Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Still, the fact that we live in New York gives us a sort of distance from everything else. Though we do go to Graystone Ridge all the time to visit his dad and Miley, and we drop by my mother’s.
Preston is always saying things like, “Let’s get this for June.” “June would love this!” “Doesn’t this have June’s name written all over it?”
Needless to say, they love each other too much for my liking, since that means less time for me. But I’m glad he finds a mother figure in her. Mom, on the other hand, is over the moon about having someone to talk shit with all the time.
“You’re just that annoyingly perfect on the ice,” Preston says, staring down at me. “You would’ve gotten that deal anyway. I just made it happen. But I want to make one thing clear. You would’ve never reached my level if I’d chosen hockey.”
“I’m well aware.”
“You better be. I might return to hockey to shoo them away.” He hides his face in my neck again, inhaling me. “I hate sharing you with the fangirls. Will be starting an online fight later, just to call them desperate.”
I laugh. “You still do that?”
“Of course. That’s, like, my favorite hobby. Even forced Jude to make an account and like my comments. Kane pays someone for it, and so do I, by the way. I have an army of online trolls.”
“You’re so extra.”
“And dramatic and dick-whipped, as Jude and Kane called me respectively.”
“Kane called you dick-whipped?”
“Uh-huh, all because I said he was pussy-whipped, which he is! He proposed to Deborah, and now, she’s always flashing me the ginormous ring that she needs a workout to lift, telling me, ‘You were saying no ring for me, Preston. What does this look like, then?’ Idiot is all I’m saying. Desiree even said she’d be so happy to be part of this family. My family. Can you believe it?”
“Are you really never going to call her Dahlia?”
“Nope. And neither should you, by the way.”
“You’re so petty.”
“I know, don’t you love it?”
“I do.” I drop a kiss on the top of his head. “I love everything about you.”
“Mmm, even my dramatic side?”
“Especially your dramatic side.”
“Good, because I’m in the mood to start fights with your fangirls—”
There’s a knock on the door, and I pull the sheets over us, covering our bodies as I mumble, “Come in.”
“Marcus!” Miley busts through the door. “Are you awake?”
“Go away.” Preston’s voice is muffled against my neck. “This one is the worst fangirl.”
I laugh as she pushes her golden curls behind her ear. “You promised we’d eat together, Pressie.”
“Ugh, fine,” he grumbles. “Whose idea was it to bring this menace over for the weekend?”
“Yours,” I whisper. “Because you missed her, remember?”
“The consequences of my own actions. My worst nightmare.”
I chuckle because, truly, he’s the most adorable little gremlin.
He loves fiercely, and when he does, as with Miley and his dad, he gives them everything he has and everything he doesn’t. He’s been meeting with his dad regularly over the past year. Last weekend, he invited him to come watch my game and stay the night.
Let’s say there were a lot of raised brows from Lawrence as he watched Preston fawn over me.
Jude has the same reaction when he sees Preston’s clingy nature around me. Because when he loves, he’ll never let go.
And with me, it’s more precious.
He can only sleep when I’m beside him. That’s why I take him with me, even to away games.
Once, he wanted to stay behind, and he didn’t sleep.
After that, I promised to never spend a night apart from him.
“I’ll be waiting in the kitchen,” Miley says. “Hurry up!”
“Fine, Miles of Trouble.”
She turns to leave, then stops. “Hey, Pressie?”
“What now?”
“Since I’m older, can I marry Marcus?”
He lifts his head as I laugh silently, barely containing it as my chest quakes. Preston’s expression is even funnier because he looks downright offended.
“Like hell you will. Told you he’s my boyfriend.”
“But he’s not your husband.”
“He will be one day. He can only be your brother, and that’s generous of me.”
“Okay!” She grins. “Can we have a wedding today? I’ll wear my sparkly shoes!”
“Those are ugly shoes!”
“No, they’re not!”
I’m smiling through the entire conversation.
One year ago, this man couldn’t sleep without checking the doors or being scared of falling asleep.
Now he wakes me up with his mouth and argues with an eight-year-old about weddings and ugly sparkly shoes that offend Miley greatly.
I’ll take this life. Every version of it.
After she leaves, he huffs and hits my chest. “What are you laughing at? You should reject that little shit properly.”
“Are you jealous of your eight-year-old sister?”
“I don’t share.” He chokes me with one hand. “You know that.”
“Then maybe you should give me a wedding after all.”
His grip loosens, his lips part.
“Unless you didn’t mean what you said just now? It sounded like a proposal.”