Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
My chest tightens. I can guess what that is. “The ‘don’t get involved with a hockey player’ one?”
She winces but nods. “Yes. It was a little…weird.”
“Does he know? Or suspect?” I ask carefully, my jaw ticking.
“No. God, no.” She takes a beat. “He’s just doing his due diligence, I think. It was more like I know how hockey players are—charming and most don’t want to settle down yet, so be on your guard. That kind of thing.”
If she only knew I’d settle down with her in a heartbeat. My failed relationship with Joanne wouldn’t even stop me. I know how to work hard and learn from the past. So if I could, I’d explore the fuck out of this ludicrous chemistry that crackles and sparks every time we’re near each other. I’d see her every night and prove the lie in her father’s statement.
But I also get that proving him wrong has to be earned.
Over time, with evidence, and probably not while I’m trying to become co-captain. It’s too complicated. That’s the big issue—I’ve got responsibilities, plans, and most of all, a second chance.
I don’t want to fuck with something that required so much work and so much rehab to get.
“Your dad’s right about one thing,” I say, keeping things light.
“What’s that?”
“I’m charming as fuck.”
“So cocky.” She shakes her head, amused.
“You’re not denying it.”
She leans forward, locks eyes with me. “I think we’ve already established I’m charmed by you.”
“It’s the same for me.”
I say it quietly, but she hears me. Her smile is soft, borderline sexy. We’re silent for so long that it threatens to tip over into something else, something warm, something dangerous.
But then, Leighton sits taller and clears her throat. “Anyway, the promise we made to never be alone together might need revising due to work circumstances.”
The idea of working closely with her sparks excitement that has no business zipping down my spine. I should focus on the team, the potential captaincy, my family, the increased media scrutiny from Tyler on the team, two Falcons playing together. Already, the press requests are coming in fast.
“We’ll need to interact one-on-one sometimes,” I say thoughtfully. “Maybe the best way forward is to focus on building a genuine friendship.”
Her smile spreads, nice and easy. “I’d like that, Miles.”
I arch a playful brow. “So no stalking?”
“I don’t think friends stalk each other.”
“But they can have coffee and pastries,” I say, offering her a fork.
She takes it with a reluctant laugh, but a flicker of something warmer in her eyes. “Let’s be friends. It’ll be easier that way.”
If friendship is all I can have with Leighton, I will take it. Oh hell, will I take it. “Everyone can use a friend.”
“They can,” she says, then hands me the other fork.
We dig into the caramel toffee bar at the same time, the tines of our forks clinking. That feels a little like a metaphor.
And since friendship starts with talking, I point my fork at the bar, saying, “Caramel and toffee? Do you think Birdie’s saying you don’t always have to pick sides.”
Leighton thoughtfully polishes off a bite. “So you’re saying this pastry is kind of subliminal messaging?”
“That feels like Birdie’s style.”
She laughs, warm and bright, and peers down at the treat. “I don’t think she’s wrong. Too much of a good thing doesn’t necessarily make a bad thing. Maybe it just makes a very good thing.” She wiggles her brows. “How’s that for philosophy?”
“Very philosophical, Shutterbug,” I say.
She digs in her fork again, nodding to the front of the shop. “Have you two always been close?”
“Definitely. She helped raise us—my brother, sister, and me—after my dad left.”
Leighton sits up straighter, her expression shifting to something tender. “Wow, that’s…big. So she wasn’t just a grandmother who took the kids to the park and gave good birthday presents.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice softening. “She helped Mom a ton. Picked us up from school, took Tyler and me to hockey, did animal rescue events with Charlie—my sister has always been into animals. Birdie did all that before Mom remarried. And after too, honestly.”
“That’s great. Not that your dad left,” she says, her tone caring. “But that Birdie was a big part of the family.”
“Now and then. And she still is. When everyone moved down here from Seattle, she moved too.” I pause, flashing back on the life and times of my grandmother. “I think she misses the rain though.”
“Does it really rain there a lot? In Seattle?”
“All the time. Constantly. It never stops,” I say, then lower my voice, as if sharing a conspiracy. But I keep my gaze locked on her. “It’s our best-kept secret to keep people out.”
She laughs. “Smart. I won’t say a word.”
“Appreciate that,” I say dryly, then add, “what about you? Are your grandparents around?”
She takes another bite before answering. “Same as you. When my mom left, the grandparents jumped in to help out. They still give Dad a hand with Riley when he’s…” She stops and winces as a storm cloud seems to pass over her. “On the road with the team. It really means a lot to us both. They made sure I didn’t have to be the grown-up, you know?”