Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
I’ll set some very clear boundaries and then forget this ever happened. Or at least try to. But Roman is standing by the elevator when I step into the hall. Fuck.
“Oh hey, I thought you were already at the Pancake House,” I say.
“I spilled coffee on my shirt earlier, so I came up to change first.” His gaze drops to the gift bag in my hand. “What’s that?”
“Uh…it’s, uh…for Peggy.” Double fuck. Why didn’t I lie? “A gift for taking care of Postie and Malone.” I thumb over my shoulder and reach for my door. “I’ll drop it off at her place later.”
“Nah. Don’t do that. Bring it with. She’s meeting us there.” The elevator doors slide open, and he covers the sensor, waiting for me to join him.
It’ll raise more questions if I don’t bring it along, so I reluctantly follow. “How was your meeting with Coach?” I ask as he presses the button for the lobby.
“Good. They’re assessing options for backup goalies next year, preparing for the inevitable, you know?”
“How do you feel about that?” I wouldn’t love it, but goalies take a lot of training.
“I’ve had a good run, and there are other options to explore once I’m off the ice,” he replies.
I just nod.
“I know you’ve got some time, but sportscasting would be a nice option for a good-looking guy like yourself,” Roman says.
“I’m not sure my personality would be the right fit,” I grumble.
Roman is in a much different headspace than I am about retirement. He’s the oldest player in the league, and he’s had a solid career and no serious injuries with one year left on his contract.
I, however, busted my ass after my knee injury last year so I could be back on the ice this season. Unlike Roman, who’s pushing forty, I’m only thirty-three, and I’m having a great comeback season. If I can keep my stats where they are, Toronto could extend my contract for a couple more years.
We reach the lobby and step outside into the cold winter afternoon. It’s mid-January, and snow dusts the sidewalk. Our breath puffs out in foggy bursts that disappear like ghosts. We cross the street to the diner. The familiar, comforting scent of fresh bacon and buttery pancakes makes my mouth water as we enter.
My stomach lurches as I scan the tables and spot Peggy, sitting at a four top. She’s furiously typing on her phone, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She seems stressed. And I’m positive the contents of the bag I’m holding are the reason. I can relate. I squash the images that keep popping into my head. I know better than to want her.
I wish I’d left the bag at home, but I can’t undo my stupidity. Roman would probably rip my head off if he knew what was inside and where it had been used. And rightly so, as I’m more than a decade Peggy’s senior and she’s my best friend’s daughter.
Roman takes the seat across from Peggy, and I drop into the spot beside him.
Peggy’s eyes bounce between me and Roman. Her cheeks flush, and a constipated grin forms—like she’s trying to be friendly, but someone just dropped a green-fog fart. “Hey. Hi. How was the trip home?”
“Good. We got ahead of the storm. Looks like it’ll mostly miss us here.” Roman shrugs out of his jacket.
“I’m glad you didn’t get stuck. I would have worried.” Her gaze darts my way for a split second. Her cheeks burst with color again, and she tugs at the neck of her hoodie. It boasts the name of her university.
“Me, too,” Roman says.
Rainbow, who started working here a few weeks ago, stops to greet us. Her hair matches her name. She presses her hand to her chest. “Oh, isn’t this so sweet! I love that your dads take you out,” she says to Peggy.
“We’re just friends,” I mutter.
“Of course.” She winks. “What can I get you boys to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
We order drinks and food, and Rainbow flounces off.
“How was the first week of classes?” Roman asks.
“Oh, it was good.” Peggy’s voice is pitchy, and she keeps wringing her hands. “I like my courses.”
“Are you sure? They’re not too stressful? I know how much you loved working with Hemi on the internship last semester. I’m sure it’s a shift being back in the classroom full time.”
Peggy hides her hands under the table. “Oh yeah, it is. But I have a few friends in my classes. Plus, I’m the lead on the gala for my Event Management project. Hemi’s been great about letting me take it over. Just one more semester and I’m done.”
“I can’t believe my baby girl will be a university graduate in a matter of months.” Roman beams with pride.
“I’ll also be twenty-one in a few months, Dad.” Her eyes slide to me, and she bites her fingernail, then checks her phone again. She’s jumpy as shit.