Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
His brown eyes stare up at me.
Our breaths mingle.
Our chests rise and fall in sync.
I want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him, but doing that and finding a way to explain how that’ll teach Jet to skate will take some thought.
A loud whistle echoes through the empty rink.
Jet’s skate slams into mine as he turns toward the noise.
I hold on to him tighter.
“We doing this or what?” Ollie asks from the other side of the rink.
“Yeah, I’m definitely going to sit this one out,” Jet says.
“Figured.” I pull him to the gate so he can go sit in the stands and watch.
Matt decides to sit out too.
“What, they don’t have ice skating in Tennessee?” Ollie taunts.
Jet and Matt share a look that screams childhood issues. I know of some of them from what Matt has said, but to say the least, their parents weren’t the “let’s take the kids skating” type of parents.
We put on the pads, which are half falling apart, and take the hockey sticks, which are light and flimsy. But beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m just happy to be back on the ice again.
“How are we doing this?” I ask.
“All of us against you and Ollie,” Damon says.
I count. “Six on two?”
“I’ve seen that porno,” Talon says.
“You’ve probably lived that porno,” Noah points out.
Talon and Miller smile.
They huddle in a group, but all the planning in the world won’t help them.
They’re not bad on skates, but chasing a puck? It’s laugh-worthy. Ollie and I basically don’t even have to try.
We could sit in the stands and watch these guys fall over themselves on their own.
Instead, we skate circles around them.
“Ready to admit defeat?” Ollie asks.
“Never,” Talon yells and then trips over his skates and hits the ice hard.
“Okay, yeah,” Damon says. “Before you guys break any of my players.”
“Hey, we didn’t even touch you,” I argue.
“We didn’t have to.” Ollie skates up to me and throws his arm around my shoulder. Then he starts singing “We Are the Champions” at the top of his lungs. Badly.
“All right,” Damon says. “How about you two play against each other?”
Fun fact: give an athlete an opportunity to kick ass, it’s impossible to turn down.
I nudge Ollie. “Oh, it’s on.”
The sun is setting, reflecting off the water on the boat ride home, the cool breeze is kicking in again, but the mocking and gloating don’t stop.
“Tomorrow, you two fuckers have to play football,” Talon says and rubs his shoulder where he fell.
Ollie doesn’t miss a beat before saying, “Bring it.”
“Why are you so smug?” Jet asks. “You got beat by an old man.”
“Hey,” I protest. “He got beaten by the better player, thank you very much.”
“Sure thing, Big Daddy,” Maddox says.
“No. That is not becoming a thing.”
“Would you rather still be called Canada?” Maddox asks.
Jet gasps. “Canadian Big Daddy.”
I can’t even be mad. He’s too adorable as he blinks at me and pulls that innocent face I can’t resist.
If only I could put my arm around his shoulders and pull him close to me.
“I have a question,” Maddox says. “When you’re talking, how do you decide if you finish the sentence with an eh or an ohhh!”
“First, your Canadian and New Jersey accents are still appalling. Two, SNL isn’t an accurate depiction of how we talk in New Jersey. And three, the answer is always eh … eh?”
Maddox laughs hard, but he’s the only one. Hey, it’s entertaining to him, so he can have at it. If I can’t laugh at myself with him, then I’m taking life too seriously.
Joni pulls the boat up to the dock back at our island. “Come on, Canadian Big Daddy.”
“You guys have even got Joni saying it now? I hate you all.”
But I’m lying. Outside of being with Jet, today’s been the best time I’ve had on this vacation so far.
Walking up the small pontoon and beach, I’m too busy looking back at Maddox who’s still talking shit that I don’t see Jet stopped in front of me.
I run into the back of him, and his body is stiff.
The rest of the guys notice and pull up short.
Standing on the pathway up ahead, there’s a tall guy in a business shirt and pants. Shades on, hands in his pockets, intimidating posture. Graying hair glints in the fading sun.
“Who’s—” I go to ask but am cut off by Matt.
“Is that the ex-boyfriend?”
Jet sighs. “Worse. It’s my manager, Luce.”
Chapter Sixteen
JET
“You’re a long way from home.” I feign my usual Jet-ness in front of everyone.
I have no idea why Luce is here, but I know it can’t be good. He knows everything about me and Harley and orchestrated canceling our part of the tour. If he’s here, it can only mean one thing.
Something’s happened.
Luce’s usual casual but firm toughness is missing and is replaced by fury. “You had one job, Jay. Lay low and stay out of the spotlight. Now there’s video of you in a gay bar, singing an Eleven song, for crying out loud—”