Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
He squeezes my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. “Okay. I’m sorry you’re hurting, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do to make this better?”
“Just be my dad.”
“Always.” He sighs. “I could kick his ass, if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“I figured you’d say that but, I thought I’d offer anyway,” he says softly. “Is there anything else you’ve been hiding from me that I should know about?”
“My favorite color is yellow, not pink.”
He pulls back and frowns. “Since when?”
“Since always.”
His eyes dart to my bag, and the hair tie around my wrist. His mouth opens and closes. He sighs. “Can we make a new rule?”
“Depends on the rule.”
“No more trying to be perfect. I love you exactly as you are.”
“Even if pink isn’t my favorite color.”
“Even then.” He kisses the top of my head. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
CHAPTER 41
HOLLIS
We’re playing in New York tonight, and I’m still on the bench, though just for one more game. As awesome as it was to get that news this morning, the fact that I can’t celebrate it with Roman or Aurora makes it less of a win. It also stings that I would probably have been playing tonight if I hadn’t gone down on my knee at the gala. Thankfully, Roman’s hand is fine. I watch my teammates fly down the ice. Like always when we play New York, Madden and Grace are riding each other hard, at least they’re staying out of the penalty box, though. The game is tied, but we still have twelve minutes to score another goal. There are only a handful of games left in the regular season. We’re heading for the playoffs no matter what, but every point counts. Grace slams Madden into the boards, and New York gains control of the puck.
“I wish I understood why they hate each other so much,” Palaniappa mutters.
“They went to hockey camp together when they were teenagers. Something happened there from what I understand,” Bright says.
“Must have been something pretty damn bad,” Palaniappa replies.
I don’t comment. I’m half here, half still in Toronto, wondering how Aurora is doing. Rix came up and got the fob from me before I left and said she would take care of the boys. She told me Aurora was doing as well as could be expected. I wish things were different. That I’d handled this better. That I hadn’t imploded my relationship with Aurora and my best friend. I feel fucking lost. I was afraid she could change her mind years down the road, but now I’m scared I’ve lost her forever.
Bright and Palaniappa are called back onto the ice, and Madden and Stiles rotate off. Stiles takes the spot beside me. “You need to keep your head on the next shift, man,” he says to Madden. “I can’t hold your hand during playoffs.”
“He knows how to push my buttons,” Madden grumbles.
“And you let him,” Stiles replies.
“He shit talks,” Madden counters.
Stiles claps him on the shoulder. “You’re better than he is, on the ice and off. Stop letting him get under your skin.”
“I’m trying.” Madden’s leg is going a mile a minute, though, so it’s hard to say how effective he’ll be.
Palaniappa passes the puck to Bright. He rushes down the ice, toward the net, New York on his heels. Palaniappa gets into position, and Bright sends the puck his way. Spencer blocks another New York player from stealing the puck, and then it’s back to Bright, who shoots on net. It bounces off the post, but Palaniappa is ready for the rebound. He slips the puck by their goalie’s skate as he shifts to the other side of the net, giving us the goal we need to take the lead.
The arena goes wild—the New York fans freaking out, the smattering of Toronto fans shouting their approval. We keep the lead through the rest of the period and win by one.
Roman is still ignoring me. I figured sharing a room on this trip would force conversation, but so far, my attempts are met with one-word answers and a lot of cold shoulder. After the game, I follow Roman to the hotel room, hoping we can finally clear the air. I’m unable to handle all this fucking nothingness.
“How long is the silent treatment going to last?” I ask.
He drops his coat on the bed. “As long as it takes for me to get over you having a relationship with my daughter behind my goddamn back. Maybe it’ll take a month, maybe a year, or maybe I’ll never get over it. You knew better. You put Peg—Aurora in a shitty position. It was up to you to do it the right way. My daughter is a fucking mess, and that’s on you. Her heart is in pieces because you’re a selfish, fucking coward.”