Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“This won’t go well if you don’t tell me what we’re about to sing.”
“As soon as you hear the first few notes, I promise you’ll know. And if you don’t, or freeze up, I’ll do the heavy lifting and carry us. Sound good?”
I suck in an unsteady breath, holding it captive in my lungs before forcing it out again. “Okay.”
My gaze reluctantly scans the crowd, who have quieted and are watching us with interest. The realization that every eye in the house is staring at us is nerve racking. It’s tempting to toss the microphone to Sully and race off the stage and out the door into the cool night air.
As soon as the guitar riff opens with the pulsating beat, recognition slams into me.
It’s the one I played on repeat during chemo. The positive and upbeat melody never failed to make me feel invincible. As if I could fight my way through whatever obstacles stood in my path.
It was my own personal anthem that helped me battle leukemia.
As silly as it sounds, once I was officially in remission, I emailed Natasha Beddingfield and shared with her just how meaningful “Pocketful of Sunshine” was to me.
Maverick’s lips quirk as he croons the first verse.
I blink, surprised to find that, like his sister, his vocals are impressive.
When I continue to stare, he raises his brows.
I force out the second verse as we harmonize together. I’ve sung this song more than a thousand times and listened to it on repeat for hours. It’s not necessary to look at the screen. With my gaze locked on Maverick’s, I belt out the lyrics, giving every ounce of energy that I have to them.
Midway through, I realize that I’m smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. When I sing the chorus for a final time, Maverick repeats it. I throw my hands up and close my eyes as the last notes vibrate in the air. Thunderous applause breaks out as Maverick sweeps me off my feet and spins us in a tight circle. Pure joy bursts inside me like an overinflated balloon as my laughter rings throughout the space.
“You were amazing,” he says, smacking a kiss against my lips.
I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “So were you! You’re a man of many talents, Maverick McKinnon.”
He smirks. “You haven’t seen anything yet, sunshine. Trust me, there’s more where that came from.”
My body slides down his harder one before my toes touch the stage. That’s exactly the way it feels when we’re together.
Like my feet don’t quite touch the ground.
Being with him is like living in a technicolor dream. One I don’t ever want to wake from. I’m so afraid that once I reveal the truth, everything will change, and I’ll end up losing what I’ve only just found.
“You ready to get out of here?”
I jerk my head in a nod, knowing exactly what I need to do.
32
Maverick
I slip my arm around Willow as we exit the stage.
Without a doubt, this girl has become my sunshine. The more time we spend together, the more she eclipses everything else in my life.
It’s why the song fit so perfectly.
I want her to understand that I’m serious about this relationship.
I’m serious about her.
And I hope like hell that she feels the same, because I’m all in.
As we’re heading out the back door, the last person I expect to see tonight bursts through it.
River fucking Thompson.
Fury vibrates off him in heavy, suffocating waves as his narrowed gaze combs over the crowd before settling on Willow.
His eyes widen before slicing to me. “You motherfucker!”
A growl escapes from him right before he launches himself in my direction. Willow gasps as I shove her from the fray. If he touches one damn hair on her head, I’ll bury the guy alive.
Before I can get into position, he lands a punch to my cheek with enough force to snap my head to the side. Stars burst behind my eyes.
Chaos breaks out as people yell, clearing the area and forming a semi-circle around the two of us. From my periphery, I catch sight of Ryder, Hayes, Bridger, and Madden. Ryder steps forward, attempting to break up the fight as I land a quick jab to River’s nose. He swears a blue streak under his breath as blood seeps from one nostril.
“River, stop!” Willow yells.
The sound of her voice is just enough to distract me, and the asshole lands a solid hit to the side of my head.
Fuck!
Muted sound rings in my ears as my vision goes blurry. I give my head a little shake to help clear it. I’ve been in plenty of fights on the ice. Once Ryder and I were in high school, my father signed us up for boxing lessons so we’d know how to take a hit and return them. The training has been invaluable.