Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“Yeah. But we don’t have you or Lavender at our place. And she can make a mean lasagna.” He doesn’t even have the decency to sound apologetic about it.
I look to Treble. “We’re in.”
Half an hour later, ten of us are sitting around a table at Eddie’s, an off-campus restaurant and bar, rehashing the game. Eddie’s is not far from where Kody and I live. The food is better here, and the chances that I’ll run into one of the girls I’ve formerly dated is lower.
Normally I’m a social guy, but I’m exhausted from all the freaking worrying, and my head is still all over the place, so I find myself zoning out, watching the hockey game on the TVs above the bar and plowing through my plate of wings while everyone else picks apart tonight’s game and speculates on how our next game is going to go.
When the game on TV goes to commercial break, I hit the bathroom and stop our server to tell her we’re celebrating a birthday. I ask her to bring out one of those brownie sundae things and put it on my tab. I need a reason to smile.
On my way back to the table, a flash of pale green catches my attention. I glance over at a woman wearing a long cardigan, sitting in a booth, with another woman seated across from her.
Professor Sweet.
She doesn’t notice me as I pass her table, but when I return to mine, I realize I have a perfect view of her from my seat.
Her hair is down, falling in loose waves around her shoulders, like it was when I met her in Pearl Lake. She looks younger with her hair down, and if she traded the cardigan for a hoodie, she’d probably look like a student.
“Should we get the bill?” Kody asks when I take the seat next to him.
“In a minute.” I drag my attention away from my professor.
At that moment, a gaggle of servers comes down the aisle, heading for our table.
“Ah, fuck.” Kody tries to slouch down in his seat.
“Like I was going to pass up an opportunity like this.” I put my arm around his shoulder—in part to keep him from bolting—and whistle loudly, pointing at him. “This guy right here. He’s the birthday boy!” I shout. Kody’s birthday is in April, but they don’t know that.
The servers break into an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday,” and I join in. But that’s not the best part. It’s the sparkler in the middle of the sundae that looks like a mini firecracker, shooting sparks three feet into the air.
“I’m gonna get you back for this. I hope you know that,” Kody gripes.
“You have to get used to the attention, my man. You’re going to be breaking NHL records in a matter of months.” I give his shoulder a squeeze and drop my arm as the sparkler sputters and dies out.
He gives me a sidelong glare, but a hint of a smile pulls up the corner of his mouth. Even though Kody is one of the best players out there, he still needs the praise. Sometimes I think he needs it more than most.
“You’re gonna be right there with me,” he replies, grabbing one of the spoons left by the servers. “It would be so awesome if one of us gets traded when we’re called up and we play for the same team.”
“It would,” I agree. But I’m aware that the chances of that are slim, and it’s more likely that I’ll be playing against him next year, not with him.
I glance over at Professor Sweet’s table, and for a moment, our gazes lock. She averts her eyes quickly, untucking her hair from behind her ear so it falls forward as she leans in. The woman across the table leans in too.
My stomach has been off since the whole sauna thing, but I still dig into the sundae. When Kody and I have eaten as much as we can, we pass it down the table.
I use the fact that my hands are sticky with chocolate sauce as an excuse to go back to the bathroom. It also means I pass Professor Sweet’s table again.
Like me, she ordered the wings, which I can appreciate. Wings are messy, and it’s hard to eat them with manners. As I’m passing, she sucks the barbecue sauce off her thumb and tosses the bone in the discard bowl. I should not find that sexy, but I do. Her gaze shifts as I come into her line of sight, and her cheeks turn pink.
I nod, but don’t acknowledge her otherwise. On my way back from the bathroom, I spot the server that’s taking care of her table and pay her bill on a whim before I settle Kody’s and my tab. When I get back to our table, he’s already got his jacket on, ready to go, so I leave, sparing Professor Sweet one more glance. She’s frowning at the server who motions to our table, but I’m not there anymore. I don’t know if I just nailed my coffin shut or what.