Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He looks down at his hands, shaking his head before reaching over and pulling my chair closer to his. “The only woman in the world who wants to try to be in my business.” He looks down at the floor. “This morning, I got a link from my agent,” he finally says, his voice cracking a bit as he tries to clear his throat. “It pretty much sums us up.” I look at him confused, as he hands me his phone.
I open the phone and see the article on page six, my eyes going to the headline. I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Please.” I don’t even bother reading the article. Instead, I just turn it off and hand him back his phone.
His face is filled with shock when his hand comes out to grab his phone. “It doesn’t bother you that you are with someone who is washed up?” he asks me, and I lean over, putting my cup of coffee on the floor beside my chair.
“No,” I say right away. “There is nothing in that article that bothers me because it’s full of shit.” I couldn’t be angrier than I am right now. I also know I can’t show him how angry I am because he’ll think it’s for a whole different reason. “Actually, I’m angry because it’s bullshit. Just the headline is pure fiction, to say the very least.” I look over at him, hoping that he sees me. “I’m not angry because of the words on the page. I’m angry that they took up space in your head. I’m angry that you sat out here thinking about it. I’m angry more so that I put you in this situation.”
He just stares at me, and I’m pretty sure he has no idea what to think right now. “But they—” He starts to talk, and I hold up my hand.
“There is so much wrong with just the title that I’m pissed we even have to address it.”
“How so?” His tone is low, and I wonder if he regrets coming with me. I wonder if he regrets it all.
“Well, there were a couple things wrong with that title.” I turn to look at him. “For one, since when am I a hockey princess?” I shake my head. “And two, you walked away from the game when you could still play. That’s not washed up. Washed up is someone who can’t even get on a team, not someone who has GMs vying for them.” I get up from my chair and go in front of him, getting on my knees and holding my hand up to grab his face. “No one, and I mean no one, especially me, cares what people write in the newspaper.” I try to be strong, but knowing that in the blink of an eye, I can lose him is just too much for me. The tears run down my face. “What do you want?” I ask him, holding my breath, waiting for him to answer. “Deep down inside of your heart.” I search his eyes with mine, seeing the light is slowly coming back to them. “What do you want?”
“I want a team that has my back,” he finally says. “I want a team that will be okay with me talking about not being okay. I want a team that is willing to be open about mental health and all its struggles.” His voice trails off. “I want a team that I can be proud to be a part of.” He puts his hand on top of mine. “I want to help people who are suffering the same things I’m suffering but are afraid to speak out.”
“So let’s make it happen,” I tell him, smiling.
“Just like that,” he says, and all I can do is nod at him.
“Just like that,” I repeat, moving my head close to him, closing the distance as I kiss his lips. “If anyone can do this, it’s you,” I reassure him.
He shakes his head. “It’s amazing how much faith you have in me.”
“I wish you could see how amazing you are through my eyes.” I smile at him.
I stare into his eyes when he says the words. “I love you, Vivienne,” he says softly, his forehead touching mine. “I am in love with you.” My heart that I thought was beating a mile a minute before picks up even more. “This is not the way I wanted to tell you how I feel.” He kisses my lips softly. “Although I must have told you about fifty times that I love you without you knowing.” I chuckle, the nerves from not long ago gone.
“That doesn’t count.” I laugh finally without the pressure on my chest. “The only thing that counts is I said it first.” He pulls me up and turns me to sit on his lap. My arms go around his neck as my head rests on his shoulder. His arms hug me tight around my waist.