Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I grinned at her, loving the way her optimism knew no bounds. She wasn’t wrong, but it was hard to think about that life when it was such a starkly different path than the one I’d been planning the last few years.
Caspian regained control of the puck, soaring toward Jansen at the goal like a fucking shark through water. My heart raced against my chest as I watched him, as if I was the one speeding across the ice, cutting it with my skates as I expertly controlled the puck. God, he was beautiful to watch, a true master of his profession, and I suddenly wondered how I’d gotten lucky enough to be able to watch him in this raw form. He wasn’t playing for his team, but with his family. His brothers by ice instead of blood. It was electric and wild and brutally beautiful, just like him.
He shot the puck, a hard crack echoing through the rink, and Jansen dove, the puck sliding past his outstretched glove with only an inch to spare. It hit the back of the net, and London groaned.
“Damn,” she said. “Caz will never let him live that one down.”
I laughed then, unable to stop from shooting to my feet and cheering. Caspian glanced up, eyes locking with mine through the helmet, and the smile he gave me? The pride in those eyes and the way he winked?
It was enough to make me forget we were pretending.
And that was dangerous and terrifying enough to have me sinking quickly back to my seat.
“Maybe he let him score,” I said to London, desperate to get back to reality.
London laughed. “If you believe that,” she said. “Then you have a ton to learn about these hockey stars.”
I laughed with her, watching as the game picked back up. And I couldn’t deny the building something in my chest, rising with a flurry of anticipation as I realized I wanted to know more. Wanted to learn more. Not just about hockey, but about Caspian.
I knew that road would only lead to more pain, and I’d had about as much of that as I could handle lately.
“Your moto boots are absolutely killer with those shorts,” I said, smiling at Savannah from where we sat in the waiting room of the designer bridal shop. “But aren’t you hot?” I asked. “How are you handling it?”
“I simply refuse to do otherwise,” Savannah said, clinking my champagne flute with hers before we both took a drink.
I laughed, enjoying the fun comradery of a new friend. Savannah was a no-bullshit, force to be reckoned with that I’d instantly fallen for. “I commend you,” I said, dipping my head to her. “You’re a goddess.”
She flipped her hair dramatically. “Hendrix says so every night.”
That had us laughing so hard we nearly spit out our champagne.
“You two ready?” London called from behind the thick blue curtain in the dress store, and we both instantly sat up straight. “Promise you won’t laugh?” she added.
“Promise,” I said in unison with Savannah and flashed her an excited look from where we sat on a little settee in the giant dressing room. London may be having a small-town wedding, but there would be nothing small-town about the dress if this store was any indication.
“Okay,” she said timidly, swinging open the curtain and stepping onto the little platform in front of three body-length mirrors.
“Oh my gosh,” I breathed the words, sitting up straighter in my seat. Savannah mimicked my look of shock as we took her in.
“Is it too poofy at the bottom?” London asked as she self-consciously ran her hands over the lace fabric that billowed beyond her waist.
“Not at all,” I said, shaking my head. Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them, and a weight settled over my heart. “You’re stunning.”
“Sterling is going to bawl his eyes out,” Savannah joked, her voice cracking too.
“You think?” London asked, spinning to face herself in the mirrors.
She looked beyond gorgeous in the garment that was sleeveless, accentuating her curves, the lux fabric spilling out beyond her hips and covering her feet. She looked like a freaking princess.
“Ohmigod,” she said, spinning to face us again, a smile lighting up her eyes. “I’m going to marry Jansen in this!” She squealed, and Savannah and I joined her.
Savannah and London quickly fell into a chatter about what would happen at the wedding, who would give the best speech, and who would embarrass themselves. I settled back in my chair, not wanting to be a third wheel to the conversation I couldn’t possibly keep up with. They had a family with these pro-athletes, and while I loved London, I didn’t have any input to add.
My stomach sank a bit heavier, agitating those already gathered tears in my eyes. My best friend from childhood was about to marry a man who looked at her like she was the center of his universe. Who treated her like a queen and loved her like one too. And me?