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)
“Maeve didn’t ask me to, but I wanted to get some pics for her.” She brandishes her camera almost apologetically. “I also kind of can’t resist taking pictures. Actually, that’s not true. I’m downright addicted.”
She’s moved away from the implications of that nickname, so I do the same. “Sounds like you chose the right profession.”
“Definitely,” she says. “It’s a job and a hobby.”
“Are you always the one taking pictures of friends?”
“Always,” she says emphatically. “When we’re out and about. When we’re at home. When we’re anywhere. I do the same with my sister too. Making sure I have pictures of us doing even everyday things, whether thrifting, or wandering around Japantown eating crepes. Because crepes are really good and sometimes you just need to capture the good stuff.”
I laugh. “Two for one—pictures and crepes.”
“Exactly.”
“So photography is also a passion,” I add.
“It is. Sounds like your job too.” She shoots me a playful look. Or maybe it’s playfully chiding since she says, “Though who knows—you never really talked much about it.”
Her tone is teasing, letting me know she’s not annoyed I never mentioned it that day. I’m so damn glad I didn’t. In that case, ignorance was definitely bliss.
“Still don’t regret that. Also, it’s definitely a passion.”
She takes a beat, then tilts her head. “So, you might be captain?”
My brow knits. “How did you know?” The question bursts out, but then, of course, the answer arrives obviously. “Your dad told you?”
I hadn’t thought about that before—that she might know things about the team before others do. But it makes sense.
She laughs lightly, shaking her head. “No. He doesn’t really give me tips like that. Nor do I seek them out.”
It’s a little bit like a rebuke, but that’s fair, I suppose. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like…”
But I’m not sure what I didn’t mean to make it sound like—that she’s got the coach’s ear? Of course she’s got the coach’s ear. That’s different though than hunting for info, which still leaves me wondering. “How did you know then?”
She rocks back and forth on her black boots, a slight smile gracing those lush lips again. It’s that look I saw the day I met her—confidence. “Want me to let you in on a little secret?”
That word—secret—sounds too sexy on her lips, and I am helpless to resist it. Or, really, her. “Yeah, I do.”
She looks around, then says in a soft voice, “I read his lips when he was talking to you earlier tonight.”
My jaw drops. That is hot and impressive. “You did?”
But of course, she did. The look in her eyes is devilish pride, and deservedly so as she says, “Yes.”
“I am impressed.”
She gives a no-big-deal shrug of her shoulder. “Girl’s got skills.”
“You do,” I say. I knew generally speaking that she could read lips, but didn’t realize she was so damn good at it. As someone who loves learning, I’m fascinated with how people pick up different skills. “Did you set out to learn how or have you always been able to? I honestly don’t know how that works.”
“I don’t want to say it just happened. It was more like one day I realized that’s what I had been doing all along by watching people form words—you wind up learning the way lips move when they make certain sounds. It’s most helpful, though, to know the context of a conversation. But you’re not likely to pick up one hundred percent of a conversation just from lip reading—the movies kind of exaggerate that. When you read lips, you have to combine it with what you expect someone to say, their facial expressions, and so on. In the case of you and my dad, it was easy enough—putting two and two together for what he might be saying to you, and I could make an educated guess.”
I let out a low whistle. “You could be a secret weapon though.”
“Accurate.”
“Like reading things other teams say, plays they call.”
“I’m pretty sure sports teams have tried that before, which is why other teams cover their mouths when they talk.”
“True, true,” I say, taking a beat to just…look at Leighton. Her blue eyes are something else—deep pools that have me transfixed. It’s hard to look away from them but I do, only so I can take the rest of her in. While her hair mostly falls over her ears, I do catch a hint of silver above her long earring. I’m tempted to point out that she’s wearing the flower ones I gave her. But that feels dangerously close to flirting. Everything with her does. Mostly because of how annoyingly fast my pulse surges when I’m near her. Funny, how you can be burned from a past romance, but then once you meet the right person you’re ready to charge headfirst into a new one. What’s not so funny is that I met the right person, but I can’t have her.