Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
There I go again, underestimating what Ollie has to go through. I saw a little of it with Matt, but I only met him and Noah at the brighter end of the tunnel. Ollie’s still in complete darkness, hoping to make it out the other side.
With a sigh, I pull my laptop out and dump my bag on the floor. “You mind if I watch too then? I need to finish up my article anyway.”
“Go for it. I think I’ve seen the same play about six times now and still can’t make sense of it.”
As I climb on the bed, I pull my laptop in my lap and leave his tablet propped up in the middle. “The one where Joseph and Novak passed the puck so many times it ended up in Crosby’s possession without anyone noticing? That was insane.”
“I think it’s official. Tommy has replaced me.” Ollie slumps down next to me.
“It was a fluke,” I lie. The truth is, Boston’s form was on point, but Ollie doesn’t need me psyching him out even more.
He pulls his tablet into his lap, and I have to inch a little closer to see the screen better. I try to focus on the game and not the giant hunk of man meat beside me.
“We played like shit tonight, and I’m trying to figure out where the hell it all went wrong.”
I open up the document with all my notes from the game. “You know, I don’t think it was your team’s fault. There wasn’t really anything wrong with how you played. Boston just played better.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, but he’s studying the screen as if it holds all the answers.
“Here.” I pass him my notes. “If you can make sense out of what I wrote down in my shorthand typing, you’ll see I’m right. Your problems weren’t technical. It was that their goalie was on fire, and they got a few lucky calls. It happens.”
“So, you’re saying they’re just better than us? That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
I laugh. “No. They had a better night. That’s all.”
I can’t be sure, but I swear I see the moment he believes me. He turns back to the game but doesn’t appear as invested as he was twenty seconds ago.
When the game comes to a close, Ollie’s shoulders sink. “I was kinda hoping it would end differently being played back.”
I finish typing out my article and send it off without self-proofing. My editor will be pissed, but I should’ve already gotten it to him half an hour ago.
When I close my laptop and put it back in my bag, I go to stand, but Ollie’s voice stops me.
“You want to watch a movie or something?”
“A movie?” The bedside clock reads well past midnight, and I should go back to my hotel and get some sleep. Do I move to do that though? Of course not, because I always do questionable things around Ollie, starting with offering to be his fake boyfriend for a family dinner. “What about your roommate?”
“I’m allowed to have gay friends, Lennon.” His eyes seem uncertain, as if he doesn’t quite believe himself. “Or, I dunno, tell him you’re writing another article.”
This is walking a fine line, and I get the feeling if I stay shit’s gonna get messy, and we’ve just started getting along.
“I could stay for a movie.” Apparently, my mouth decides to send a big fuck you to the warnings running through my head. “What’ve you got?”
He taps away on his screen and pulls up a selection.
“Should’ve pegged you for an action, no brains needed, type of guy,” I say.
“Fine then.” He taps some more and pulls up a different folder filled with titles like Donnie Darko, Sin City, and Get Out.
“Ugh. Way too far the other way,” I complain.
“Are you the Goldilocks of movies? Here, look for whatever you want.” He passes me his tablet.
I scroll through the genres in his movie file, clicking on a few things but going back to the main folder seconds later. Ollie makes impatient noises, which makes me even pickier. He’s kind of hot when he’s snarky.
When I scroll down farther, a folder catches my eye. It’s labeled in capital letters: PORN. “Good to know you don’t even try to hide your stash.”
I jokingly go to click on it, but he must think I’m actually gonna do it. A large hand wraps around my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and I laugh.
“Calm down. As interested as I am to open it, it’s kind of like Pandora’s box. There could be clown porn in there or something, and then you’re not the one who’d be scarred for life.”
“Clown porn?” he asks while practically choking.
“There’s some really weird shit out there.”
He lets go of my hand. “What I want to know is what you’ve been looking up if you landed on clown porn.”