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)
“You figured that out a long time ago,” I insist. “Better than most people.”
“Did I?” He shakes his head. “I spend all my time trying to be the best hockey player I can and to be the best son that I can. And yet I haven’t won a championship, and my mom needs a lot of therapy.”
I laugh in spite of myself.
We reach the freshly mowed lawn that runs down to a collection of wooden benches. They’re just shapes in the darkness. And the lake is a big, black void beyond, except for a gorgeously shiny bit where the moonlight sparkles in the distance.
Our footsteps are silent in the grass, and Eric speaks to me in a hushed tone. “You were the one who pointed this out, but I’m not in the habit of doing things for myself. But I think I’m going to start. By the way—office hours are a screaming success. People seem to have fewer problems now that they have to sort it out themselves for a day before they can unload it on me.”
I have to smile. “Who knew?”
“You did.” He squeezes my hand. “Problem is—now I have a lot more free time, and I could be spending it on myself, but I forgot how.”
Oh, Eric.
“This probably started the day my brother died. Treating myself didn’t seem fair to anyone, I guess. So thank you for pointing that out to me, too.”
“You’re… welcome?” I don’t feel any glee about this, though. It’s probably a mercy that Danny Tremaine will never know how much trauma his family endured after his death.
The moon disappears under a cloud, and it’s suddenly very dark. Like, horror movie dark. But I’m not even a little bit scared, because Eric Tremaine is holding my hand. I’ve never felt so safe with someone who also makes my heart pound.
“… It’s giving me all the big thoughts,” he says. “About what’s important. And what do I want in my life that’s just for me? You should know that you’re at the top of my list. Honestly, you’re the only thing on the list.”
My feet pause in the grass, and I’m too conflicted to respond. I don’t trust myself right now.
But Eric doesn’t seem to care. He takes both my hands in his, and I can feel my resistance crumbling.
This is bad.
“The time we had together in Massachusetts was really special,” he says. “I didn’t want it to end.”
I remember to breathe. “Of course you didn’t. Lots of sex and no consequences.”
“That’s only one interpretation. The narrowest, worst one. Because everything is different with you. More intense.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. “Intensity isn’t always a blessing. One minute you’re roasting marshmallows, and the next second the whole forest is ablaze. And then we’re back to—whose life is going to burn down first?”
He steps closer. “Yeah, I heard you on that. But if you change your mind, I’m here to try for more, maybe for the first time in my life. I’ve avoided entanglements for years. But all I want now is to be entangled with you.”
The moon slips back into the sky, illuminating a pair of serious gray eyes focused on me like a tractor beam. And I’m at war with myself. On the one hand, I trust Eric’s good intentions. I trust him with my body, and I trust him with my life.
But I don’t trust this. Life just doesn’t work this way—with the star hockey player who’s been dancing through your dreams suddenly realizing you exist, then getting tongue-tied and emotional about you beside a pristine lake.
The riot happening inside my heart isn’t stopping him, though. He leans down, eyes smoldering. And the kiss he gives me is a slow, serious thing. Soft lips and quiet heat.
With my self-control suddenly on the fritz, I tilt my chin up to meet him and…
Somebody sneezes. Very loudly. And very close by.
Eric and I jump apart. And I’m getting those horror movie vibes again as a body slowly rises from one of the shadowy benches. “Aw, O’Connell! You wrecked the Cap’s moment!” The voice belongs to a player—Jake Emerson.
Another body rises, zombielike, from another bench. “The grass was just cut, and I’m allergic!” he sputters. “Sorry, Cap!”
Ice water washes through my veins, and I make a noise of dismay. And Eric, still holding both my hands, looks like he might explode. “What the fuck are you doing out here, hiding in the dark? Are you spying on us?”
“Jesus, no.” Another shadow rises—this one from the grass. “The app said there was a fifty percent chance of seeing the northern lights. You gotta lie around in the dark for that. Could you, uh, check me for ticks? I mean… after the kiss maybe?”
I yank my hands from Eric’s and take a step back. And then another one. I’m supposed to be studying right now. I’m not supposed to be blowing up my life and my job on the off chance that Eric might want to date me for a few months. Until he suddenly remembers why dating is complicated, while noticing all the songwriters and underwear models still throwing themselves at his feet.