Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Uncle Matthew wants to take me golfing,” he says as he walks to the kitchen and makes himself a plate.
“Um, why?” I ask, walking over to the door and letting Mac out.
“He heard through the grapevine that I went to talk to Nico today,” he replies, and my eyes go big.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask him, not sure I understood him. My hands start to tremble as I walk over to the other side of the counter, not sure I can sit next to him. “You met with Nico?” I inquire, and he cuts a piece of his salmon and takes a bite.
“Yeah,” he says. “Erika was here this morning, so I went to meet with Nico.”
I swallow, trying to come up with the words to tell him not to do that. I don’t know if I can handle us living in the same city when I’m trying to get over him. “Are you really thinking about moving here?” I thought having him here for a visit would have been hard, so I can’t even imagine having him living here full-time. My head spins around and around as I think about the excuses to give him as to why he shouldn’t move here.
“I have a couple of choices,” he tells me and I hate myself for not being there for him. It’s not his fault I feel this way. I push down my head screaming at me to run away and instead go to sit next to him.
“What are your choices?” I ask, holding the water bottle in my hand in front of me. My eyes are on the label instead of turning to watch him eat. My hands are moving so nervously that all I can do is turn the bottle around and around on the counter.
“New York and Pittsburgh,” he says, and I look over at him now.
“New York?” I ask, shocked. I get why Uncle Matthew wants to take him golfing. Even though he’s not the GM of the team anymore, he still has a seat on the board and is very involved. “You’ll be playing for your father.”
He nods his head. “Um, forgive me for saying this, but the last time you did that, it did not go well.” He laughs.
“I was fourteen, and everyone was fawning all over him.” He glares at me. “I didn’t like it.”
“Oh, we know.” I laugh and push his shoulder with mine, something we’ve always done when we were teasing each other. “I believe you told one guy he liked your dad better than his because his was bald.”
“He did have a bald head.” He tries to justify how he behaved. “And was also looking at my mother every time she walked by.” He takes a bite of his veggies. “Pervert.”
I can’t help my full-on belly laugh. This, this right here, being with him and laughing and talking is how it’s supposed to be. I’m not supposed to want to be in his arms. I’m not supposed to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. All of these thoughts should not be entering my mind. But when he looks at me and smiles, all I think about doing is leaning in and kissing him. He would probably never talk to me again and look at me with disgust each time. “Do you know where you want to go?” I look at him. “I’m sure you can pick any team you want. Especially with your stats and numbers.” There is no denying that Dylan is good at hockey. He’s the best I’ve ever seen on the ice. Every year, his numbers reflect it, always making him the one to beat.
He nods. “That is what Erika said. I don’t want to go to a team that is in a rebuild because if that is the case, I could just stay in Montreal.” He sounds like he has so much on his mind, and I know he needs me to be there for him. I’m just not sure I’ll be left standing at the end of this.
“Which team are you leaning more to?” I ask nervously, holding my breath the whole time.
Please say New York, I silently beg, or Pittsburgh. Basically, anywhere but here. “I haven’t really decided. I want to sit down and look at all my options before I commit. It’s a big fucking deal.” I just watch him. “Being drafted is easy. You just get to go to the team that picked you, but sitting down and thinking about a team you want to go to is a whole different ball game. I’ve never had to make this decision, so I’m doubting everything I know. Which I shouldn’t.”
“It’s going to be a big step,” I say. “All you know is Montreal, and you’re starting over again. It’s like the first day of middle school. You were the cool kid on campus in elementary school, and then all of a sudden, you’re back at the bottom, and you have to work your way up.” I shrug. “You know what to expect with your teammates. You know what to expect with the organization. Starting over is …” I try to think of what I can say to make things a touch easier on him.