Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“Hello?” I say, my wide eyes jumping between them. “He was stalking me for over a year!”
“That’s what’s bothering you?” Lachlan asks, frowning.
“I mean, yeah, shouldn’t it bother me?”
“I’m sorry.” Lyla laughs. “We’re the wrong crowd for this. Lachlan stalked the fuck out of me.”
“And I’d do it again,” he says, grinning at her as he taps Rosa’s back.
“I don’t mean sneaky social media stalking. I mean legit stalking, with a PI,” I clarify again.
“I tried to get people to use facial recognition on some guy she went on a date with once,” Lachlan says, like it’s something he’s proud of.
“And we weren’t even together,” Lyla adds. Lachlan shoots her an annoyed look.
My jaw drops for a moment. “That is not normal.”
Lachlan frowns. “Who wants normal?”
“Right? Is it even love if there’s no stalking involved?” Lyla asks in a deadpan tone and smiles at Lachlan when he smirks at her. She shakes her head and looks at me again. “Have you spoken to him about it?”
“No. I just found out a couple of hours ago.”
“Is it a make it or break it kind of thing?” Lyla asks.
Even as I’m frowning, I’m shaking my head, which only further proves how far gone I am for this man. It bothers me, yes, but I know I won’t leave him because of it. Crazy as it may be—and it is crazy—I trust him.
“I have to be honest,” Lachlan says, standing up and putting Rosa James in her bassinet near Lyla’s side of the bed. “I’m kind of surprised Finn would do this.”
“Because he’s so reserved?” Lyla asks.
“I guess. And I’ve never even seen him look at the same woman twice. Definitely not after they hook up.” He flinches a little. “Sorry, Joss.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” I shrug. “I know his history.”
He chuckles. “I swear his eye twitches every time Theo says you’re his girlfriend.”
“Jealous of a child? He sounds insane,” Lyla says, shooting Lachlan an amused glance.
He rolls his eyes as he leans down and kisses her. When he pulls away, he gazes at her with so much love that I have to look away. Isn’t that what I said I always wanted? Their kind of love? Finn looks at me the way they look at each other, and I’m sure I reciprocate it.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at them. “This was helpful. Weird, but helpful.”
They laugh as I stand up and begin saying my goodbyes to them. “I’m going to see if Tia Nina needs help with Theo, and then I’m heading out.”
By the time I leave, I feel a little lighter, at least on this front. I haven’t stopped thinking about what Leo could possibly have to show me.
49
FINN
Ilet out a harsh breath as I walk toward the locker room. Cameras and journalists are already piled up outside of the door, waiting to pounce the first chance they get. I’ve always made it very clear that I won’t speak to them. Especially before, during, or after games, but part of my contract with the Owls—the part that makes me a minority owner—says I need to play nice and speak to them. It’ll be difficult to do, especially after our first loss of the season. As we get near the cameras, I glance at our goalie, who’s been brooding since the game-winning puck slid under his glove during the last ten seconds of the game.
“I knew I should’ve gone left,” he grumbles when he catches me looking.
“It’s in the past now. Get your head ready for tomorrow,” I say, repeating the advice I got when I was a first-year player and I lost my first game.
We walk inside, where our coaches are waiting. Coach P gives his usual pep talk, but unlike the last handful of games that we’ve played and won, the championship belt the team has been passing around is nowhere to be seen. We made a decision after our first preseason game to only celebrate wins. I know better than anyone how long the season is and that losses are inevitable, so we won’t sit around moping about them. The WWE-style championship belt will only be handed out to our MVP after a win.
They wait a few minutes after the pep talk to let cameras inside. A group of them catches me and I decide to answer their questions quickly—we’ll be fine for tomorrow, there was nothing we could do to stop that last puck, we should have been more aggressive, blah blah blah bullshit. Once I’m done playing nice, I walk toward my stuff.
“Yeah, basketball practice started already,” I hear Damian say to someone as I walk by, and my ears instantly perk up. “She says she won’t try to play professionally.”
I glance over and see him talking to one of the wingers from the team we just played against. Max Gomez is a Fairview native, so I’m not surprised Damian knows him. I just don’t understand why I’m hearing my girlfriend’s name coming out of his mouth for a fourth time in as many minutes.