Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I could hear dishes being set down, then silence. “Seriously? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I thought about it, but…I knew you were feeling like shit from treatment, and…I had my reasons for not telling Mom.”
After a beat, Andy said, “Dude, this is me. You can tell me. My body’s sick, but my mind is the same as ever.”
I immediately felt guilty for not saying anything sooner. My brother and I had always been close. He was the one I’d call if I was in a jam and vice versa.
“Okay, well…don’t tell Mom because it’s Emma’s place to do it, but, uh…”
“Just say it, fuck. Is she sick? Please don’t tell me she has cancer.”
“She has a kid.”
A few seconds of silence passed and Andy exhaled hard. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah, his name is Joey and he’s four. And he’s staying with me while she’s at rehab.”
Andy let out a full-throated laugh and I furrowed my brow, confused.
“What?” I said.
“You’re serious?” he said, sobering. “You?”
What the fuck? Like it was so hard to imagine me taking care of my own nephew?
“Yes, me. My teammates’ wives and my coach’s daughter are helping me.”
“What’s he like? Has she taken care of him? Shit, that poor kid.”
I immediately felt defensive on Emma’s behalf. For all her faults, I knew she was a good mom. That was the whole reason she was enduring the shame of admitting her alcoholism and going to rehab.
“He’s a great kid. He’s at a sleepover at one of my teammates’ houses tonight. I’ll send you some pictures, but this stays between us, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I heard female voices in the background, and Andy said, “I’m talking to Mikey.”
“Mikey!” my mom said. “Ask him why he never calls his mother anymore.”
I smiled, wishing I was standing in Andy and Carrie’s kitchen with them. “Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow and I wish I could eat her lasagna tonight. I have to go. I’ve got to get ready for a date.”
“A date? Mikey has a date!”
Mom and Carrie squealed in the background.
“Don’t wear a V-neck! No woman wants to see your chest hair coming out the top of your shirt!” Mom called. “And don’t cheap out on dinner!”
Andy chuckled into the phone.
“Tell her I don’t own any V-necks and we’re going to Chick-fil-A,” I said. “I’ll catch you later, man.”
“Bye.”
Andy ended the call and I set my phone down, picked up the refrigerator magnets Joey had scattered on the floor and then headed for the shower. I was looking forward to having Jolie all to myself this evening for the first time since I’d helped her escape on her wedding day.
“Am I too dressed up?” Jolie asked as our eyes met when she opened the front door of her apartment.
I liked her in her sweats and stocking caps, but tonight she was stunning in a simple black dress with a V-neck and long sleeves, her hair pulled up with a few loose pieces resting against her porcelain skin.
She’d dressed up for me. The woman who had been off-limits since the moment I’d seen her was telling me it was okay to look at her and it was okay to want her.
And fuck, did I want her. All I could think about was pushing that dress up to her hips, cupping her ass in my hands to pull her close, and devouring her mouth. I wanted to feel every inch of her.
“You look perfect,” I said with a grin.
She looked down at the dress and then back up at me. “So I had shapewear on under the dress, but it was smashing my internal organs, so I just took it off and now I’m all sweaty.”
I arched a brow, amused and delighted by her complete honesty. “And here I thought that glow was because of me.”
“Maybe some of it is,” she said, smiling.
“I think your shape is perfect as it is, and I’m sure we’ll both have a better time if your internal organs aren’t smashed, so…shall we?”
I held out an arm to her and she took it, putting the strap of her purse over her other shoulder.
“Hold that thought,” she said. “I need your arm because I hardly ever wear heels, but I have to lock the door first.”
I shamelessly ogled her as she turned around to lock the door. She was tall and curvy in all the right places, and her black heels were sexy as fuck. I didn’t want them to hurt her feet, though.
“Hey, you sure you want to wear the heels?” I asked. “You can leave them with the shapewear and be comfortable if you want.”
She shrugged. “I hardly ever get to dress up and feel pretty. I stuck a pair of flats in my bag in case I need to change later.”
Our eyes locked and a slight flush crept over her cheeks. My heart pounded in my chest just from looking at her. What was happening here? I’d seen Jolie many times in the years I’d been playing hockey here, but I’d never seen her like this. She wasn’t just my coach’s daughter or my fellow volunteer youth hockey coach; she was also a strong, smart, sexy woman I couldn’t get enough of.