Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
We all laugh at that, and then Lawson is glancing toward me.
“How are things going with you, Pax?” he asks.
I shake my head. “From the way you're looking at me, Lawson, it seems like you already know.”
Nash laughs, giving me the same look Lawson is, and I roll my eyes.
“No secrets between those girls, huh?” I say playfully.
“Act like we’re not the same,” Nash says, tilting his head.
I nod. “Okay, fair,” I say. “And to answer your question, Lawson,” I continue. “Things are fucking great.”
Lawson and Nash whoop and clap, causing a small scene in the crowded locker room that has me shaking my head.
“So you two are like together together?” Lawson asks. “Because Blakely hasn't answered me when I ask.”
I swallow hard, quashing the emotions that tangle my throat. “We're not putting any labels on it,” I say and silently reiterate that fact to myself.
I know Monroe. Labels, especially when they come to relationships, are the last thing she wants to talk about.
Nash hisses, looking at me with a hint of pity that I quickly wave off.
“None of that,” I quickly say. “The last six weeks have been some of the best of my life,” I continue. “So, I don't need either of your pity.”
“Noted,” Lawson says, flashing Nash a look before returning focus on me. “So, she's still living with you. Any signs of her moving into her own place on the horizon?”
“She's not even looking.” I’m unable to suppress my grin. “Which is good because she deserves time after what she's been through.”
Nash nods. “It's cool you can give Monroe a safe place to land—”
Liam's forced laugh sounds right behind me, and I quickly whirl around. “She's still living with you? Talk about mooching off the charitable,” he snaps. He puffs his chest up like he’s preparing for a fight.
I note the move, cocking a brow at him. “Why are you getting all puffy, Liam?” I ask, Lawson and Nash laughing. “Do you actually think you're worth my time and energy to fight?”
“Oh, shit,” Lawson says from my right.
“Fuck you, Ritchford,” Liam says like he's five years old. “I just think it's funny that she's still at your place. I mean, it's pretty obvious she's using you as a rebound. I didn't think your little friendship could get more pathetic than it already is with you rushing to help her anytime she picks up the phone.” He purses his lips. “It was so cute,” he says in a baby voice. “Fucking whipped.” He shakes his head before he stalks off to the showers.
“That guy is such an asshole,” Nash says.
“Like the mean kind of asshole, not just the grumpy kind like my bestie Kiplin,” Lawson adds, making sure Clay hears him from where he sits on a bench a few spaces down.
Kiplin flips Lawson off, but he’s glaring toward where Liam just stalked off.
“We should get him kicked off the team,” Nash says.
“The love of my life does happen to know the coach,” Lawson offers, the two of them and their instant support of me making me laugh, but I wave them off.
“Unnecessary,” I say, despite the sting of his jab winding tightly in my chest. I know Monroe better than he does, but that doesn't stop me from wondering if she is using me as a rebound or a convenience.
A package of pleasure and support and a safe place to land.
I quickly decide if she is, I don't fucking care. I'm happy to be whatever she needs me to be.
“He's not worth the energy,” I force myself to continue, working around the tight emotions in my throat. “And besides, we don't have to like the players we work with,” I say, and then smirk at Lawson. “I was certain I’d hate you the minute you skated onto the ice last season.”
Lawson covers his chest dramatically as if I've stabbed him in the heart. “You're supposed to be the nice one,” he says, his tone drenched in fake sadness. “I expect that shit from Clay, but not you, never you, Pax,” he says in a singsong voice that sends us all laughing and rolling our eyes.
“Give it a rest,” Clay says as he pushes off the bench and heads toward the showers.
“I'm still invited to the party this weekend right, bestie?” Lawson calls after him.
“Yes,” Clay snaps but then flips him off again. “Unless you keep running your mouth.”
Lawson mimes locking his lips with a key, but the effect is wasted because Clay has already disappeared to the showers.
Nash and I laugh though, and I appreciate my friends’ ability to help me shake off the tension I know will explode if I keep burying it like I do, but I honestly have no other choice.
If I press the issue and ask Monroe to define anything between us, she’ll bolt and freeze me out.