Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
But you also taught me to be independent. To handle the world. To make it on my own. And to trust myself. Part of trusting myself is choosing who I want to love. Part of choosing that also means knowing when it’s time to share that love with others. I wasn’t honest with you. For that I am sorry. But I am not sorry I fell in love with Miles Falcon. I’m not sorry that I’m going to pursue this relationship with him. I’m not sorry I want to be with him at all. He’s kind, caring, and strong. He makes artichoke pasta, orders the tea I love, brings me wildflowers in a mason jar, and makes sure I have everything I need.
Best of all? He listens to me.
That means everything. As you know.
I also know you think no one is worthy of your daughters, but I’m here to tell you—he is worthy. Believe me. Trust me. I chose well, Dad. And I chose well in part because you taught me what I’m worth—the world. And he gives me that.
I hope you’ll forgive me for lying, and I also hope you’ll have dinner with my boyfriend and me sometime soon. Because I love you, and I love him.
Love,
Leighton
I email it to him and let out a sigh that’s full of hope and wistfulness. Hope for the future. Wistfulness for the past. And a new faith in the present. When I’m done, I take a photo of the locket around my neck and I send it to Miles.
It’s the story of us—our beginning and the rest of our story, waiting to be told in photos, in words, and in days and nights together.
After my meeting with Melissa and the bridal web site, I tug my hair into a ponytail and go to pole class early, repeating you can do it in my head as I ask Jewel to lower the volume of the music. “I can hear you better if you do that,” I add, and I don’t feel like I’m drawing attention to myself. I’m asking for what I need.
She doesn’t bat an eye. “Of course. Thanks for letting me know,” she says.
And this time, I can hear her above the beat as I spin. Turns out she’s a pretty good instructor after all.
50
I’VE BEEN BUSY
Miles
A little earlier
Morning skate is brutal.
Coach works us harder than usual—sprints, extended drills, endless shots on goal. It’s punishing, especially for an out-of-town practice. And I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.
When it’s over, Coach blows his whistle and sends us to the locker room. He paces as he reviews this afternoon’s game plan, cool and methodical as ever, not once looking at me. When he finishes, he gives a curt nod and walks out.
I don’t know if this is the start of a “you’re dead to me” relationship or if he’s treating me like someone he’s about to trade. I called my agent this morning, and I’m waiting to hear back. But honestly? The trade isn’t what I care about. The captaincy isn’t either.
It’s her. Just her.
But before I can figure out what to say to Coach, Rowan and Tyler pull me aside as we leave the locker room, their faces grim.
“Dude,” Tyler begins.
“What the fuck?” Rowan seconds.
We understand each other perfectly with very few words. I scratch my jaw, blow out a breath. “Yeah. It’s all kinds of fucked up.”
And I’m no closer to knowing how to handle it than I was last night.
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Rowan says, dead serious. “In all my years playing for him.” Then he winces. “I heard some of what went down in the hall.”
Ah, shit. That sucks, but of course, that’s the price to pay. “Well, at least I don’t have to tell you what’s going on then.”
“Right, but if he’s pissed, you need to get this straightened out,” Rowan says, all business. “No one likes an angry Coach.”
“You gotta man up,” Tyler adds.
They couldn’t be more right. “But how? He already knows. I tried to say I’m sorry. What do I do? What would you do if this happened to one of your daughters?”
Tyler cringes. “I don’t even want to think about my nine-year-old dating.”
“Yeah, dude. Mia’s seven, for fuck’s sake,” Rowan chimes in.
“You get my point though.”
Tyler curls his nose. Rowan growls. They both sigh.
Then Tyler says, “First off, no man is good enough for my daughter.”
“What he said,” Rowan adds.
“But if anyone ever is, all I’d need to know is that she’s his first priority. Always.”
And all at once, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. But I’ve thought of it now.
“That’s perfect. Thanks,” I say, then head to find Coach right away. It’s not hard. He’s fifty or so feet away, down the corridor right outside the visitors’ coaches’ room, head bent over his phone.