Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
BJ messages at dinnertime with good news. He and Adele placed third overall, which means they’re moving on. They’re having a celebratory dinner in Chicago before they drive home, so I don’t rush back.
At nine he messages that he’s home, so I catch a ride with one of my teammates, but by the time I arrive, BJ is already dead asleep, with the light on, holding his phone. I set the device on the nightstand and cover him with a blanket before flicking off the light and leaving him to sleep.
The last couple of weeks have been intense; he’s been on the ice six to eight hours a day rehearsing, and despite his easy personality, the struggle to perfect that triple-twist lift was eating at him.
I work on an assignment for my class, but I’m exhausted from the high of today, so at ten I climb into bed. I wake at midnight to use the bathroom, and my brain turns on. Unable to settle, I go downstairs to get a glass of water and find BJ standing at the sliding glass door, eating a banana. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. His hair hangs down, freed from its usual tie, the ends barely reaching his chin. It’s shorter than usual, because he had it cut right before the competition.
“Hey,” I whisper as I move to stand beside him.
He turns his head, and I can see the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks. He had to shave his beard yesterday for the competition. It was a little startling to see him without facial hair. It makes him look more his age. But he has a strong, angular jaw, high cheekbones and full lips. I like both versions equally.
“You didn’t wake me up when you got home.”
I rest my cheek on his biceps. “You fell asleep with the light on. I figured you were exhausted and needed sleep more than anything.”
“Mm... I was pretty beat.” He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Yesterday was long. My dad said you scored two goals and an assist. I wish I could have been there to see it.”
“And I wish I could have been there to see you compete.”
“Maybe next time.”
“Fingers crossed we can make that work.” Although I’m not sure Adele will be all that excited to have me there. I slide my hands over his chest and let my fingers glide along the edge of his jaw. “College scouts came to the game.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Oh yeah?”
“I got an offer for a full ride—tuition, books, accommodations, meal plan. Everything is covered as long as I keep my GPA above three-point-oh.”
His face lights up with a smile. “That’s great.” Then it disappears and a flash of emotion I don’t quite understand crosses his face. “What college?”
“Monarch. They amended their initial scholarship offer.” My stomach flutters with nerves as I wait for his reaction. It’s one thing to spend a summer having fun together, but going to the same college is different. We don’t have a label. We’re just BJ and Winter, figure skater and hockey player trading orgasms off the ice.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hugs me tight and lifts me off my feet. “Holy shit. That’s awesome!”
“Shh! You’ll wake your parents!”
“They sleep with a fan on. They’re dead to the world.” He sets me down. “Did you say yes? Does your mom know? Do my parents?”
“I haven’t officially accepted, but I plan to. Yes, my mom knows. She sat in on the meeting with the scout and the coach from the college team, and she wants me to accept. And your dad and Coach Waters were at the meeting too.”
“This is going to be amazing, Snowflake. We get to do college together.” He cups my face between his palms and kisses me, long and deep. “I think this calls for a celebration of the orgasm variety. Up for a little middle-of-the-night Moany Monday?”
I chuckle. “Moany Monday sounds like fun.”
He laces our fingers, and I follow him up the stairs to his bedroom. He closes the door and flicks a switch. The string lights at the perimeter of the ceiling blink on, basking the room in a soft, golden glow.
Normally we make out in his Jeep, or sometimes at the lake during one of our late-night swims. He’s gone down on me a couple of times in the pool house. I have to bite the fleshy part of my palm to keep from making too much noise. But I don’t sneak into his room at night. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t want to give his parents a reason to cut my stay here short.
Tonight feels different, though. Like things are changing. I’ve always assumed he’d go to college in the fall, and I’d stay here. What Adele said about me being his summer fling held some truth.