Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
My stomach tries a wobbly little flip. “It wasn’t terrible.”
He grins. “A three-star review? I guess I’ll take it.”
I can’t believe I’m about to sign on to this. “But Eric—just don’t treat me like I’m fragile.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His shoulders relax slightly. “You’re one of the toughest people I know.”
“And no more lying to make me feel better.”
His expression flickers with something I can’t read. “Deal. But you can still call it quits if you feel the need. My, uh, mother is very excited about meeting you.”
“She is? Why?”
He sighs. “Because she and Maribel had a chat after the party, and Maribel told her about you, and…” He swallows. “Well, I wasn’t on the call, but all of a sudden, my mother feels like she has something exciting to focus on instead of my dead brother’s upcoming birthday.”
“Oh, geez.” My heart clenches for this poor woman.
“Yeah.” He frowns. “Not that any of this is your problem to solve. Your fake boyfriend isn’t much of a catch, I’m afraid.”
That fizzy feeling in my stomach begs to differ.
What is wrong with me?
While I’m pondering this, a single female moan punctuates the night air, followed by a low male groan. A beat later, I hear an “Oh Goddd. Oh yes!”
The weird thing, though, is that I think those sounds came from two different upstairs windows. My neck cranes on instinct toward the surround sound of sex.
What’s worse is that I catch Eric doing the same thing. And the look of confusion on his face probably mirrors mine. A beat later, it happens again—mismatched moans from different screened windows.
That’s when things get super awkward down here on the ground. “Uh-oh,” Eric says with an uncomfortable laugh. “Which room did they give you? I hope the walls are sturdy.”
“I don’t have a room. This is just a day trip—I just wanted an afternoon at the beach before I go back to work tomorrow.”
“Work?” he yelps. “It’s summer.”
And this is the difference between me and the big, important hockey player. “We don’t all have your schedule, E-Train. During the summer, I work three days a week for his lordship. While also taking two college classes.”
“Oh, hell,” he says, looking genuinely shocked.
Another moan pierces the summer night.
“Um, in fact…” I check the time. “I’m getting on the LIRR at ten thirty. I need to get a rideshare.”
“How about I drive you to the train? I don’t need to stand around here listening to…” He gestures wildly toward the house. “And even if we get there early, there’s that place for…”
“… Ice cream!” we say in unison. And somehow, we’re smiling at each other in the dark.
“Get your stuff?” he says.
I hesitate for approximately one and a half seconds. But I have no chill when it comes to Eric, so I dart into the house to find my bag.
Then, in a twist of events I’d not predicted for tonight, I’m back in Eric’s Porsche and heading for town. And twenty minutes after that, we’re licking ice cream cones at the train station. I’m way too aware of his tongue on that mint chocolate chip, while moths flutter cluelessly around the streetlights. Pathetic little crush, indeed. It’s still going strong.
“Any thoughts on a wedding gift?” Eric asks, catching a drip of his ice cream.
“Again? Do I have to do all the work in this relationship?” I bite into the cone.
He chuckles. “Sorry.”
“I have some ideas. I’ll try Theo again. He wouldn’t blow me off again, right?”
“If that doesn’t work, I’ll ask my mom for advice. I think I hear your train. Are you sure you’re okay going through Penn Station at midnight?”
“Yes, Captain.”
He frowns down at me. “But you’re taking a cab home, right?”
“Sure, buddy. If it makes you feel better.” It’s only a ten-block walk, though, right down Eighth Avenue.
“It would make me feel better. It can be a weird area sometimes.” He glances down the tracks, where there’s a faint glow.
I take a last bite of my ice cream and toss the end of the cone into the bin. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Any time, boo.”
I snort and grab my bag as the train approaches. “See you in a couple of weeks for the wedding?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you so we can make plans.”
“Cool.” The train stops, and the doors slide open.
“Feel free to pack that green bikini,” he says.
I almost trip at the train’s entrance.
“Ooh, careful there,” he says.
Turning around, I give him a helpless little wave before the doors slide closed.
A week later, I’m huddled in my tiny kitchen with a cup of peppermint tea, staring at the stack of medical papers that Dr. Talbot’s office sent home with me. The EKG was normal. Everything is normal. My heart is just fine, doing its job without drama or flair.
Which is a relief.
But now I can’t stop thinking about my brother, who had to get his test done, too. And who never mentioned coming to New York for one of our games. Without even sending me a text.