Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
I’ve gotten good at staying in the shadows when I reach her driveway, and until the weather warmed, we always kept the walkway clear so I didn’t leave footprints in the snow on the off chance her ex—who is less present lately but still holding Clover hostage with paperwork—should do a drive-by. The threat of an order of protection seems to have been enough for him to back off, but not enough to persuade him to sign the fucking paperwork and set her free.
We’ve made the trip to her cabin in Pearl Bay a couple of times. Other times, we’ll stay the night at a hotel in Richmond or Elgin and sometimes even Rockford, so we can get dressed up and go for nice dinners. When I’m wearing a suit and tie, polished dress shoes and clean-shaven, and Clover wears her hair down and leaves her glasses at home, the age difference doesn’t seem quite so glaring.
On nights like those, everything feels much more real. And it’s hard to return to Chicago and go back to hiding.
A couple weeks before the end of the semester, the hockey team is heading into playoffs. We’re currently in second place. The next game is home advantage, but it’s against the team in first place, and we’ve struggled to beat them this season. It doesn’t help that this is also Russo’s team, the guy who constantly needles me when we’re on the ice.
I have an early skate tomorrow morning, but it doesn’t stop me from going over to Clover’s once the sun has gone down. The days have started to get longer again, which means it’s been impossible to avoid dinners at home. It’s not a bad thing, though, because my presence in the house keeps my family from asking too many questions. It isn’t until everyone else disappears for the evening that I do too, and I’m always home first thing in the morning, before anyone else is up.
Besides, Lavender is busy with the play she’s making costumes for, and Kody is busy studying and spending time with my sister. BJ is finally putting some time in with his courses, so even he’s been scarce lately, and River spends most of his nights at Josiah’s.
Tonight, I escape the house without running into anyone in the kitchen. I walk the three blocks to Clover’s and slip inside the back door. I take off my shoes and carry them to the mat at the front door, so I don’t leave dirty shoe prints on the floor.
Clover’s already in the kitchen, making her famous pasta Bolognese. The blinds are always closed in there now, giving us the privacy we need.
“Hey, can you grab me the parmesan? It’s on the second shelf, right-hand side,” Clover asks, her back to me, an apron tied around her waist, hair pulled up in a ponytail.
“Yeah, for sure. Do you need anything else?” I find it exactly where she said it would be and come to where she’s standing in front of the stove, setting it on the counter next to her.
“That’s it for now. Thanks.”
I wrap an arm around her waist, kissing up the side of her neck. “How was your day?”
“It was okay.”
“Just okay?” The tightness in her voice sets me on edge. “Did something happen?”
“Just Gabriel making things difficult.”
“Did he stop by here or something?”
“No. I think he enjoys making this divorce cost more than it needs to.” She sets the wooden spoon on the counter and turns around, sliding her hands up my chest and hooking them behind my neck. “But I don’t want to talk about that. It puts me in a mood.” She tugs, and I drop my head so she can reach my lips. After a few minutes, she pulls back. “How hungry are you? Can you wait on dinner for a bit?”
“Sure, why?”
“I want you to take me to bed, make me feel good.”
“I can do that.” I reach behind her and turn the burner off, then grab her ass and hoist her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I carry her down the hall to the bedroom.
We spend the rest of the night not talking about Gabriel and whatever happened. We eat a late dinner, and I study for my exams—my grades are a lot better this semester, thanks to all the time I spend with Clover—while she grades papers.
We might spend a lot of our time together naked, but we spend just as much time talking. We make meals, hang out, watch TV, read, play Scrabble, and I teach Clover how to make origami cranes. I’ve made so many this year that I’ve filled an entire tote bin. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I’m in a real relationship. And the closer we get to the end of the semester, the more I struggle with what’s likely the inevitable end. I don’t know how I’d deal with being halfway across the country and in a relationship. And she’s still fighting her way out of a bad marriage. I don’t want to put that kind of pressure on her.