Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
If I ask about it, she just says she misses me is all.
Same.
How did meeting her and one month flip my world inside out and upside down? I miss her so fucking much that I swear I can still feel her in my bed next to me, only to reach over and find it empty. Her laughter follows me down the hallway. When I turn back, ready to pull her into my arms, she’s not there. And sometimes I sit out on the patio just because I know we’re sharing the same fresh air.
I drop my head and wrap my arms over it.
“Daniel?” she says, a wisp of a voice calling my name. “Thank you.”
I fall back on the couch and stare at the TV with playbacks of the week on the large screen. “Tomorrow at this time, you’ll have everything you ever wanted, Sunshine.”
“Everything I ever wanted.” The giggle I expect doesn’t come, not talking a million miles an hour about nothing and everything that crosses her mind. No smile is heard in her words.
Melancholy is choking this relationship to death, and the distance is harder to manage than I thought. There’s no draw to other women. There’s no draw to anything. Even hockey isn’t as entertaining when we’re apart, and it’s not something we did together.
“Are you ready to take on big money corporations tomorrow?”
That earned me the lightest of laughs. “As ready as I can be. These past few weeks, I’ve done a ton of research. I’m hoping the extra mile of protecting our town, and that land, stewarding it for growth in the right way, will win her over. Did I tell you it’s a blind bid?”
“What does that mean? You have to submit without knowing what the other guy’s offer is?”
“Yep. She claims it makes you put in your best offer. So maybe preserving the history of the area will tip the bid in my direction if I’m under.”
“She’s a fool if she doesn’t sell it to you. Fuck.” I sit up, too anxious watching these players to kick back.
“What?”
“Playbacks for the training.”
“Oh . . . I should let you go so you can watch without interruption.”
“Hey Summer, you’re not interrupting. I don’t have much going on or to say when we talk at night lately because I’m not doing anything you’d find interesting.”
“I find everything you do interesting, but you don’t seem to want to share anymore.”
She knows how to make a guy feel good. “Hearing your voice gets me through the night and another day knowing I get to hear you again the next.”
“I feel the same way. I’m a ghost in my life haunting where I kiss you or we made love, when you smacked my ass, or fed me hot dogs on the big deck. Everything is a memory instead of living life like we used to. I hate it.”
Her pout at the end leaves me smiling. “I hate it too.” Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I try to ease into the next conversation, knowing it won’t be getting better anytime soon. “We need to figure this out. Once I’m on the road . . .”
“I know we need to talk about it, but can we do that when we’re together instead of however many hours we’re apart?”
I can’t fully follow her line of reasoning, but I’d do anything for her, including saying yes if it will make her feel better. “We can talk about it another time. Together.”
“Daniel?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I hope you also get everything you want. Good luck tomorrow.”
Nodding to an apartment that doesn’t have her scent on the sheets anymore or her dress on the floor of the entry, only her absence from my arms, I swallow. “Good luck tomorrow. I love you, Summer.”
Summer is with me.
The signs are everywhere this morning as I make my way to The Breakaways’ franchise offices. Blue in the sky and on a dress displayed in a store window. Golden sunshine strikes my eyes when I round the corner. A sign above a swimsuit shop that reads “Are you ready for Summer Season?”
So fucking ready.
I meet the attorneys in the lobby, and we ride the elevators up together. We’re led down the hall to the large conference room. The assistant opens the door, and announces, “Mr. Sutton is here for the meeting.”
As soon as I’m seated, the door is closed, and we begin the negotiations.
CHAPTER 29
SUMMER
“Breatheeee, Summer.” I exhale long and slowly, manifesting my way into winning today. “You will win this bid. You will own a cottage. All your work will pay off.”
“The Maverick of Hockey scores!” . . . “He just locked down league MVP, Josh.” . . .
“Ohmmmm,” I hum with pinched fingers, meditating to the sound of Daniel winning four years ago blaring from my computer.