Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Birthday gifts. Offerings. Same thing,” Bryson teased.
I sighed.
“When is your birthday?” Merriam asked as she shoved her foot into Doc Martens.
I didn’t think it was possible to get cuter, but there she was accomplishing it.
“One week, three days, and four hours from now,” Bryson answered.
I looked at him with a roll of my eyes. “That’s right. But Christmas.”
“Your birthday is on Christmas?”
“Yes,” I answered, thinking it was adorably cute that she didn’t know. I hated to toot my own horn, but I was a big deal in our small town. It was a surprise that someone didn’t know every single thing there was to know about me. “You’re welcome to come to the game that we celebrate my birthday on.”
Her eyes widened.
“I can get you tickets,” I offered.
She opened her mouth and then closed it.
“She’ll take them,” Gisela answered for her. “But maybe you should leave them at will call so that we can make sure she gets them.”
Merriam turned pink.
“She’s socially awkward and not so hot on using the features of her phone,” Gisela explained quietly when Merriam busied herself putting on her shoes. “You’re gonna have to work on this one, hockey boy.”
I shrugged.
The thought of working for this one set my nerve endings on fire.
“I think that I won’t have any problem with that,” I admitted.
Merriam stood up, Eliska caught up her purse, and Gisela hurriedly yanked off her skates and shoved them into her own bag.
Merriam cautiously walked toward me, her eyes nervously glancing up at me the closer she got.
I felt my heart rate pick up at her nearness and said, “What’s your favorite wing flavor?”
“Honey barbeque. Not the regular one, either. The really sweet one,” she answered. “Yours?”
“The honey barbeque, but the mildly spicy one that’s not really all that hot.” I winked at her.
She giggled.
The others joined us, and together we headed out of the arena.
“Where are y’all parked?” I asked.
“The back lot with the players,” Eliska answered for them all. “Calliope pulled some strings with her dad.”
“Calliope can get a lot of things from her daddy if she only bats those eyes,” Lance called from somewhere behind us.
Where had he come from?
My question must’ve shown in my eyes because he jerked his chin toward the back wall. “Talking on the phone with my mom. She wanted an update on practice.”
Lance’s mom and Lance had a weird relationship.
She was great on the surface, but it almost felt like she was putting on a show.
Like how she would always make sure that the team got little care packages. But then, when Lance didn’t call her on time after a game, she would ring him over and over and over again until he answered. Then chew him out for ‘scaring’ her.
Needless to say, I felt like their relationship was slightly unhealthy.
But that was for Lance to figure out on his own, not for me to point out to him.
Chapter
Five
My temper is shorter than my daddy’s hair…he’s bald. Don’t play with me.
—Text from Bryson to Jeremiah
JEREMIAH
“Dude, where’s your car?”
I rolled my eyes at Bryson. “Please, do not start your eloquent movie quotes. I don’t think I have enough carbs in my system.”
Bryson flashed me a grin.
“I’ll drive,” Eliska said. “I’ll bring you back to your car later, Bryson.”
“No can do, sister.” Bryson headed to his own truck. “I have to be at home at a decent hour tonight. There’s no way in hell that I’m going to make it much more than an hour, and you can go all night.”
Eliska rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
Meanwhile I glanced at Merriam and said, “You drive?”
She shook her head.
“I did,” Gisela said. “But Eliska, you can ride with me, and I’ll bring you back. That way we’re not all trying to park in that atrocious parking lot.”
“Deal.” Eliska headed to her car, leaving Merriam to go in mine.
“You drive a Volkswagen?” She stopped when I got to my rental.
“Actually, no,” I said. “I drive an old 1969 Chevy truck, but I got tired of dying in the winter and the summer because it has no heat or air conditioner. So we’re modifying it to add that in.”
“That makes more sense,” she said. “A Volkswagen definitely doesn’t fit you.”
I flashed her a wink and got into the car.
I almost stopped and opened her door, but she already had hers open and her ass in my seat from the moment that I’d unlocked it.
I started it up and listened to it purr, a grin flashing on my face when she said, “Ohh. It sounds nice.”
“Funny enough, when I started it up the first time, I was a little bit surprised with the growliness of the engine. I don’t think I ever expected a Volkswagen to sound like this.” I chuckled. “I walked into the rental place and told them I needed one, and the guy behind the counter was all, ‘I have the perfect vehicle for you.’ Then gave me this tiny hatchback.”