high-profile places or they ask for tickets to games. It’s never about who I am, but rather what I can do for them.
But Graysen met me at rock bottom, and she still saw something she liked. She knows I may never play another pro hockey game in my life, and that if I have to retire, my whole career will be stained by my colorful exit.
Graysen stops to talk to Melinda, both of them laughing over something. One of the things I admire most about Graysen is the way I’ve seen her slowly breathe live back into Melinda, who was a broken woman when she got here.