Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I don’t know, but I unload all my thoughts—about the community and my parents. He listens intently, his eyes never wavering and his lips pressed firmly together. When I finish, I let out a long breath, and he nods. “I told you I’d go with you to the meetings. It’ll make people more open to what you’re selling if they see us as a team.”
“I don’t want to bother you with it,” I admit, still clinging to him. “You don’t want to do any of this stuff, and I wanted to do it on my own.”
“But you’re not alone,” he tells me, holding my gaze. “We’re partners, right?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, running my fingers along the stitching of his hoodie’s pocket. “We are.”
“I’ve let you down, and I’m sorry. I want to do this with you.”
I look up at him through my lashes. “Only because you want to kiss me.”
His chuckle is low, dark as he gathers me closer. “I want to do more than kiss you, princess,” he says in the same rough manner as his chuckle. The words burn through me like a wildfire, and I don’t want to put out the flames. “But that’s not the reason I want to do this with you.”
“Then why?”
“Because we work great together. I had to swallow my pride to realize that and listen to my mentor from heaven. Now that I have, I want this to work.” He exhales a long breath. “Phillip was right to get you to stay here. I’m fighting you at every turn, the town is being…the town, and you’re still pulling in kids and selling ad space. I was wrong.”
I press my lips together as my pride overflows. “I don’t want to let you down.”
“You’re not.”
His words are so solid, like a promise. “Now, your parents… Shit, I don’t know. They are a piece of work, but with you moving out, I know it’ll help.”
“I don’t want to be near them.”
“Then don’t. That’s your choice, no one else’s.”
I meet his gaze again. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“You acted as if you were used to my mom treating you that way. I know she was always stuck-up, but did they tell you to stay away from me?”
His lips quirk up, but I see so much pain in his eyes. “Every day.”
I blink, my heart breaking in my chest. “Why? Why would they do that?”
“Because they never thought I was good enough for you.” A lump forms in my throat, and he looks away. I watch as his jaw goes tight, his expression so sad it makes my stomach hurt. Before I can contradict their statements or ask if he felt something for me then, he says, “I don’t want to talk about them. Do you want to skate for Kitty?”
I nod without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Then let’s skate for her.”
The confidence in his eyes makes me feel high. “We’re twenty years older, and I’ve gained weight.”
“So have I,” he says with a shrug. “It won’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s us.”
“Can you even do the skills still?”
“I’m sure I can. I’ve fooled around on my hockey skates, but like you said, muscle memory.” I press my lips together, not confident in this, in our ability to make this happen. Too much time has passed, and we only have three months until Kitty’s birthday. Unaware of my inner thoughts, Jett shrugs. “I’ve got my skates,” he says, hooking his thumb behind us. He doesn’t move, though. Instead, he asks, “Do you want me to get them on, or do you want me to keep holding you?”
My heart melts as I hold his gaze. I don’t want him to let me go, but I also want to see if this is even doable. “While I am enjoying being wrapped up in Jett Thomas Cook’s arms, I want you to get those skates.”
His lips curve up in the most devastating way. “I love how you say my name.” He leans in, his lips right against my nose as he whispers, “I bet it’d sound better if you moaned it.” My face instantly heats, and his grin grows even bigger. “Fucking adorable.”
I push him away. “Stop messing with me. Go.”
He walks backward for a bit before he says, “Who says I’m messing around?”
“Jett,” I complain, and he winks.
“A little louder and breathier.”
His eyes are wicked as I roll mine, but meanwhile, in my leggings, there is a party going on. I’m hotter than hot yoga, and my clit is throbbing with need. I blow out a breath, wondering if I can give in to my temptation. But the fear of the unknown paralyzes me. Ignoring my inner turmoil, I watch as he walks toward the bench, not slipping at all on the ice. When he sits to put on his skates, I start to skate again so that my legs don’t get cold. He stands and makes a face before looking over at me. A sheepish look covers his features as he heads for the doors leading to the ice. “I should have thrown these on monthly.”