Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“I don’t have any family.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, looking concerned. “What about your mom?”
“She died.”
Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh no! I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
“It was a long time ago.”
I drop the chopped peppers into the bowl and start on the mushrooms.
“How long ago?”
I stop for a second to think about it. “Twenty-six years.”
“Twenty-six years? How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
She gasps. “That means you were… six? Oh no. Tucker…”
My heart stops when I see her blue eyes flooding with tears.
I haven’t been around too many crying women and I don’t know how to handle them. I’ve never comforted one before. Women are still a peculiar animal to me. I always feel out of my element when I’m around them.
I just keep chopping and hope she stops soon.
“Was your dad crushed?” she asks as a tear slides down her cheek.
“I never met him.”
“But… Who raised you?”
Why are we even talking about this? It happened years ago.
“My stepdad.”
She puts her hand on her heart and looks at me like I’m a lost puppy or something. “I’m so happy you had somebody. Was it just the two of you?”
“Yeah.”
“He must have been a nice man to raise you all on his own.”
Nice is not the word I’d choose to describe Frank. Brutal. Relentless. Tyrannical. Those would be better words.
“He gave me a lot of skills.”
“What do you mean? What skills?”
Normally, I’d be more likely to knock someone out before I willingly shared any of this, but I don’t know. I guess I can’t say no to Jane.
“Hockey skills. Fighting skills.”
“Fighting skills?” She looks concerned.
“Frank’s goal was to turn me into the best fighter in hockey history. He’d make me fight him twice a day and do hours of hockey drills from the early morning until late into the night.”
“Oh my.”
Those tears start up again. Shit. I’m doing this all wrong.
“It has a happy ending though.”
“Does it?” She doesn’t look convinced.
“He succeeded. By a mile.”
“Tucker, you had to fight your stepdad. Every day?”
I shrug as I scoop the mushrooms up with my knife and drop them into the bowl. She watches as I take out an onion and start slicing it.
“It was only hard for the first ten years,” I tell her. “After that, it got easier. He was the one who got his ass kicked every day.”
I laugh. I’m expecting her to laugh too, but she looks horrified.
“It wasn’t all bad,” I tell her. “He was looking out for me in his own twisted way. And he did give me this gift. I’ve made tens of millions of dollars because of him.”
“The gift of beating people up?” she asks, looking at me with sad eyes.
“Exactly,” I say, relieved that she’s finally seeing it from my point of view. “What about you? Are you from San Antonio?”
I’m so captivated by her that I forget to continue with the omelet as I listen to her tell me all about her big family back in Shakings, Colorado. She’s close with her parents and with her brother and two sisters.
With every word she says, I fall a little deeper in love.
It’s more than a crush now. I’m getting obsessed with this girl. I can feel it forming and strengthening within. She’s going to be on my mind constantly, I can feel it.
I finally get the first omelet finished when the buzzer to the gate rings.
“That must be Alina,” Jane says as I slide the steaming plate in front of her.
“Already?” I grunt under my breath as I head over to buzz her in. An urge to keep her locked out crosses my mind, but I push it away. I don’t think Jane is going to like me being rude to her friend again.
I let Alina in and return to the kitchen to my girl. She’s devouring the omelet, which makes me smile. I like a girl who can eat.
“It’s sooo good!” she says with a radiant smile.
I want to ask her out. I want to get out of this friendzone I’m trapped in, but I’m hopeless when it comes to girls. I know how to growl at them and warn them to stay away, but I don’t have any other moves.
Alina walks in and smiles knowingly when she sees Jane at my kitchen counter.
“Nice to see you here so early,” she says with a grin.
Jane’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. I wonder what that’s about…
“Are you ready to get started?” Alina asks.
Jane hops off the stool with a shy smile. “Sure!”
She gives me a lingering look, thanks me for the omelet, and then heads toward the basement without another word.
“Hey, Jane,” Alina says as she looks from me to her. “I have an extra ticket to the game tonight. Front row seats. Want to come?”
Jane turns around with a big smile on her face. “Would that be okay, Tucker?”