Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I crack an eye open.
Sully has his eyes closed and head back, too, done lecturing and hovering or whatever it is he’s doing. Matchmaking? Him of all people…
The smile touches my lips again, and I sink lower, submerged up to my mouth, and I blow bubbles. Rise again so I’m in a sitting position on the bench and let my body relax, relishing these next moments of peace.
Steam rises around me, creating the perfect—
“Ahhh,” my roommate sighs. “Nothing like soaking in some warm water after a tough practice.”
That’s true, but it would be nice if I were soaking by myself so I could gather my own thoughts instead of listening to his.
“You’re really chatty today. Normally, you don’t give a shit about what anyone else has going on.” It’s true. He rarely gets involved and rarely shares his opinion, and suddenly he’s Dr. Phil, trying to psychoanalyze me and give me relationship advice. It’s so unlike him. “Everything alright?”
Sully splashes his fingers through the water. “Yeah, I guess. Just been thinking about how being an athlete affects relationships.”
“How do you mean?”
He leans his head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Well, you know how demanding our schedules can be. It's tough to find the time and energy to invest in a relationship when you're constantly training and traveling. Maybe that’s what my issue has always been.”
His issue? I thought his issue was that he liked banging different types of women and didn’t want to be tied down. Still, I can’t argue with his logic that being an athlete doesn’t make things easy.
“It's definitely a challenge. But I suppose it's all about finding someone who understands and supports you.” At least, that’s what my mom has always told me, hoping that I would start dating and assuming the reason I wasn’t was sports.
“Easier said than done. Sometimes it feels like hockey gets in the way of forming meaningful connections with people.”
I raise my head, looking at him.
Sometimes it feels like hockey gets in the way of forming meaningful connections with people…
Dude. Who is this guy? “Who are you, and what have you done to my roommate Sully, the guy who sleeps around and leaves a trail of tears in his wake.”
He chuckles. “I do not leave a trail of tears in my wake, and I do not sleep around.” His hands skims the water line. “Case in point, I took Lizzy out on an actual date and didn’t make any moves on her.”
Yeah. Because she set off a flare indicating she wasn’t at all interested, giant red flags waving every which way.
I grunt in response, not wanting to bring Lizzy’s name into this again, worried it’ll launch another interrogation about my feelings.
“Does this mean you want to like, date the same person, and, gee, I don’t know—settle down?”
He seems to shudder in his seat. “God, no. I didn’t say anything about that. The point I’m trying to make is that the whole hockey thing is a blessing and a curse.”
“Eh.” I suppose. Maybe. “The right person will come along who appreciates the sacrifice.”
“Maybe.” He pauses. “Have you ever had your heart broken?”
“No.”
I don’t even have to hesitate to answer.
He nods. “I have.”
This is news to me. “When?”
“Would I sound like an idiot if I said high school?”
“No.”
“It was high school, and I thought I was in love, you know? It was one of those relationships where we didn’t use names. We said babe and baby and sweetie, and I was such a fucking idiot.”
“Why were you an idiot?”
“’Cause. The whole time, I thought things were great. As long as I was cool and popular and the hottest motherfucker on the ice, she wouldn’t go behind my back and talk to other guys. I thought I was exempt from all that. Nothing could touch me.”
Sully spreads his arms out, resting them on the back of the hot tub.
“What a naive fucker I was.” He shrugs, bubbles up to his collarbone. “My shit didn’t stink. My girlfriend wouldn’t cheat. I had the world by the ass and wasn’t paying attention to a single thing that was going on unless it was on the ice.”
Invincible.
I know the feeling; the ice will do that to you.
“So what happened?” This is the most he and I have ever talked, and my brain is reeling from the information dump he’s throwing my way.
Freaking reeling.
“Her name was Nora, and I guess every time she would wait for me outside the locker room, she would talk to the water boy—some underclassman not a single person noticed. Nice dude, obviously.”
“Apparently, he was really nice.”
Sully silences my stupid quip with a narrowed gaze. “Ha ha.”
“Sorry. You were saying?”
“They would talk, and she loved his jokes, and he was smart and good at math. Carter is his name. So he started tutoring her one or two nights a week and blah blah they started sneaking around. He was fucking terrified I’d find out—obviously.”