Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“We don’t have to go in and eat,” I say flatly, staring out my window at nothing.
“No, let’s go. We’re both hungry and you said Manny makes the best omelets.”
We both open our doors and get out, neither of us saying a word as we walk to Magnolia and go inside. We also don’t say a word to each other as everyone introduces themselves to Knox and the guys steal him away to talk hockey.
Somehow, we manage to get through the entire breakfast without speaking to each other. And also the ride home.
When Knox parks and walks me up to my door, I already have my key out and the building door open before he gets to the top of the stairs.
“Hey,” he says softly.
I turn away, fighting against the knot in my throat.
“Reese, will you look at me?”
I shake my head, not wanting him to see the tears in my eyes. He sighs deeply.
“I love you,” he says. “And I haven’t loved very many people in my life. I don’t want you to go. But I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed about it.”
“I need to go inside,” I say, because I know I’m about to burst into tears.
Love is like a wheel of colors, each one representing an emotion. And Knox brings all of them out of me. I’ve been sunshine yellow with joy, the brightest shade of pink with arousal and the deepest red with anger. Right now, though, I’m not sure what color I am. I just know I hate it.
“I need to be alone,” I say. “Just give me some time alone.”
I don’t know if I’m talking about now, for a few days, or forever. Alone is certainly easier, even if it’s not nearly as colorful.
“Okay,” Knox says. “Call me.”
Still not looking up, I nod and go inside the building, my back to him as I walk toward my apartment. And when I hear him jiggle the handle to make sure the building door locked behind me, the dam breaks and my eyes flood with tears.
Chapter Nineteen
Knox
I tug on the laces on my skates, trying to break them in before our game in an hour. I’ve been wearing them for practices for the past couple days, but they’re still too new for my taste. I don’t like any changes to my equipment or pregame routines.
And since I look busy, none of my teammates are talking to me, which is good because I’m in no mood. Reese hasn’t said a word to me since I dropped her off at her apartment Sunday morning, and it’s Thursday now. I’m about to play in the game Mia invited her to, which means she’s in fucking New York right now.
Anton’s quieter than usual, too. Everyone knows why. His brother Alexei’s long, public crash landing is continuing. Alexei was ranting about his team’s goalie to a reporter, and now his entire team is pissed at him. When we played Austin the other night, Anton told me to stay back from his brother because he wanted to be the one to ring his bell, and he did. They got into a fight on the ice that got them both bloodied faces and five-minute penalties.
“Hey, man,” I say to Anton. “Doing okay?”
He looks over at me, the cut above his eye still looking angry and slightly swollen. “Yeah.”
“How’s your brother?”
“Still a dumbass.”
I pick up my skates and move over to sit next to him as I pull the laces tight and loosen them again. “You can’t change him,” I tell Anton. “Even if changing is what he needs.”
Anton exhales heavily, his expression grim. “I know. It just pisses me off that he’s been given so many opportunities, and it seems like it’s all a game to him.”
“Some people have to fall on their asses to figure their shit out.”
“Yeah.” He turns to face me and speaks in a low tone. “Mia thought she was pregnant, but she’s not.”
“Oh, shit. And you guys wanted her to be?”
He nods. “The doctors have told her she can’t get pregnant, but she was more than a week late, and we thought maybe…but she’s not. She’s taking it pretty hard.”
“I’m sorry, man.” I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks. Don’t say anything. Luca and Vic know, but I don’t want anyone else to find out.”
“I won’t say a word.”
He looks down at the ground. “It’s hard to be away from her when she’s hurting. That last road trip really sucked.”
“I had no idea.”
“Hey, Deveraux,” our defensive coach calls out across the locker room.
I stand up. “Yeah, coach?”
“I just got a message from the front office that you need to check your phone.”
My heart pounds with worry as I walk over to my locker and dig my phone out of my equipment bag. And once I look at the screen and see two missed calls from my mom and one from my sister, my heart practically stops.