Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” I say after a while. “I think the easy thing is to keep my head down. The easy thing is to not go looking for… anyone. But this shoulder shit happened and now I’ve been stuck here, hardly able to do more than jog and lift weights. And I can try to avoid women as much as I want, but what happens when they fall into my lap?”
“Literally, in this case,” he says.
“Huh?”
“I mean I found you two like ten seconds after you met and her face was between your legs. Props, man. That’s impressive speed, but it’s also not a race, you know.”
“Shut up,” I laugh, shoving him.
Carter grins slowly, and I hate that I just said all that crap out loud to him. I’ve done such a good job of bottling it all up before now. Suddenly, Andi shows up and everything seems to want to leak out the moment I let my guard down. “It’s alright,” he says, dropping the humor from his tone. “Feeling the way you feel. It’s normal.”
I let a little tension out of my shoulders. I know the guys must be more worried about me than they’ve let on if even Carter isn’t giving me shit. “It’s frustrating,” I say, aware that I’m being vague.
Carter nods. “You know how I see it? The most important thing is to move forward. The past can hurt. The shit we leave behind looks pretty damn big in the rearview at first. But every day you move forward, the smaller it gets. Then one day you look back and the big pile of shit is nothing but a little turd on the horizon. And then it’s nothing. Just–” he raises his hand and spreads his fingertips out suddenly, making a poof sound. “Just gone.”
I grin. “So just keep moving forward until your past becomes a smaller and smaller turd in your rearview? That’s exactly the kind of life advice I would expect from you.”
He pats my back. “I’m glad I could live up to the hype.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
I feel a little lighter, though. Somewhat stupid or not, Carter has a point. Then again, he doesn’t know the insanity I just agreed to with Andi. Hell, I’m not entirely sure what we agreed to. In the moment, I’ll admit I was pretty much talking about sex. I thought we’d end that night after the scary movie in my bed. I wanted something uncomplicated. No strings. No feelings. I just needed an outlet for all the pent up attraction I feel.
Apparently, I wasn’t clear enough. Andi seems to be treating “casual” like a code word for dating but more slowly. It makes no damn sense, and I have no clue how to un-fuck the situation I’ve found myself in. Worse, I’m not entirely sure I want to get out of this.
Everybody cheers when Meemee scores a goal. She smiles big, then her eyes light up as she looks around. “Treat time?”
Andi deflates a little, then shrugs. “Okay. Okay. You get a treat.”
“And I get your number,” Cade says, leaning on his stick and doing what he probably thinks is a bad boy smile at Andi.
“And you do not,” Andi says. “Maybe I’m already spoken for.”
Jake goes completely stiff at that and Cade waves off her rejection in a carefree way that says he’ll try again later.
“What do you mean?” Jake says.
Andi looks up at him like she just remembered he’s there. “I just mean I ran away from my wedding. I haven’t actually talked to Landon, so that means I’m kind of technically still in a relationship, right?”
Jake’s gaze slides to me. The natural thing to do would be to look back at him and act normal. Instead, I raise my palms like he just pointed a gun at me.
Dammit. Way to look guilty, dumbass.
Jake’s eyes narrow and he looks at Andi again. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“I mean what I said,” Andi snaps.
Carter chuckles and does an impersonation of a cowboy striding into a raging gunfight, fingers holstered in his jean pockets. “Now, now, gentlemen. Let’s not turn a kids’ hockey game into a soap opera. We’re all friends here. Some of us are… friendlier than others. Some of us may have very ungentlemanly ideas about others who happen to be present here. But this isn’t 1984. You can’t police our thoughts, Jake.”
“Wow,” Maddox says, staring at Carter and then at me. “I didn’t know he read books.”
“Eighth grade,” Carter says, winking. “My English teacher was so hot. I read the book just so I could impress her when I answered all the questions. Didn’t work, but you know what they say. You miss eighty percent of the shots you don’t take.”
“Uh, a hundred percent,” Maddox says.
Carter tips his imaginary hat to Maddox. “Thanks for the support, bro.”