Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I swear you could hear a pin drop; I don’t think anyone actually says anything. I’m not even sure they knew what was going on before Mark just swaggered across the room toward Vivienne. “Yes,” she says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. She pushes her chair away from the table, and the whole time, everyone watches as the scene plays out.
“Good, now let’s go,” he says, and she walks around the table, her hand slipping in his like they’ve done it for a long time.
“What in the fuck is that?” Matthew is the first one to ask, then looks at Karrie.
Karrie shrugs her shoulder. “I don’t think she’s thirsty anymore,” she says, and just like that, everyone starts to laugh.
THE SERIES CONTINUES WITH THIS IS LOVE!
Will Vivienne finally find love or will she run in the other direction? Find out in This Is Love!
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Epilogue One
Zoe
Nine months later
“I can’t believe it’s the last home game of the year,” Zara says from beside me as I blow bubbles into Zoey’s neck, and she giggles. I call her the mini us. With her strawberry hair in little pigtails and her big blue-green eyes taking everything in.
The crowd claps and then she follows through, shouting, “Da da da da,” which irritates Zara since she has only said mama once.
“I can’t wait to be off for the summer,” Zara says. “Two months off with no work. It will be fabulous.”
“Well, no time like the present to give me another niece or nephew,” I tell her, and she shakes her head.
“She just started sleeping through the night,” Zara says, and then Matthew comes into the room. His eyes fly around the room and land on me.
He walks over to us and then makes faces with Zoey. “Are you the cutest Zoey in the world?” he says to her, and she gives him a gummy smile with her little two teeth at the bottom showing.
“Uh, second cutest Zoey,” I tell him. “I’m number one. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Hey, I need some help. Can you come down with me?” Matthew says to me, and I get off the stool and hand Zoey to Zara. The whole box is full of family. The only one missing is Justin, who is playing his own game tonight.
“What do you need help with?” I ask him, walking down to the locker room with him.
“It’s fan appreciation night,” he tells me, and we walk into the hallway, and I see other people who are fans there. “I need you to help them get on the ice and make sure that everyone lines up properly.”
“I’m not going on the ice. That’s awkward,” I tell him. “Ask Karrie.”
“It’s too late,” he says, and the horn blows. “It’s the last game of the season, so the fans who were selected get a surprise jersey off the back of a player. No one knows who yet until they get on the ice.”
I scrunch up my nose. “They smell like ass,” I tell him. “You should at least give them a clean one.” He rolls his eyes and puts his hands in his pockets.
“Okay, you can lead the way. Go all the way to the end of the red carpet. You will be the first and last one off the ice,” he tells me, and I swear I want to kick him.
“I take it back. I don’t want to go out there,” I tell him. “My boyfriend is out there. People know,” I tell him, and they do. After he won the Stanley Cup, People magazine came out and did a story on him. He wrote the story himself about his journey, and it’s now framed and hanging in our living room. I obviously moved in with him right after he got his one-year chip. I wasn’t asked; I was just there all the time and so were my clothes. I mean, he did help by always packing an extra bag when we went over to the brownstone.
“There is no time for this. Do it for the fans,” he says and pushes me out, and I smile at the fans who look at me. “Follow her,” Matthew says, and I walk down the hallway and then out of the bench onto the ice that now has red carpet on it. I walk all the way to the end and see the team skating to the middle of the ice and holding up their sticks to thank the fans for another year.
I make my way to the edge of the carpet and then everyone lines up beside me and looks out to the glass. Two of the equipment people walk out and hands them Sharpies. The players go toward their fans, and then I look at Viktor who skates over to me. “Hey,” he says to me, taking off his helmet. His hair is all wet as he bends down to kiss me.