Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I take the spot next to Dex on the couch and squeeze his leg in reassurance. We had a light day today, weight training this morning but no practice skate until tomorrow, so he’s had all the time in the world to obsess over this trade.
“Hey, whichever one of us it is, LA could be a fun place to live. They have the beach, Hollywood … Ooh, actually, I hope it’s me. I could use my free celebrity pass if I were to ever run into Zachary Quinto.”
Dex frowns. “Zachary Quinto? I thought you were obsessed with Ryan Reynolds.”
“Yeah, but Zachary Quinto is gay. I have to go with the odds.”
“That’s cheating.”
“No, it’s not. He’s my free pass.”
“I mean picking someone you only kind of like as your pass just because he happens to be queer and therefore you have a bigger chance of getting some. And also, stop talking like it’s going to be you. I told them to trade me.” He lowers his voice and murmurs, “It has to be me.”
I grip his hand and hold tight. “Like I said, whoever it is, LA won’t be too bad. It’s a forty-minute flight. Four hours in the car. Ooh, maybe Anaheim could want one of us too. We could both move to the beach and have sex with Zachary Quinto.”
Dex screws up his face. “You can have sex with him. I’ll have sex with Jennifer Lawrence.”
I shake my head. “Dude, go with the odds. Pick someone single.”
“It’s Hollywood. She’ll be single again eventually.”
“My husband.” I touch my heart. “Believer in forever and true love.”
Dex gets me in a headlock. “I believe it when it’s you and me.”
I push him off me. “Which is why, no matter what happens, you and I will get through anything. We can make LA work. And if it doesn’t, how long have you got left on your contract? I’ve only got one more signed year, though Damon started negotiations after we made it to the Stanley Cup final last season. Maybe I retire or—”
“If it comes down to that, I won’t re-sign. My contract’s up for renewal this season.”
I lean back against the couch. “Wow. Retirement. That’s scary. What would you do instead?”
“Well, if we’re in LA, I’m obviously going to stalk Jennifer Lawrence.”
“Obviously.”
“I’ll go to the beach every day while you’re skating and paying my way. Being my sugar daddy.”
“Shit. Can we take it back? I’ll retire first.”
“Nope. Too late.” Dex grins, but it quickly falls. “You know what would be better than all of that?”
“Not being traded at all,” I say.
“Exactly. I love it here. There might not be a beach, but there’s, you know … gambling and debauchery.”
“Always fun things to have.”
“I like the home crowd here.”
“Me too.” They’ve mostly supported us through this whole thing.
“I don’t like change.”
“I know.”
And as if hearing our conversation, the people on the TV announce a trade for Vegas. My attention snaps to the screen so fast my neck protests.
“Oh, fuck.” I thought that maybe, possibly, it wasn’t going to happen—that the threats would eventuate to nothing. I guess I was wrong.
“They haven’t called,” Dex says, lifting his phone to his face again.
“Vegas will be losing a center forward to Winnipeg.”
Center forward. Dex.
Winnipeg. What?
LA to Vegas long-distance is doable. Vegas to Nowhere Canada?
Zen and peace. Zen and fucking peace.
Then a photo of the last person I was expecting pops up on the screen next to the news anchor, and I’ve never known such relief.
“It’s not you,” I say.
“What?” Dex lifts his head.
“They didn’t trade you. They traded Fensby.” I would celebrate and cheer, but I’m still trying to process it.
Dex doesn’t have that problem. He jumps out of his seat. “Yes! Holy shit, this is amazing.”
“I don’t think it means we’re in the clear,” I point out. “Though our fans have been loyal and more supportive than ever, so maybe we are?”
Apparently, the public thinks the way we got married as best friends and then found more is adorable.
Dex dances around the coffee table while I laugh.
He pumps his fists in the air, singing, “We don’t have to move to LA. I don’t have to hunt down Zachary Quinto and commit first-degree murder.”
“Hey! Now that would be cheating. You can’t kill my free pass to prevent me from sleeping with him.”
“What can I say? I don’t want anyone to touch my husband but me.”
Is it possible to melt into a pile of goo? Because I think that’s what I’m doing. “No one touches me, huh?”
He approaches and pulls me up off the couch. “No one.”
“Mm,” I hum. “I like possessive Dex.”
“You like belonging to me?”
“I mean, in a non-codependent, healthy kind of way, yes. I like the way you worship my body like I’m a prized possession and not a toy to play with. I like that you respect me and love me, and you’ve always been yourself around me. I love who we are together. I love our bond. Most of all, I love you.”