Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Look, a beautiful model cheering me on hadn’t magically translated to more ice time, but it certainly hadn’t hurt. And if the trade-off involved occasionally showing up in a tux at some chi-chi LA hipster event and rubbing elbows with rock gods and movie stars…well, okay—sign me up. The cool part was that Sienna was smart, easy to talk to, and sexy as fuck.
Best of all, she wasn’t interested in settling down or getting serious. There was no way she’d give a fuck if I retired in Timbuktu or some obscure village in outback Australia. So…yeah, the crease in her forehead that had to be working her latest Botox injection overtime confused me.
“Vermont,” I replied, kicking the sheet off and reaching for my cell on the nightstand.
“Ah, a family visit.” She pivoted to face me as she fastened her bra, sending her reddish locks cascading over her shoulder. “I thought your dad was in London for the summer.”
“Yeah, but I have friends I haven’t seen in ages and it feels right.” I let my gaze roam over her hips appreciatively and commenced mindless scrolling.
“Oh. How long will you be away?”
“Don’t know. Why?” I asked without glancing up.
“I have an event in Miami at the end of August. We’re launching a new lip-gloss line. Can you be there?”
“Hey, uh…” I dropped my phone in my lap and squinted at her. “Look, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but…we should move on, you know. I’m done playing hockey and—”
“So? You’re still a legend, and you’re hot.”
I pointed at my chest in faux disbelief, then shrugged and nodded. “I know.”
Sienna chuckled. “Of course you do. Just…stay fit and don’t get weird in Vermont. Seriously. If you show up at my event talking about fishing and hunting, I’ll pretend I don’t know you.”
“Ouch. Did I agree to Miami?”
“No, but you’re a sweetheart and you don’t mind doing a favor for a friend. And we are friends, right?”
“Sure,” I agreed, scrolling away while she redressed.
She moved into the bathroom and returned a moment later, slipping a high heel onto her right foot. “You know, you could always…unretire.”
“I’m not un-retiring,” I scoffed.
“Well, you could…that’s all I’m saying. You’re in good shape, and the fans love you. What if you played for LA or New York for a year?”
I furrowed my brow. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Stay here. Seattle loves you.”
“I love Seattle too, but it’s time to move on. I just put this house on the market and—”
“No way,” she gasped. “Why? Tell me you’re joking. This house is gorgeous.”
It was phenomenal, actually. My home was a custom-built modern masterpiece on Puget Sound with amazing views, but it was kind of cold and small. More of a tricked-out large condo than a cozy house.
“Yeah, but like I said, I’m outta here,” I replied, casting a brief glance her way. How long did it take to put on a pair of shoes, for fuck’s sake?
“Right. To Vermont. Sounds enchanting,” she snarked, her lips twisting like a kid who’d accidentally sucked a lemon wedge.
I could defend Elmwood’s honor, but what would I say? I grew up in a town the size of a postage stamp. It was so small that we had one market, one gas station, and shared a high school, a hospital, and a post office with the neighboring town of Pinecrest. It was quaint and picturesque but probably wouldn’t appeal to anyone looking for sophisticated entertainment. Or a Starbucks.
“It’s nice enough. And it’s super chill and laid-back.”
“Hmm. What do you do for fun in Elmwood?”
“We used to drink beers around bonfires while our parents played bingo at the church, so…bonfires, beers, and bingo.”
There was that lemon face again. “Fun.”
“It’s a little sleepy,” I admitted with a laugh.
“You won’t last a month,” she predicted, sauntering to my bedside. She cupped my balls through the sheet as she bent to kiss me. “Call me when you return to civilization, Vinnie. And don’t forget…Miami in August.”
I listened for her footsteps to recede, then the telltale sound of the door closing behind her before turning my full attention to the text message thread on my screen.
You’re coming home this summer? That’s awesome! I could use your help.
I’m not working at the diner, Ronnie, I typed.
Ha. It’s not my diner, it’s Nolan’s. And Nolan still hates you. But he might give you a job as a busboy. Text me when you get here. I’ll have beer ready.
I signed off with a thumbs-up and tossed my cell aside to scratch my nuts. I had a to-do list a mile long, bags to pack, and a few friends to say good-bye to, but as I headed for the shower, my brain took a sharp left and spiraled down memory lane.
Nolan still hates you.
Fuck.
I had to fix that. I wasn’t sure how, though.