Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Don’t leave me.
But I can’t say that. He can’t stay even if he desperately wanted to. Just like Harley couldn’t come out for me even though he desperately wanted to.
All my adult life, I’ve had faith epic love was out there for me. I had no doubt I’d find what Noah and Matt have. Yet, the two times I’ve come close, something’s always gotten in the way.
With Harley, it was our record label. With Soren the first time around, it was ex-boyfriends and big dreams. Now, it’s the NHL and our stupidly busy schedules.
This is the end of us. I can feel it deep down.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I whisper.
He leans in. “What?”
I shouldn’t repeat it, but I can’t help myself. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t want to go. But—”
“You have to. I know.”
“We’ll talk about this later tonight, okay? You need to get back out there.”
I turn to go, but he grabs my arm.
“Please make the rest of the set count? I want to remember this show for being the best you’ve ever played.”
Every part of me wants to break down instead of going out there to put on a good show, but I’d do anything to give Soren everything he wants. I want to make him happy. So, I shake off the emo part wanting to already wallow in self-pity and sing my fucking heart out.
I still don’t think it’s enough.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Soren
The talk Jet and I should be having gets delayed when we realize this is the last night we’re going to have with each other for a while and the revelation that neither of us want me to get on that plane tomorrow.
When he told me the other day that I should chase the Cup and focus on the win, I admit it gutted me. Having his support means the world, but I kinda wished he’d asked me to retire next year.
Which is unfair to put on him, I know, because if he did that and then I retired and regretted it, I could easily blame him for it.
All I want to do tonight is lay him down and worship his body that fits perfectly with mine. I want to bring him unforgettable pleasure until he won’t have any choice but to pine for me while we’re apart.
We stumble into our hotel room, all mouths and tongues and hands.
He hasn’t showered since he finished his set—we’ve been leaving the venue right after every show and he’s been showering at the hotel—so I push us into the bathroom and start the water while refusing to let him go.
“There’s so many things I want to do to you tonight, but I don’t know where to start,” I say against his neck.
I breathe in his sweaty scent.
I’m used to smelling man sweat—you can’t be an athlete without knowing what a man’s body smells like—but there’s something about Jet that’s so uniquely him, and I know I’m going to miss it.
He smells like the last eight weeks, and it’ll be ingrained in my memory forever.
“Can you just hold me?” he asks.
“Aww, baby. I’ll do anything you want me to.” It feels physically impossible to hold Jet any closer.
We stand under the water with our arms around each other for I don’t know how long.
Jet’s strong and steady heartbeat pounds against my chest, and in a weird way it soothes me. I could stand here forever and happily never leave.
But eventually, the water between us runs cold.
I turn off the shower but keep one arm wrapped around Jet.
He hasn’t lifted his head, which is buried in my shoulder.
“Come on, let’s go to bed.”
Jet holds on tighter.
I pull back and lift his chin with my finger. “Jet?”
“Why do I have ‘Like I’m Gonna Lose You’ by John Legend playing in my head?”
“I don’t know that song.”
Jet grimaces. “Do you live under a rock?”
“Pretty much. I only know Radioactive songs. You might have heard of them. Their lead singer is kinda hot. Heard he’s a loudmouth pain in the ass though.”
Jet laughs, and apparently, that’s all it takes for him to let go of needing to go slow and to start devouring my mouth.
He presses against me and kisses me harder.
My skin flushes, and it’s hard to breathe but not because of what he’s doing. It’s because of what he’s not doing. The weight of me leaving hangs between us, and the switch in him from wanting to be held to wanting to be distracted is obvious.
And I don’t think I have the heart or the balls to put a stop to it.
I can slow it down, though. I need to try to slow him down.
My hands find the back of his head, and I pull it back, breaking our kiss and exposing his sexy as fuck neck. I didn’t know necks could be sexy, but Jet’s is.