Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
It doesn’t matter though. None of it does.
This girl could stick a knife in me, marry my best friend, and disappear for a decade, and so long as she came back for me in the end, it would. Not. Matter.
Only one thing does.
My fingers stretch under the Ziploc covering them, the tips brushing against her bare knee.
Slowly, her eyes come to mine.
I blink through the fog in my vision, trying to control the alcohol bobbing in my brain so I can hold her gaze. I reach out, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, my palm lingering in the spot.
Subconsciously, Payton turns into my touch, her eyes closing. “Mase.”
“I fucking miss you.”
Her whole body quakes.
“Can I hold you?”
She sucks in a choppy breath, those blue eyes on me.
“Please, Pretty Little…” My eyes start to close, my words more slurred than the last ones. “I need to hold you.”
“And I need to take care of you,” she murmurs.
My mouth curves at that, and I fall into my memories of the first time she spoke those words to me, desperately holding on to what happened afterward.
My life changed the last time she took care of me.
Everything changed that day.
But what will I wake up to tomorrow?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mason
Before, November
Tugging my sweats on, I towel dry my hair and step out of the hotel bathroom. Noah’s chilling in the same spot I left him, grinning at his phone like a fool.
“That better be my sister you’re smiling at, dick.” I hear her laugh and grin to myself as I slide back into the bathroom to brush my teeth.
When I come back, Ari’s girlish squeal fills the room.
“Ah shit, you told her, didn’t you?” I shout, popping my head beside Noah’s to catch a glimpse of my sister on the screen.
“Holy shit!” She beams, Cameron crowded beside her.
“I know.” A chuckle leaves me, and I give a playful glare when tears fill her eyes. “Knock it off.”
“Oh my god, Mase.” Her tone is thick with emotion. “You’re going to rock it.”
“Love you, girls.”
“Love you!” they shout.
I heave a long sigh, stepping out into the hall before I, too, get emotional. That would be embarrassing in front of my captain, but aside from that, I don’t want to get sappy when I’m juiced like this.
What I want is to share this with the first person who came to mind when I learned the news.
I pull her name up, anticipation firing inside me with each ring, but when her voicemail picks up in the end, a defeated breath pushes past my lips. I kick off the wall, ready to head back to the room, but before I make it a single step, my phone is ringing, a picture of an unsuspecting blond staring out at the ocean lighting up my screen.
“Pretty Little,” I answer.
“Superstar.”
My lips curve, and I can picture her smirk. “Why didn’t you answer my FaceTime call?”
“Not everyone can look as perfect as you all the time.”
“I mean, duh.” She laughs in my ear, and I lean back against the wall. I like her laugh. “If everyone could, my superpowers would be insignificant.” I pull the phone way, hitting the FaceTime button again. “Answer, Pretty Little. I wanna see your face when I tell you what I called to tell you.”
“You just want your way.”
“Also true.” I chuckle, nodding at two of my teammates when they walk by and moving so I’m a little farther down the hall. “Come on now, and don’t tear your lower lip apart thinking too hard about it.”
She goes silent, and I smirk to myself. A moment later, I’m accepting her video call.
She pops up on the screen, her head propped up on a mountain of pillows. Her face is makeup-free, hair spread out around her and wet from what I’m assuming was the shower, if her pink pj’s tell me anything.
She looks as perfect as ever.
My smile is ridiculous. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She smiles back, shaking her head. “I never thought a pregnant belly would help hold things for me, but a little extra blanket and boom. Hands free.” She wiggles her fingers, and a low laugh leaves me.
I can’t help but note the color in her face and lax expression. She’s having a good day. No dark circles or redness around the eyes. I don’t think she cried today, and damn if that doesn’t send a sense of pride through me. She’s strong, and I hope she’s starting to realize it. “You look good.”
She scoffs, pushing herself up and holding the phone back to show me her swollen belly. “I look like I swallowed a watermelon and got stung by a hundred bees.”
“Watermelon is my favorite.”
“And the bees?” She lifts a brow, her playfulness making me all the more eager to share my news.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask, knowing she’s going to roll her eyes cause we both know she’ll be watching my game, if only to text me something in her brand of silly afterward.