Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
I step away a few seconds before the bathroom door swings open and Flip comes out. I need to watch myself. There have been a few close calls recently. Hence the reason for tonight.
“Can you make me a coffee, Rix? I’ll be ready in ten,” Flip calls as he heads for his bedroom.
I bite my tongue so I don’t call him out for his lack of fucking manners. “You’ll have to take breakfast to go.”
“You’re driving then.” His bedroom door closes behind him.
This morning Flip and I are volunteer coaching a special-needs hockey team with my brother. Brody and I have done it a bunch of times. These kids get so excited about playing, and Hemi loves the positive promotion. She gave me a bunch of team swag, including water bottles, pucks, and baseball caps. They’re already in my car.
I notice the newspaper on the counter is open to the ads section. I’m quick to squash apartment options by sending her articles about crime in the neighborhood. Truthfully, all I want is more time with her. Also, I don’t intend to stick to the plan of this thing ending when she moves out. Maybe I’ll broach that subject later tonight, when it’s just the two of us.
She finishes separating the fruit into plastic containers and heads for the coffeemaker.
“Flip can get his own coffee,” I say behind the rim of my mug. Lately it irks me how much he takes advantage of Bea. She’s not his personal fucking assistant. And she never complains.
“I’m already pouring one for myself.” She fills two travel mugs. “Can I pour you one, too?”
“Fill yours first. I’ve already had two cups.” In the weeks since she’s been living here, I’ve noticed that Bea always makes sure everyone else has what they need first. She’ll take the smaller portion and wait until we’re finished eating before she goes back for seconds.
She fills hers three quarters of the way and pulls out a travel mug for me. I cover the top with my hand. “Yours first.”
“I need room for cream and sugar. There’s enough left for you.”
We stare each other down.
She gives me a look. “Really? You want to argue about who gets the most coffee this morning?”
“Do the two of you ever stop fighting?” Flip asks.
“Occasionally.” A grin tips the corner of Bea’s mouth.
I move my hand and avert my gaze, because that expression makes me want to do dirty things. Well, I always want to do dirty things to her, but I’m getting a hard-on, which isn’t convenient with Flip in the room.
“Flip, you’ll have to doctor your java. I’ve gotta run, and I’m out tonight, so you’ll be on your own for dinner. There’s lasagna in the fridge and directions to reheat it here.” She taps the Post-it stuck to the fridge.
Flip’s eyebrow rises. “You got a date or something?”
“I’m out with work friends for dinner, and Hemi and Hammer invited me over later. Depends on how late dinner goes, though.” She tucks her phone in her purse and slides her feet into her shoes. Her cheeks flush pink and the tips of her ears turn red with the lie.
“Right. Okay. That’s great that you’re making friends at work.” Flip lifts his head. “You’re liking the job, then?”
“Yeah. It’s good. You guys have a good day.” She heads for the door.
“Your coffee.” I hold it out to her.
“Right. Thanks.” Our fingers brush, and our eyes meet for a second. If Flip wasn’t here, I would kiss her. Instead, I watch her walk out the door.
Tonight, she’s all mine. No interruptions, no being quiet, no her sneaking back up to the loft, no feeling guilty that we’re lying to Flip. Or less feeling guilty. It’s getting harder to remember not to touch her when he’s around.
“We should go, too.” I put the lid on my travel mug and grab my car keys.
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks for agreeing to come with me today,” I say once we’re on the way to the arena.
“No problem. It’ll win me points with Hemi.” He digs into the fruit and yogurt parfait Bea made this morning. It’s got all his favorite fruits, high-protein yogurt, and a separate container of granola and nuts to preserve the crunch. “How are you feeling about our next exhibition game?”
I tap the wheel. “Okay. I get why Coach wants to start Hollis on the first line.”
“You know it has nothing to do with you not being the better player, right? They want to be careful with Hollis this season and playing him on first line when he’s fresh is better for him,” Flip says.
“I know. It’s a rough transition from last year. I’m still hoping I’ll be on the starting line for the opening game of the season.”
“You will,” Flip assures me.
I want to believe he’s right, but I don’t know where I stand. Hollis has been visiting Coach regularly. Lots of private meetings. He’s upped his PT to make sure he’s in good condition for the start of the season. It’s tough not to worry about where my value to the team will fall. If Hollis makes a comeback, will I slide down the ranks again? Was last year the highlight of my career?