Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
I didn’t want to wake up Zac.
He’d tried to stay up with me, but the second time I found him with his head drooped to the side, eyes closed while he sat on the couch in my office, I’d told him to go lay down. And from the side lamp that was still on and the tablet lying facedown on his chest, I knew he’d still tried to wait up for me. Just when I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did, he did stuff like this, staying up when I knew he was exhausted.
Setting my glass down and plugging in my phone, I sat on the edge of the bed and peeked over at his sleeping, perfect face.
I’d won the damn lottery with this guy.
He looked so sweet and innocent with his eyes closed. As tan as ever, he was still lined with those long, lean muscles that stretched and flexed with every one of his movements when he was awake. His breathing was nice and soft. His lashes lay long against his cheekbones.
I was such a creeper, but I could stare at his face all day.
And with him sleeping… well, I could. At least without him noticing and then winking at me and tugging me over. Part of me kind of hoped he woke up now that I thought about it. But I knew he needed his sleep.
I’d never tell him to his face, but it was taking him a little longer and longer every year to recover after a game. He’d just gotten home that morning from a win in fucking Oklahoma. I’d gotten way too much pleasure at the White Oaks kicking the Thunderbirds ass the night before.
As I had every time they did over the last five years. It was a deep, personal satisfaction that I thought all of us who loved Zac felt when the other team lost. Even Boogie’s daughter had run around the living room giving out high fives when everyone watched the game at our house the night before. I could still hear Paw-Paw hooting up a storm.
Part of me couldn’t believe we were still in Houston. Or that Zac was still starting, not after everything that had happened to him during the first half of his career.
Then again, the other part of me—the majority of me—could believe it. Easily.
Zac had found his feet, his place, and he’d flourished. Even the TSN commentator, Michael B, who had done nothing but criticize him for the longest, sang his praises now.
And Zac had two enormous rings to prove he was worth all his accolades.
Then again, he’d always been worth every positive word ever said about him—at least I thought so. I was biased though.
“But neither one of ’em is my most important ring,” he’d told me with a wink a few months ago, when he’d locked them into the safe at our house near Austin.
“You starin’ at me again, kiddo?” Zac yawned, peeking an eye open before slowly smiling. His shoulders hunched up around his chin as he stretched a little. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just counting all the gray hairs in your beard,” I whispered, taking the tablet off his chest and setting it on the nightstand.
He chuckled as he wiggled deeper under the sheets before turning onto his side and lifting them up for me to sneak under. I caught a peek of his black boxer briefs and all the beautiful, endless lines of his body as I slid in, tugging my pillow closer to his. Zac smiled at me before yawning again and scooting over too until we were face-to-face in our bedroom. “How many did you count this time?”
“I lost count after fifty, old man,” I lied.
He laughed as he settled in. “You got your website fixed?” he asked, referring to what I’d been doing in my office when he’d passed out.
“Yeah, it just took a lot longer than I had expected,” I answered him, stroking a finger down the line of his nose.
That big, warm hand of his curled around my hip for maybe the one-hundred-thousandth time over the last few years. “Good. Did you finally get back to Trevor and tell him you’re gonna do the show?”
The show. Trevor.
That was another thing I couldn’t believe, the fact that Trevor was now somehow my manager too. My agent and manager in one. He’d come to me with the proposition about a month after Zac had won his first ring, weeks after we’d headed to Austin after our first Disney trip. “You’ve got the potential, and I’ve got the connections. What do you think?” he’d offered. And I’d taken the leap, trusting in him, and I could honestly say I hadn’t regretted it much… only when he nagged me. And even then, it wasn’t really regret I felt, more like temporary annoyance.