Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
A smile stretches across my lips as my mind goes back to Markie and Gus. Leave it to my son to attempt to “butter up” the hottest woman there so his dad could swoop in for a date. At least she was a great sport about it. And at least he has excellent taste.
I nibble my bottom lip, my weight shifting back and forth. Thinking of her sends a spiral of restless energy through my body. I talked to the woman for fifteen minutes, and somehow, she’s already taken up residence in my brain. Our conversation has been lingering in my head since I walked away from her.
I’ve been around beautiful women before. Beauty catches your attention, but there has to be more to someone than good looks to hold it, or it’s forgettable. It’s easily replaced by the next pretty face.
Markie, though, isn’t only beautiful. She has it, that mysterious quality that has you forgetting to check your phone when you’re together, willing to buy peach jam you’ll never eat, and wondering how you can “accidentally” run into her next.
I drop the water bottle into the recycling bin. “Yeah, we swung by there and checked it out. Gus is at the park now. It’s at the end of our street, so don’t panic. I could be there in three minutes.”
Deidre laughs. “If I didn’t trust you with our son, he would be here with me.”
The compliment makes me pause. It carries weight, coming from her. She’s an excellent mom.
“Anyway,” she says, “I’m calling to let you know that Gus’s pediatrician called in a prescription to your local pharmacy for an inhaler. He probably won’t need it, but I forgot to make sure he packed his and found it on his desk this morning.”
“The pharmacy is in the grocery store, and I’m heading there in a little bit because God forbid, we eat another pizza.”
“Perfect. And please, please, please don’t forget to work with him on his math. I know it’s not fun, but he got so far behind when he had pneumonia over the winter. If he doesn’t catch up this summer, I’m afraid he’ll just keep falling further behind.”
I wince. I’m good, even great, at a lot of things, but math isn’t one of them. I cheated my way through high school and barely passed the required classes in college. Numbers and letters should never mix. But sixth-grade math should be easy enough.
“Yeah, no problem,” I say a lot more confidently than I should. “I talked to Gus about it last night. I told him we’ll settle in here and then work on it a little every day.”
“Great. You’re the best. Now, I need to go because I can’t find my red lipstick, and I have a date tonight.”
Grinning, I gaze out the window toward the park. “Who’s the guy?”
“His name is John. One of my friends is dating his brother, and we’re all going out to listen to a live band. We met briefly at a party a couple of weeks ago. He’s super cute, and we had a great conversation, so I have high hopes.”
“I hope it goes well for you.”
“Me, too. You have no idea.”
I laugh at the frustration in her voice because it’s one I know all too well. I make it a point not to date much, if at all, during the season. And as soon as I packed up this year, I was on a plane to pick up Gus instead of heading to Cabo like I used to do.
“Well, have fun on your date,” I say. “I’ll make sure to grab the inhaler.”
“Thanks. Talk soon.”
“Bye, Deidre.”
I end the call and set the phone back on the counter, then turn to head to the shower when I catch my reflection in the window. My hair’s a little longer than I prefer and I’m not quite as cut in the midsection as usual, but I can still count my abs.
All in all? Not too bad.
I haven’t really worked out since the season ended, justifying it by saying that I need to give my body time to heal—which is true. But it’s been almost a month now of me sitting around and eating like shit. I can start to see the effects of my choices. And if I don’t get on top of it soon, I’ll have a hell of a time getting back in shape before next season.
“I could still kill it at pickleball, though,” I say, smirking.
“Since you’re a professional athlete, then you should know that the chemistry between two people in an athletic situation is special. You can’t force it. You either have it, or you don’t.”
I chuckle. “Oh, Markie. Something tells me that a lack of chemistry isn’t the problem.”
My phone rings again. I glance down and spot Miles’s name on the screen.