Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
But he was also hard on him — way harder than he ever was on me.
It was like Aleks was the son he never had, and Daddy was never shy about his expectations. I’d witnessed Aleks get a reaming more times than I could count, especially when he first moved in with us. He was reckless then, quick to break a rule as soon as my father laid it out.
Over time, I watched their relationship morph. Aleks began to respect my father, and soon, to almost idolize him.
Still, there was something there that I didn’t quite understand, some kind of riff between them. Maybe it was because my father always knew Aleks could do better, be better.
Or maybe it was because Aleks just wanted my father to leave him alone.
He wanted everyone to leave him alone.
“Rich, you know,” Aleks said, content to drop the parent subject. “That you’re lecturing me about my drinking while you suck down a bottle of wine.”
“It’s one glass.”
“Sure. You forget I know you. I’ve seen you play slap the bag and drink a line of defensemen under the table.”
I chuckled at that particular memory, one from a high school party where I’d let loose maybe more than I should have.
And then my smile slipped because that was the same night I’d asked Aleks to kiss me.
The same night he’d told me he never would.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, what about you? What rules do you want to put in place?”
“Hmm…” He tapped his chin. “Well, this is a pretty long dry spell you’re asking me to have… does that offer of you blowing me still stand?”
My jaw hinged open at the salacious grin on his face.
“Aleks Suter,” I scolded. “If you were here, I’d splash you.”
“And I’d do a victory dance because then those bubbles would be gone.”
“You’re impossible.”
He chuckled. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Whatever rules you want to put in place, I’m fine with. Truth be told, after talking to G… I really do think you’re saving my ass. Dick will be thrilled with the brand deals and ticket sales. He’ll be happy to see some media attention on me that isn’t negative.” He shrugged. “And, not that I really care that much, but I guess it’ll be nice to not lose my job.”
“You’d die without hockey.”
The way his shoulder inched up again, his eyes avoiding the screen…
It made my stomach drop.
Because that look told me there was truth behind that statement I’d said as a joke.
And if he’d die without hockey, and he didn’t care if he lost his job, then that meant…
“Aleks…”
“I’ll be good. Promise.”
I swallowed, not wanting to drop this without talking about it, but knowing him well enough to know it would be useless to try.
“He says, with devil horns holding up a crooked halo.”
Aleks gave me another sleepy grin that had me flashing back to high school again, to when we’d stay up long past our bedtimes talking about everything and nothing at all. I could almost smell him, ice and sweat and mint. I could almost feel his arm brushing mine and my cheeks heating as I tried not to let him see that I had a crush.
A foolish girl, that’s what I had been.
“I’ll make a list,” I said. “But you should get some sleep.”
“Oh, now she’s concerned about my beauty rest.”
“I’m getting pruny and need to get out of this bath.”
“Now that’s a sight worth losing sleep over. Just prop the phone up and—”
“Goodnight, Aleks.”
He was still laughing as I ended the call.
How to Act
Aleks
I think I should be scared.
It seems like the right emotion to feel as a sixteen-year-old leaving their family and country behind to stay with a bunch of strangers, but I don’t feel it.
Then again, I don’t feel much at all most of the time.
My foster mom knows this about me. She asked me only once if I had everything I needed when it was time to go to the airport, and then she sat with me in contented silence until the moment I had to board my plane. Because I was a minor, she was allowed through security to sit with me — and I think she knew that alone was enough.
With a kiss on the cheek and a smile, she let me go with a promise to call every Sunday and to be good for the family that was being so kind to house me.
Mom never fusses with me. She knows how I am.
I love that about her, that she doesn’t try to change me. She doesn’t try to make me like my foster siblings, the ones I’ve seen come and go while I’ve stayed put. Some of them are smart. Some of them are funny. All of them are good enough to be adopted.
But not me.
If I’m not scared, maybe I should be excited.