Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
No.
I simply smirked, tucked her thick, dark, wavy locks behind her ear, brushing her industrial piercing, and promised to Superman her from that shit in the future. She kissed me and about four minutes later we were in a magic shop looking for wedding rings.
Not the dumbest shit I’ve ever done…but it’s kind of hard to beat drunkenly challenging a moose to a swimming competition.
I could’ve fucking died doing that.
Then again, I feel everyone almost dies during their twenty first birthday stunts, so it wasn’t that stupid.
Geoffrey retrieves his phone from his shorts pocket at the same time he declares, “I believe Hennington is now the youngest owner in the league’s history; however, do not quote me on that.”
“She’s like thirty! She’s definitely gotta be the youngest!”
“Thirty-seven.”
The correction catches me completely off guard. “Seriously?”
“Yes. She just celebrated her birthday not too long ago.”
She doesn’t look anywhere near that old.
Not that it’s “old”.
Just a bit older than me.
Okay.
A lot fucking older than me since I’m only twenty-five but whatever.
That doesn’t mean the shit between us can’t work out.
“Hennington was born on Valentine’s Day, so the damn thing is impossible to forget.” His fingers fly across his screen, although I don’t know if he’s absentmindedly talking to me or texting whoever. “It is also part of the reason the woman hates roses—of all colors—and boxes of chocolate—particularly in heart shapes—and big fancy balls.” He cuts his gaze up to mine. “The parties, not the ones that dangle between your legs.”
“Figured.” Snatching a new donut happens alongside my continued interrogation. “How long have you two been braiding each other’s pigtails and talking about boys in bands you like?”
Geoffrey offers me his middle finger as a retort and resumes his texting. “We’ve been best mates since we were kids. We often ended up at the same parties or charity events—both sticking out like a pint at a wine tasting—and naturally took a liking to one another.” After hitting send, his stare finds mine yet again. “I saw her quite frequently in our early primary school days. Once Old Man Hennington and the Nutcracker—her mother—officially split, she typically only came back to Doctenn for holiday during Christmas or during the summer when the players were on holiday as well and the Nutcracker guilted her ex into it.” The slightest bit of sadness slips into his stare. “Honestly? I hated that shit. I used to wish she would just change her mind and opt to live with her mother instead, but that woman is a bloody monster, so I never blamed her for choosing to live with her father.” My boss tries to smile through the obvious sorrow. “He was a pretty good man—minus the whole begging me to marry his daughter thing.”
Jealousy latches onto my tone. “Why the fuck would he beg you for that shit?”
There’s no denying the fact he senses the displeasure in my voice considering the way he begins to grin. “Old Man Hennington hoped she’d fall for me to get her away from the puck life. The thing is…I have not been, nor will I ever be her type.”
“Which is?” I over eagerly investigate, wanting it to be me.
Needing it to be.
Geoffrey quirks an eyebrow prompting me to lean over to grab another donut while attempting to play off the desperation. “Just fucking curious about the sexy, older woman I’m now married to.”
“You know you’re probably not actually married, yes?”
“Pretty sure that magician stripper, Magical Mike-”
“That has to be bloody copyright infringement.”
“-was the real deal. And if he wasn’t,” sinking my teeth into the chocolate éclair is proceeded by a small, bare shoulder shrug, “then what the fuck ever. It’s just another wild brick to the Bricks pile.”
“Oh, just what you need. Another piece to the Jenga game you have the bollocks to call your existence.”
“Let the pieces fall where they will, bro.”
He rolls his eyes on a slow headshake. “Unbelievable.”
“Pretty sure that’s what your best friend was screaming at the top of her lungs last night as she came on my cock.”
Geoffrey’s irritation increases, soothing a few nerves that had managed to get crinkled.
It’s not that I want him pissed off.
I just want him to remember that the most incredible woman he’s ever met chose me.
She could’ve had him, done that whole best friend to boyfriend bullshit or best friend who you fuck until you’re over whatever emotional shit you need to get over thing, but she didn’t. She picked being with me—the fun, carefree type—over the boring, got it all together asshole, I know he is. And maybe…maybe a little part of me likes that shit. I’ve always been the one sneaking out of a woman’s house before the sun rises like some sort of fucked up vampire, yet he’s the one that’s encouraged to come over in the daylight. Stay awhile. Or forever. Maybe…maybe I like knowing that just once it feels good to be the one chosen for more than a fuck.