Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I swallowed hard as the rest of them nodded, murmuring their agreement.
It was then that I realized Maven had been a little too quiet in the midst of all of this, and now that the heavier moment had passed, she was still bouncing on her toes like she had to hold the secret I’d just spilled to everyone.
“Easy, bestie,” I told her, looping her arm through mine. “You can relax and yap about all the things you’ve been forced to keep inside for a month.”
“Well, actually, I’m having a hard time relaxing at all the past few days.”
I frowned. “Oh no. What’s going on?”
But she didn’t look sad. She looked like she’d just won the lottery. For a second, I thought maybe she had.
When she held up a little white stick in her hands, I didn’t even have to look closely to understand why she was so giddy.
“SHUT UP!” I screamed, and damn my fucking hormones because tears instantly sprung to my eyes. “YOU SHUT UP RIGHT NOW, MAVEN TANEV!”
Maven just started crying with me, her smile so big it took up her whole face. “I just found out! I wanted to surprise you!”
I shook my head in disbelief before wrapping her in the tightest hug of my life. We cried and squealed and clutched each other close while the other girls slowly caught on and had their own freak outs.
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered in her ear, squeezing her tighter. “We get to do this together.”
“Thank fucking God because I have no idea what I’m doing,” Maven said with a laugh that sparked one of my own.
“Neither do I. We can be the hot mess express moms.”
“No better way to be.”
“I’m laughing even harder now at your comment about a relaxing summer,” I said, giggling. “Bitch, we are going to be everything but relaxed.”
“Pregnant as fuck.”
“In Florida. God help us.”
We laughed and cried and held each other for as long as we could, right up until the lights began to flash and the crowd noise rose from a murmur to a roar.
The game started, and despite the mountains of questions all the girls had now, we all scrambled down to our seats to watch the puck drop, and instantly, the adrenaline of the game swept us away.
When I saw Carter skate out in the first line, I screamed so loud even Ava called me a fangirl.
But in the middle of it all, I let myself think about the past month. I thought of Carter and how he’d been by my side through the nausea and exhaustion, how he’d kissed my forehead when I apologized for being too tired, how he’d held me on the couch while I dozed off against his chest. I thought about how much I missed the electricity of us in the bedroom, even knowing it would return soon enough — and how much I’d unexpectedly grown to love the quiet, tender side of him just as much. Maybe even more.
And that night, we all watched the man my child would call Dada soon skate out with fire in his eyes. We sat in awe as he crushed it shift after shift, as the Ospreys clinched the playoffs.
Just like Carter had clinched my heart.
Choosing You
Livia
Two weeks before my sister’s wedding, she showed up at my door.
Or rather, at Carter’s door.
I was curled sideways on his couch, one hand on my belly like I might feel the flutter I knew wouldn’t come for weeks, the other cradling a mug of peppermint tea Carter had brewed me.
He hovered nearby, as he did — big body, soft eyes, and that burly beard he had thanks to the Ospreys being firmly in the playoff race. He informed me he wasn’t shaving until they lost, which had me questioning who I was rooting for each time he hit the ice.
“Anything else I can get you?” he asked, grabbing Zamboni’s leash from where it hung by the door. The pup scurried out from where I’d been using him as a footrest on the couch with a little bark of excitement.
I lifted my mug. “You’ve already done enough.”
A knock rattled the door.
Carter glanced at me, that mischief-light in his eyes that usually preceded him saying something designed to make me roll mine.
“Who is that?”
His grin twitched wider, but there was a nervous edge to it, too. “Either a really great surprise, or one that is going to land me in the dog house.”
Zamboni huffed impatiently, waiting for Carter to let him out now that his harness was in place. But Carter only used it to wrangle him before opening the front door.
When he did, time collapsed.
My sister stood on the threshold in a sundress the color of lemon bars, her hair twisted back the way she wore it in high school when we used to share a bathroom and a secret stash of lip gloss, her eyes shining with both hope and uncertainty. Her hands were full, tote bag straps digging into her shoulder, and another paper grocery sack hugged to her chest.