Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I notice a few of my old teachers, who were young when I went to Thistlebrook Prep, on the rink like they’re playing game seven of the play-offs. I catch a few of their gazes, and Lord, I hope they don’t want to talk to me.
“I thought we were here for the Belles?” I ask with a sharp look at Kitty.
“They’re next.”
“You made it seem like we were late.”
She flashes me a grin, and I roll my eyes. She ignores me with ease as we head to the table she, Bea, Hazel and Maggie have that sits right behind the goal that the home team shoots on twice. They’ve had this table for as long as Bea has sponsored her teams. She has a team in all the leagues, and she doesn’t play around. She recruits people from other towns, and she’ll steal players from other teams like she’s a manager in the NHL. She’s insane but a damn good time.
When she sees us, she hops up off her chair, way too nimble for someone her age, before she wraps her arms around me, her pink hair getting caught in my lashes. I try to get it out as she kisses my cheek. “Fable, darling. How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
She exhales hard. “Would be better if someone’s grandpa and husband weren’t throwing curve balls.”
“Who you telling?” Kitty mutters, shaking her head. “Is he okay?”
Bea exhales hard. “He’s something.” She pats my face. “I know you don’t want to be here. I’m sorry.”
“But thank you,” Hazel adds then, kissing my cheek. “It means a lot to us that you didn’t just leave when you could. Even if Jett was an ass.”
Maggie kisses my cheek, squeezing my hands. “I know he seems like a bit of a jerk, but he really isn’t. He’s such a good boy.”
He threw a fit like a little boy, that’s for sure, but I keep that to myself. “As badly as I don’t want to be here, I can’t leave this chick.” I hook a thumb toward Kitty. “Legally or figuratively.”
I want to say that I’m staying for Kitty, but the truth is, I can’t take anything from Jett. The pure distress in his eyes when Jami said everything would be given to my dad left me breathless. I felt like my soul would be ripped from my body if I allowed that to happen. I couldn’t hurt Jett like that. I didn’t have to be here to know that the Ice Thistle is what it is because of Jett. I can’t take that from him.
But I can help him make it better.
If he lets me.
My comment has them all laughing as they settle in their seats. Since I don’t have a chair at this table, I go get one, something I’ve been doing my whole life. Always trying to fit in where I don’t belong. I watch as they all unload their cross-stitching rings and then their thread. I lean on my elbows as the Rink Rulers and Blades of Knowledge shake hands to signal the end of the game.
Bea leans into Kitty. “Williams, the goalie from Penalty Box Prophets, hurt his groin, so he’s out for the next game.”
My sweet, God-loving grandmother pumps her fist. “Good. We should win tonight, and then it’ll be us and the Pastry Puckers for the first round, right?”
Bea grins widely. “Yup, we should make it to the finals pretty easily, but those Prophets will be a problem.”
I sigh deeply, leaning on my hand as I finger her thread, bored. Maybe I should pick up cross-stitching. “You really shouldn’t bet against the good Lord.”
They both wave me off. “They’re cheating. Drinking holy water in the locker rooms or something.”
Hazel snickers as Maggie rolls her eyes. Though, she does lean in, her voice low. “I heard Brother Eric was sleeping around with Sister Milly again.” She taps her nose, her eyes all-knowing. “She went over to drop off some brownies and didn’t leave for three hours.”
Bea clucks her tongue as she lifts her cooler up onto the table. “She must have been touched by God for how she’s getting him between her legs with those dry-ass brownies.”
“The brownies were trash, so he went for her cookie,” Kitty snickers, and I can’t help but snort at that. The women cackle, and I can only laugh along.
These four are a mess.
Bea hands everyone a bottle of Michelob Ultra, and I make a face. She winks at me. “We gotta keep our figures, darling.”
I can’t with these women. I nurse my beer as the Beer League Belles and the Pucklic Officials hit the ice. I notice that a bunch of guys I went to school with are out there, and of course, they’re playing for the town council’s team. Public figures work together and play together in this town. As much as I tell myself not to, I seek out Jett. A habit that not even twenty years away from him can break.