Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Hey.” I waited until he was lacing up his skates. “You okay?”
“Nope. But I will be.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I wasn’t the kind of guy nice girls married.” His voice got a little edgy, and I didn’t blame him. “That I was a bad boy nice girls fucked until they found the men they were going to marry.”
That was bullshit because while we all had moments of fuckery—sleeping with puck bunnies, talking trash, and living the lives of pro athletes—Boone was a good guy. One of the best. Smart, educated, and from a nice, middle-class family. His father came on the annual dads’ trips wearing knee socks and sandals half the time, so incredibly proud of his son and so honored to hang with us, he didn’t care how nerdy he was. His mom baked cookies whenever she was in town, feeding all of us and learning the names of each of our wives, girlfriends, and children. And there was a fucking ton of them.
I’d known Missy wasn’t the woman for Boone but I’d never imagined she thought she was too good for him. Fuck her and her arrogance.
“I won’t say anything bad about her,” I said slowly, “because you two have broken up and gotten back together more than once, but you know she is full of shit, right? You are a good man and deserve better.”
He didn’t look at me, reaching for a roll of tape and absently fingering it.
“Did you and Missy break up again?” Rory demanded, overhearing the last part of what I’d said.
I winced, because I hadn’t meant for anyone to hear, but what Missy had said to Boone pissed me off. I really disliked when people fucked with my friends.
Boone blew out a breath and looked up. Luckily, only a few players were still in here, the rest either out in the hallway or already on the ice.
“She said no,” he said, loud enough for everyone in the general vicinity to hear. “And while I’m prepared for you all to bust my balls over it, I would appreciate it not being today. Give me a day or so and then give it your best shot.”
Wes frowned. “Dude, we all have fucking PhDs in ballbusting. It’s part of the job. But we don’t kick our brothers when they’re down.”
“First we lift you up,” Lars said quietly.
“Then we knock you back on your ass,” Nash added, a smile quirking on his lips. “Once you’re ready for it.”
“Thanks.” Boone looked away. “Just getting it straight in my head.” He got up and clomped out of the room on his skates, calling for one of the trainers.
We all looked at each other.
“I have plans tonight,” I said after a moment. “But someone needs to take him out and get him drunk. He shouldn’t be alone.” I looked at Rory since he was single and always up for partying. “Can you handle this without being a dumbass?”
Rory flipped me the bird. “Hey, I may be an asshole seventy-five percent of the time, but I got him. Leave it to me.”
I got to Sawyer’s place just before six and grabbed the bottle of Napa Valley cabernet I’d picked up. Lucy liked Napa Valley wines, and though she’d told me not to bring anything, it felt weird not to. We hadn’t had a pot to piss in but on the rare occasion we went somewhere, my grandmother found something to bring. A bouquet of flowers picked from a field, a small dessert she’d put together, something. You didn’t arrive empty-handed, and while I was a grown man now who didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone with my manners, I still wanted her to be proud of me.
“Hi.” Lucy opened the door just as I lifted my hand to knock.
“Hello.” I leaned over and brushed my lips across her cheek. She smelled delicious again, making it hard to remember why I was there. “Uh, this is for you. I hope you like it.”
“I told you not to bring anything.” Her eyes met mine with a curious smile, as if she’d noticed my bumble and knew she’d been the cause.
“My grandmother taught me it is impolite to arrive with nothing.”
“My mother taught me the same,” she said. “But this is different.”
“It’s not.” I followed her into the house, noting Sawyer was nowhere to be found. “Where is Sawyer?”
She made a face. “Showering.”
“Is he no better?”
She sighed, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought for a minute, after that attempted break-in, he was, but now he’s basically back to drinking all day. I’m running out of ideas, Kon.” We walked into the kitchen where she checked something in the oven. “Oh, the bread is ready.” She lifted a baking sheet of some kind, setting it on the counter. She’d just put it down when she let out a shriek, yanking her hand back and sticking her finger in her mouth.