Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“That’s a great idea,” Kylie says.
“Do you think Kirby and Knox could ask some of the team to come out and help?” I take out my phone to start taking notes. “Jaxon for sure will be in.”
I pull up his number and call him, and he answers it after one ring. “Yeah,” he says, and I can tell he’s not really in a good mood.
“Hey, it’s your favorite sister,” I announce, and he groans.
“You mean it’s the sister who always calls me when she wants something.”
“Same thing,” I say. “Anyway, how down would you to be helping the community build a playground? Keep in mind these people don’t have a lot, and this playground is to help the kids. Unlike your child, who has a state-of-the-art playroom inside and outside.” He groans. “And these kids don’t even have food some days.”
“Laying it on a little thick there,” he accuses.
“It’s for the children,” I hiss. “I’ve already got you down on the list. Do you think you can bring a couple of your friends?”
“Like, ‘hey, guys, let’s go on a playdate,’ and I take them to do physical labor?”
“Correct. Anyway, you sound super busy. So I’ll let you go now.”
He doesn’t even say goodbye, he just hangs up. “Well, he’s not a happy camper, but he’s in.”
“They lost their hockey game six to two,” Lexi reports. “It was not a good night.”
“Yikes,” I say and look out the window. My mind suddenly goes to Zane and how he’s feeling.
“They have another game tonight in Philly, and they are probably going to lose that one,” Kylie adds.
“I mean, it’s a fifty-fifty chance,” I counter, and she looks over at me.
“I’m just putting it out there in the universe,” I say and then hold up both hands, crossing my fingers. “Please let them win.”
We get back to the office, finish up the workday, and I head home. For the first time in, I think forever, I sit and turn on the hockey game. It’s not like I haven’t seen them play this year. I go to the games, but I haven’t turned on a hockey game on my television when I’m by myself. I used to sometimes watch the game when I was living at home with my dad, but that was the extent of it.
I curl up on the couch with my feet under me as I listen to the broadcaster. “This is a very big game for them,” he states. “Right now, they are two and five and we have to say, that is the worst start record ever.” I get a bit angry as he continues talking, “All I know is Coach Z has his hands full tonight, and from when he spoke to the media this morning, his team has a lot of bumps in the road.”
The television goes to a press conference that must have been this morning. “We have a great group of guys on the ice. Skillful players. It’s finding out what skill goes with the other players’ skills,” he says. I smirk when I realize he didn’t even fucking smile, knowing how brightly he smiles when he’s with me.
I watch the game; by the end of the second period it’s three to zero, and not for us. Zane looks like he’s about to burst out of his suit as another player takes a penalty. He looks up at the Jumbotron to see the play and he just shakes his head. I watch the whole game and they end up losing four to one, and my stomach sinks for him.
I think about texting him and then close my eyes and do it before I change my mind.
Me:
Good game.
I think about sending it, and then quickly erase it. I think about how angry Jaxon used to get after he lost a game, and my father would tell him he had a good game.
Instead, I send him a text that says.
Me:
Thinking about you.
I send it and get up off the couch, looking outside and seeing that it’s almost seven thirty. I pop one of those precooked meals in the oven that Jaxon gave me since he would be out of town. I head to the shower, washing my hair and then put a face mask on. Sliding on my plush terry robe, I head to the kitchen when my phone rings. I think it will be either Ariella, Lexi, or Kylie, since they are basically the only ones who actually call me since I’ve moved out west. I’m shocked when I see Zane’s name on my screen.
My heart picks up a beat when I press the green button. “Well, hello there,” I say, putting the phone on speaker while I grab my food out of the oven.
“Hey,” he replies, and his voice sounds resigned, “got your text.”
“That’s how texting works these days. You send it out and, boom, it arrives at the other person’s phone. Technology, man, it’s a strange thing.” He chuckles. “How’s it going?’ I ask him softly and he sighs deeply.