Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
This doesn’t satisfy the kid, who purses his lips. “She should have.”
I agree.
And I’d deserve any shit my parents gave me.
Another skinny arm goes in the air. “I have a card that says ‘stupid’ on it. Should I hold that up, too?”
Garrett steps forward, hands up. “Little ladies and tiny bros, you are all getting way too carried away. Stick to the plan,” he tells the kids. “Chill.”
I sigh. “We’ve already established that I was a dummy, okay? We are not debating that. And Jules, I know you forgive me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take for granted that I was a jackass.” I pause, glancing into all their tiny faces, and at their chaperones, somehow waiting for a card with the word JACKASS to pop into the air, and breathe a sigh of relief when it doesn’t. “I wake up every morning thankful you’re in my life. You make it better—and I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to make yours better, too.”
THE KISSES WERE REAL!
Juliette is laughing, tears of happiness shining in her beautiful blue eyes, and the sight of her smile shakes loose the knots inside my chest.
“I brought you here, with all these Ice Wolves fans as my witnesses, to spill my guts out.” Setting the book aside, I stand, ignoring the violent crack in my knees and the chair’s relieved squeak beneath my ass. “I can’t redo the beginning—but I can promise you the rest of it.”
You could hear a pin drop in this room. A small crowd of Wolves staff stand at the glass in the corridor, along with several other players, watching with Dorian Meier, as I do my best to entertain a room full of impatient, wiggling children who can’t resist moving all over the place.
I am boring most of them to tears.
The have ants in their pants, several of them stand for a better view.
“Babe,” I say to Juliette. “I promise to tell you the truth even when it makes me look like a giant asshole.”
She laughs again as a blue card lifts, covered in crudely drawn hearts with an insane amount of glitter: HE LOVES YOU A LOT.
I walk over and take her hands. “I love you—a shit-ton.”
A child gasps at my profanity.
Several teachers cough at the same time a kid with narrowed eyes vows, “I’m telling my mom you said that.”
“What’s a shit-ton?” someone else demands to know.
I ignore them all. “Not sure how it’s possible to love someone this much in such a short amount of time, but I do. I’m so sorry for what an ass I was and wanted my little friends to hear it. If Bandit the bear and I had a thousand chances to go back in time and do things differently, we’d both choose you every single time.”
I love her so damn much.
She glances around at the tiny chairs, the handmade signs, and the children watching us with open interest, clearly hanging on her every word, waiting for her to say something back.
“Y-you love me?”
“I do.”
Juliette is positively glowing. “Since when?”
I slide my hands around her waist. “I loved you the second you ordered that milkshake on our first official date, even if I was too busy acting like a complete freaking idiot to realize it.”
Her brows raise. “That soon?”
Yes, that soon. “So now you don’t have to wonder.”
Her lips part, but before she can respond several of the girls in the room release a collective, “aww.”
More cue cards rise.
KISS HER!
KISS HER!
“Did you see that?” I drag the tip of my nose along the sensitive skin below her ear. “The crowd demands we kiss.”
She glances at them. “They’re a very bossy audience.”
“Obviously,” I scoff. “Wolves fans take romance seriously.”
When I press a kiss to her jawline, the room erupts into a fit of shrieks and giggles as if I had my tongue jammed halfway down her throat—which I fully intend to do later, in private.
“This may be the least dignified moment of my life,” I murmur. “I feel like these beady little eyes are all judging me.”
She laughs. “I mean, we are at work. This has to be breaking several policies.”
Probably.
Don’t give a crap though.
I give zero fucks when it comes to Juliette and her happiness.
Most of the kids are covering their eyes—kisses are so fucking gross when you’re six—but peeking through their fingers. I lower my mouth and brush it against Juliette’s soft, pouty lips.
I love her mouth.
I love her smile.
Her voice.
Her laugh.
Her cookies…
“I love you, Aaron.” Juliette rises on her toes and kisses me back, soft hand cupping my jaw as she gazes up at me through wide, blue eyes. “You are so sweet for doing this. My heart is so full.”
Her heart is so full.
I have easily gotten used to the way she spins words, basking in them when my moods are sour, usually after a loss.