Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
But the volume of his words doesn’t matter. The reality of what he has said hits me square in the chest. “You’re absolutely right. I was selfish and wrong not to tell you sooner,” I say, emotion choking me. “I’m truly sorry, but I was so caught up in us. Everything else didn’t matter.”
He moves his hands from my hips, gathering me closer, much to my surprise. “I get it,” he murmurs against my lips. “I felt the same.”
Felt.
I bite my lip, my heart aching, and I look down at his chest. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes as I ask, “Does this change things?”
He grasps my chin, guiding me to meet his eyes. “It changes nothing.”
“Are you sure? You’re not mad?”
“Not mad. Surprised, but not mad. I get it. It’s easy to get lost in just us when there isn’t anyone or anything to remind us of real life.”
I sigh deeply, nodding. “Too easy.”
“Absolutely,” he says, moving his hand along my throat, stroking the vein in my neck with his thumb. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
My throat goes dry. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses me softly, and I lean into it. Needing it to know he isn’t upset with me. He has every right to be mad, take his jersey, and walk away, but he doesn’t do that. He only holds me, running his thumb along my throat. “Are you going to tell him, or do you wanna just do our own thing?”
I shake my head. “I think that’s where Austen messed up, by not telling our peepaw. I want to be honest. I plan on telling him before I come to the game Friday.”
“How do you think that will go?”
“Fine. I’m not worried about it. He tried to ruin Dimitri’s career, but then Austen quit the Bears and it really hurt him. I think he learned from it and only wants us to be happy.”
He blinks. “He tried to ruin Dimitri’s career?”
I grimace. “Yeah, but he’s trying so hard to get back his relationship with Austen, I don’t think he’d do it again.”
He grimaces. “That’s a little worrisome.”
“Do you want your jersey back?” I ask without really thinking, and I hate how small I sound.
His brows furrow deeply, his eyes pinning mine with a look. “I don’t.”
“I’d understand—”
“Lou,” he insists, cutting off my words, “my jersey belongs on your body, okay?”
His eyes burn into mine, waiting for me to agree, but I feel so guilty. “I feel like I hid this from you, and that wasn’t my intention, I swear.”
“I know it wasn’t,” he tells me, holding me so there is no space between us. “It’s okay. Everything is fine.”
Then why does it feel like it isn’t?
CHAPTER 31
Ciaran
How I didn’t put two and two together is bizarre and truly unlike me, but then again, I’m pretty sure I know why I didn’t. Like she said, when we’re together, nothing else matters. I’m too thoroughly taken with Louisa to worry much about anything else. That should concern me, but really, it only reinforces for me that this is real. That getting out of that truck a few days ago was an action beyond my control. Louisa belongs in my arms, my face nuzzled in her neck, and that sigh she makes is a song for only me.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not waiting for the other shoe to come crashing down on me.
I’d be stupid not to feel that way. This is all going too well, too easy, too perfect, and it would only make sense for something like the owner of the team to come between us. As I gaze into her eyes, I find myself praying that it doesn’t. That Dan Davenport accepts me and knows my dating his granddaughter has nothing to do with how I play hockey.
I lean my head to hers, kissing the bridge of her nose as I beg God to allow me to keep this beautiful creature. To let me have happiness for once after everything I’ve dealt with—the failure of not making the NHL, everything Mikayla did, and the fact that I’ve deprived myself of happiness for years.
Please, let me have her.
“I think you’re mad.”
I open my eyes at her whispered confession. Her eyes are darker, more greenish-brown than the blue they were when I first got here. I cup her jaw in one hand, my other still stroking her throat. “I promise I’m not. Just surprised and a bit nervous he’ll forget that I’m a good hockey player, not just the guy defiling his granddaughter.”
As I wanted, she grins, but she shakes her head. “I don’t want to stress you out. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll take care of it.”
It blows me away how easily she takes ownership of all this. I’m used to being blamed or taking the brunt of any wrongdoing, but that’s not how Louisa rolls. She’s honest, she’s beautiful, and she’s a dream.