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)
Livia hadn’t been at the game tonight.
It wasn’t unusual for her not to attend. She had work, a life, responsibilities bigger than sitting in an arena watching me chase a puck. But still… a part of me hoped she’d want to see me after I’d been away for our travel games, that she’d take any excuse to be with me just like I would with her.
I felt her empty seat like a bruise.
When I texted her afterward, she answered immediately, and for all I could tell, nothing was off. She met my humor with her own and eased a bit of my worry with her use of a kiss emoji, but I still felt a chasm between us.
I asked if I could see her soon, and she’d hit me with: Of course, Rook. Just give me a few days to get some things in order. I have some business to take care of.
Business.
A few days.
My legs pumped harder, the flywheel whining under the pressure.
Was I supposed to read between the lines? Was she pulling away? Or was she actually just busy and I was being the neurotic asshole who couldn’t handle space?
A few days wasn’t that long, but it felt like a decade after already not seeing her for a week.
Could she honestly not find a spare moment to see me?
And then there was the third payment. It had hit her account this morning — just like we’d outlined in the paperwork we’d both signed. Except this time, it felt dirty.
Was I supposed to stop sending it now?
Would she have my balls in a chain if I dared?
I wanted her to have the money, to use it for whatever she needed, but God, I hated how it felt now. I didn’t want her to think anything between us was transactional, that this was just some sort of business deal to me. It may have started that way, but it hadn’t been like that for a while now.
Then again, this was what she’d agreed to. We hadn’t technically said it was all over, but it was certainly implied. Therefore, she’d fulfilled her side of the agreement, and I was to fulfill mine.
She didn’t seem upset about that third payment hitting. Then again, she hadn’t said anything about it at all. And while it was perfectly acceptable that a grown woman with a demanding career would ask for a few days before she sees me, I couldn’t help but wonder if a part of that delay in getting together was because of the payment and her sorting through her own feelings about it.
Jesus, Carter. You’re a fucking lunatic.
Just shut your brain off and give the girl a few days.
I pedaled faster, sweat dripping from my hair and down my temples, and for a moment, I cleared my mind. It was all I could do to focus on my breathing, on the pumping of my legs, the oxygen burning my lungs.
But sixty seconds was about all I got before my asshole brain was at it again.
Because what were we now, anyway?
Was Livia my… girlfriend? Did I get to call her that? Or was that something only she was allowed to decide?
Fuck, did she even want that?
She called me Rookie like she had since we signed the contract, her little term of degrading endearment for me. Again, it was nothing I should read into, but I couldn’t fucking help it — because I didn’t want to be Rookie to her now. I wanted to be Carter, her boyfriend.
Do you seriously think a woman like that would let you claim her publicly?
You’re a fucking joke. She’s embarrassed of you.
She’s trying to think of a way to get out of all of this.
I hated thinking it, but my brain wouldn’t stop. The words came in Coach Leduc’s voice, and I visually imagined socking him in the jaw to shut him up, but those thoughts still echoed.
Could I tell people about us?
Did she want me to?
Or were the worst thoughts in my head right? Would that embarrass her? Was I just another secret she had to compartmentalize, something she’d never claim out loud?
I swiped sweat from my brow with the towel hanging around my neck, shaking my head at the thought.
I knew it wasn’t true. At least, I wanted to believe that part of my heart that swore it wasn’t. I saw the look on her face when I told her I wanted more. I felt the way she trembled against me when she told me she felt the same.
Still, she deserved more than stolen moments in the shadows. She deserved something real. A date. No, a gesture.
Something deliberate.
Instead, what I had was a brain that wouldn’t shut the hell up.
What if she woke up one day and realized I wasn’t enough?
What if she wanted someone older, steadier, someone who had his shit together instead of a man who still needed her guidance to please her?