Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Rowan smirks. “And exactly what a man who’s completely smitten with his foster kitten needs.”
I don’t argue. Because he’s right. He shuts the door to the trunk, then we walk down Main Street, which is decked out for Christmas already with garlands strung around the lampposts. Rowan side-eyes them, grumbling about too many decorations.
“Do you hate Christmas?” I ask.
“And Christmas hates me,” he says as we pass a bookstore where a big, orange cat sleeps soundly on top of a stack of Christmas books in the window display.
“Then I won’t invite you over when we decorate our tree,” I say.
“Oh, you can invite Mia. She’s great with decorations since she’s got a good eye. I’ll keep myself busy walking the dog.”
“That’s the spirit,” I say as we turn the corner to The Gameyard to meet our friends. Holiday music plays overhead and Rowan grouses about that too for a bit. After we order some beer—with a club soda for the Grinch—and start a round of cornhole, my mind swings back to San Francisco. Not just to the cat.
I’m picturing Sabrina.
Is she home now? Coming in from her lessons? Unlocking the door to her apartment? Saying hello to a cute little critter who stretches up from the couch and greets her? Is she picking up Drama and holding her? Giving her a kiss? A pang of missing lodges in my heart.
“Earth to Falcon.”
I spin around. Holden is staring at me as I toss a beanbag absently in my free hand.
“We’ll have to kick you out of the club if you keep drifting off like that,” the football star says, admonishing me.
Corbin grins as he lifts his beer glass. “Maybe it’s time for another bet. When you finally break, since you’re still clearly all tangled up in wanting the nanny.”
“She has a name,” I say sharply. “It’s Sabrina.”
Corbin holds up a hand in surrender, even though he didn’t really say anything wrong. “You’re into Sabrina. Really into her.”
Shit. I did overreact. “Sorry. My bad,” I say, not answering him. Instead, I toss the beanbag toward the top of the board, but I miss the hole.
“What are you going to do about it?” Holden asks, and the fact that he’s not harassing me about missing speaks volumes.
Plus, it’s a reasonable question. “Honestly? I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
There’s quiet for several seconds, just the chorus of a rock song coming from inside the bar. A heaviness descends on me—the weight of decisions, of conflict.
“What do you want to do about it?” Corbin asks thoughtfully. It’s a rare moment when these guys are serious, which means it’s all the more important to pay attention.
I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “I mean, the whole situation is complicated. It’s early days, and I really shouldn’t be thinking about this. I’ve got the season to focus on. The kids. Everything.”
Rowan nods thoughtfully. “Yeah. Stuff can get complicated real fast.”
Holden shakes his head. “Relationships are nothing but a hot mess.”
“That can bite you in the ass,” Corbin adds.
We all lift our glasses and drink.
I put relationship thoughts out of my head and focus on beating my friends in lawn games. Since that equals happiness.
And, evidently, so do a few more beers.
When the night is over and we’re driving back home with Rowan at the wheel, I’m honestly, maybe a little buzzed. A little eager too.
To see Sabrina.
And Drama, of course. But mostly, I want to see her. “I wonder if I should text her and tell her what I picked up at the store or just surprise her,” I muse as we cross the Golden Gate Bridge, my foot tapping on the floor of his car.
Rowan cracks up laughing. “Dude. You’re a little obsessed.”
No point denying it. “I’ll surprise her,” I say, nodding to myself as the city lights grow brighter, beckoning me home. “She’ll like that.”
Rowan smirks as he slows at a light. “Do you need help carrying it all in? Or are you afraid that when she sees I’m stronger than you, she’ll think she picked the wrong guy?”
I flip him off. “I’ll carry everything.”
I’m already thinking about walking through that door, about the way Sabrina’s face will light up when she sees what I brought home for Drama.
And maybe—just maybe—about the fact that no one else is in the house tonight.
30
HURTS SO GOOD
Sabrina
“Are you tipsy?” I ask the man who can’t stop touching me.
“Are you saying I’m not usually affectionate?” Tyler counters, nuzzling my neck as we stretch out on the couch.
“You’re just kind of…extra happy.”
He brushes his lips along my shoulder now. “You said time with friends led to happiness,” he says, tossing my words right back at me.
I shove him lightly. “And you said pussy…cats.”
His gaze drifts to the little gymnast in the room, who’s climbing the Everest of the cat tower now. “And I was right.” He drops a kiss to the shell of my ear. “But do you want me to stop?”