One Tasty Pucking Meet Cute (Frosty Harbor #2) Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Frosty Harbor Series by Penelope Bloom
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
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A block of resentment slides away from me, even if it stings that she took things so far when she broke it off with me. “So you never did see it. Huh,” I add softly to myself. “I was really pissed about that, you know. I texted you to tell you and thought you just didn’t give a shit. Honestly, it’s probably what ate at me the most. More than the breakup. I just didn’t understand how you could be cold enough to not give a shit about that.”

“God,” She breathes, hugging me suddenly. “I’m sorry, Nolan. I… I had to make sure I didn’t change my mind. Changing my number meant you wouldn’t be able to convince me to stay with you. To drop everything for you.”

“And that was a risk?”

She sniffles, and I realize she’s crying. Does she feel that guilty?

“I wanted to make sure I stuck to my plans. I knew what it felt like to watch a dream slip away. Figure skating was gone just like that when I hurt my ankle. It left a void that was so, so hard to fill. And then I had cooking, and you came along, and I worried—”

“You don’t need to feel bad just because of what my mom did,” I say. She’s crying and her voice is shaky, and I can’t stand seeing her sad like this. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for going after what matters to you. You don’t have to apologize for it,” I add, correcting myself.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you reached out. If Jake didn’t know… does that mean I was the only one you told?”

I chuckle humorlessly, nodding my head. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I’m such a terrible person.” She buries her forehead in my chest, shaking her head.

“You’re not. You changed your number. You didn’t know, so stop feeling bad about it. It’s over and I figured it out on my own.”

“Did you, though? It’s okay to have wounds, Nolan. Not everything that happens to us has to get fixed or solved. Sometimes, people just carry the hurt around.”

I shrug. “I manage.”

She pulls back, folding her arms and giving me a disapproving look.

“It wasn’t your problem,” I try. “It still isn’t.”

“Just because we aren’t a couple, it doesn’t mean I can’t care about you, Nolan. Why can’t you get that through your head?”

I still feel frustration on the verge of boiling over. More and more, I’ve been so close to blowing up. I’ve been shoving my emotions down in what I thought was some kind of bottomless pit, but now it’s all rising out of the shadows. It’s fresh, painful, and I can’t figure out what the hell to do with it all. “I didn’t mean to talk about that back there,” I say. “I don’t want to burden anybody else with my problems. It just slipped out. I was tired of Jake riding my ass so hard, like he doesn’t think I’ll be able to block a puck if anything is on my mind.”

Mia puts her hands on my arms, rubbing up and down in reassuring lines. Her eyes are full of concern and worry. “Just because you can deal with something on your own, it doesn’t mean you have to.”

I swallow hard. For some reason, her point hits me with more force than it should. I blink a few times, shaking my head. “I’m the one who helps fix people’s problems. I don’t need help. I give it.” The words ring hollow, even to me. Maybe two years ago, that was true. Two years ago, that was me. But I’ve been running from that side of myself lately, haven’t I? I’ve been the guy who withdraws from everything.

“You just need to let someone in.”

I can feel a touch of truth to her words, but I’m too stubborn to relent. I shake my head. “I’d rather deal with it on my own.”

“Too bad, tough guy,” she says, smiling a little now as she tilts her head to find my eyes again. “You spilled enough beans that I’m on your case, now. So I’m going to keep being here for you until you get it through your thick head that you’ll have to open up with me. I promise I won’t change my number again.”

I close my eyes, mostly because there’s so much empathy and care in her expression that it’s making something in my chest hurt. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“We don’t have to talk,” she says.

Now my eyes shoot open. I narrow them. “What do you mean?”

She licks her lips. “Maybe you need a little release… Maybe I could help with that.”

Those calming lines she has been rubbing on my arms drift downward and her hands find my waist. She steps even closer until her small body is against mine. The pressure of her against me is the best fucking medicine on Earth.


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