Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
He’d barely come back once he left for college. I knew there had been some time off, but the rumor mill said he spent it at other athletes’ houses and in pre-training programs. This was a different world than even the college football team.
Here, there was a relaxed but professional vibe in the air. Also, a no-nonsense feel, too. Like, there was no room for tries and missteps. You either did whatever you did, or you were replaced by someone who would.
I was a little in awe, but also I knew in the back of my mind that if this had been a normal day for me, no recent trauma or loss happening, that I’d be way more intimidated by Stone—and the Stone in this world—than I was now. I was taking note of everything, almost like I was protected in an invisible car and the frame was made of firm, unbreakable glass.
Sounded weird, but it was what it was. I felt a layer of something that I couldn’t place all around me, so I wasn’t really experiencing every moment to the fullest. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. And I wasn’t going to question it.
He swung through a drive-thru and pulled away with enough food to feed a six-person family. Chicken sandwiches, minus the buns. Fries that he said were for me. Salads galore. A couple burgers, but mostly chicken. Also, grilled chicken.
The attendant fainted when she saw who was at the wheel, and a bunch of other employees came over. Stone handled it all with a polite smile, signing napkins for them, and a hat that had the fast food’s logo printed on it.
I asked when we pulled away, “Is it always like that?”
“No. Nah. Just it’s the day after a win and I don’t usually stop during the day. I’m usually coming or going at odd hours. Team’s local, too. I might get recognized only a third of the time if I were somewhere else, you know?”
I didn’t, no.
He wasn’t waiting for a response, and twenty minutes after that, he was pulling into my neighborhood. I almost sighed a little because finally I could recognize something.
“Forgot how stressful new things are.”
I was half-musing to myself. He spoke up, “What?”
“Coming here. I didn’t know anyone before I got here, and just now, I recognized the street. It made me feel comfort or something. Is that weird?”
“Makes sense to me. A lot of work goes into learning new things, places, people, and that’s not even counting your schooling. My mom said you came down here to study marine biology?”
I felt my face getting warm. It was so far from where we’d come from.
“Yeah.”
He was side-eyeing me, slowing down to park in front of my house. A few other cars were already there, and those were more things I was recognizing. Like Noel’s car. Wyatt’s car. The girls’ cars were all in the driveway and mine—I had a clear line of sight to my own parking spot from where we were parked. It was completely empty.
“Shit.” I forgot about the car. “I have to get a new car.”
His eyes flicked over, shutting the engine off. “I might know someone who’s looking to get rid of a car. Nice car. He’ll give you a deal.”
“What? You’re not going to buy me one?”
He stilled, his eyebrows pulling low. He had reached inside one of the bags and his hand paused before slowly pulling out one of the chicken sandwiches. “I could… Your debt, your schooling, the funeral costs, that was on Dad to make things right for what he did to your family. Hospital bills, paying for the towing, I took care of that. Those bills aren’t anything anyone in your position should take on, not when someone like me is there and knows you, and it just seems the right thing to do. But actually, buying you a car, I can. Thought that’d be personal, though? You’d like to pick out what you want. I know you have hang-ups about accepting financial help from someone who’s not a bank or a scholarship grant.”
His words touched me. “Thank you, and no. I was kidding. I want to do it myself.”
Just would take me a bit to save up.
I frowned. “How long do I have to take it easy with this concussion?”
“Two weeks. And if you push to be let out of the house, you and I are going to go a few rounds. You’re still struggling with remembering things.” He nodded to my lap. “Case in point, I’ve told you three times to start eating those, and you had no clue I was even talking.”
I looked down. There I was, clutching the small wrapper of fries, and I did faintly remember him telling me to eat them. I also faintly remember saying I would, and meaning to do just that because I liked fries, and then…Yeah. Distraction.