Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Still means absolutely nothing.
Especially now, with Tennessee in my life.
“Rina, you know why,” I say softly, holding her gaze. “I have to play with Thatcher, and I can’t have bad blood between us on the ice.”
“He’s just being a stupid big brother. He doesn’t want you to hurt me. It’s cool. We’ve talked about it. He doesn’t care.”
That’s not true, though, and I’m sure as hell not throwing Thatcher under the bus. I’ve already slept with the girl he loves—which makes me a dick, and he’ll always hate me, just as I hate anyone who has touched Tennessee. I get it, and I know for a fact that he cares.
“I still think of you. Maybe we can catch up?” she suggests, but I shake my head.
I exhale. “Rina, it’s been almost six months. I’ve moved on, and I’m very much in love with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? You made it clear you weren’t interested in settling down.”
“I hadn’t met her yet,” I say simply, holding her gaze. “Listen, I gotta call my mom. I’m gonna go—”
She laughs. “So, you’re blowing me off again?”
“I’m not trying to be a dick,” I say as I move past her. “But I never should have hooked up with you, and it won’t happen again. Ever.”
“Fuck you, Dart,” she seethes, and I agree.
“I deserve that,” I call back to her, and I do. The guilt of hurting Thatcher still burns in my gut sometimes, especially when I see him, but thankfully, I haven’t had to lately. He did something to his knee and hasn’t been traveling with us. I’ve apologized, but I know he doesn’t forgive me. Which sucks, but it happens. Not that I have the mental space to deal with that right now.
Not when I gotta deal with the incubator I’m supposed to call my mother.
I walk down the hall, dialing my mom’s number. When she answers, though, I hear the sounds of a bar in the background, and my anger takes over.
“Dart, I can’t hear you!”
“Then go outside,” I demand as I head out into the chilly Chicago air. I lean on the wall so that I can see the bus and make sure it doesn’t drive off without me. There is no way in hell I’m not going home tonight. I wait until I no longer hear loud voices in the background before I say, “What the hell, Mom? I send you money, and you’re at a bar?”
“I came to unwind, Dart. You don’t know how hard it is to work two jobs and take care of your sister. It’s exhausting.”
“Two jobs? You barely work either of them, and Sabine should be the only fucking job that matters,” I fume, my voice low and dangerous. “What is wrong with you?”
“Who are you talking to? I am your mother.”
“Hardly,” I mock, shaking my head. “You did nothing for me. Grandpa did, and don’t you forget it. Do right by me by taking care of Sabine.”
“Whatever. I don’t have to sit here and listen to you bitch at me for having a good time!”
“You are supposed to be taking care of my sister, and if you don’t want to, sign the rights over. Give her to me because I will take care of her and love her the way she deserves!”
“I do love her!” she yells at me, and I laugh.
“You don’t know how to love. And if you don’t get it together, I’ll take you to court.”
She laughs at that. “You think they’re gonna take a girl from her mother and give her to a hockey player who fucks his way through the week? Please.”
Her words hit me like a freight train, exposing all my insecurities. “I’m in a relationship.”
Her laughter is taunting. “Just until you get bored and find someone better to wet your dick! Face it, kid. You’re me made over. We aren’t ever satisfied with one person—”
“I am nothing like you!” I yell, my body shaking. “I am like my grandpa. I am a good man, a good person, and I love my sister. I will not give you a lick of money until I see that you are caring for Sabine.”
“Ha! Then you’ll never see her again.”
My stomach drops. I fucking knew it. “Is that a threat?”
“Dart, you have no fucking claim to her. You are nothing to her—”
“I am everything to her.”
“Because you buy her shit. That’s all.”
“No, I love her.”
“Dart! You don’t know how to love. You only know how to spend money and fuck, and that’s it.”
“The words of a mother,” I spit out, disgusted by her. “You are trash.”
“Takes one to know one, son. So, go fuck yourself, and if you withhold the funds, you’ll see what happens.”
She hangs up, and my hand shakes so badly it hurts as I stare at the bus, my vision clouding. I drop the phone to my side and lean my head into the brick of the arena. As the tears burn my eyes, her words taunt me. I know they’re not true. I know she was trying to hurt me. And she did because I was like her; I was fucking my way through the week, but that changed the moment I met Tennessee. Or it did once we got together. Fuck. Am I like her? No. I’m not. Fuck me. I run my hand down my face, and I swear I’m not like her. I can’t be.