Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“That’s my theory.” I spear a green bean. “Brienne said nearly the same thing, but again, Drake was such a dick to her, I’m sure she doesn’t feel that way anymore.”
“It’s a shame. Sounds like he needed a second chance.”
I nod as I chew. When I swallow, I sip my beer. “You need a second chance too.”
Sophie blushes and ducks her head. Her arms cross over her chest, almost defensively. “Not really. I just need to get off my ass and—”
“Don’t,” I say. Her head snaps up. “Don’t diminish your demons. They’re real and legitimate, and no one judges you for having them.”
“My employer did,” she points out.
Shrugging, I smile sheepishly. “Okay, there are those who judge you. But I don’t, and no one else’s opinion matters.”
Sophie laughs, but there’s still pain in her eyes. She’s a work in progress, but I will continue to work on her.
When I showed up on her doorstep yesterday, I had no intention of doing anything more than checking in on her. A quick visit—in and out.
Instead, I have a new friend who my gut tells me is going to remain an influential force in my life. Sophie is the one, after all, who changed the trajectory of my future to begin with. Not intentionally, of course, but her attack, when I just happened to be nearby—those events led me to be sitting here today. That’s some kind of cosmic shit, but not surprising. We shared an experience that bonds us in a way no one else will ever understand.
What is surprising is that my thoughts have strayed to areas distinctly out of the realm of friendship. Do friends acknowledge how attractive they find each other? I’m thinking not.
For right now, I’m incredibly grateful to have made this connection with Sophie. We’re strangers in a way, but in many ways, we’re not. Moving to a new city, not knowing anyone… she’s exactly what I need.
I think I’m exactly what she needs too.
CHAPTER 11
Baden
I rise from the desk in my office, ready to head to the meeting room for the inaugural gathering of this new hockey team.
Yesterday may have been the first full day on the job for the Titans’ rebuilt organization, but today is when shit gets real. Yesterday the coaches met in a conference room, looking at video, making lists and diagrams and debating.
Today, it’s meeting players, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being nervous. In fact, I’m not sure I was ever this nervous stepping onto the ice. Then again, as a goalie, I was in my element.
Here I’m like a fish out of water.
At least I had a good start to my day. My alarm went off at five thirty a.m., and after a quick shower, I tried to step quietly down the stairs. The downside of an older home is the aches and pains of age, which manifest in squeaks and groans.
Any concern I had about waking Sophie fizzled as soon as I smelled bacon.
In the kitchen, I found her at the stove, pulling thick strips of cooked bacon out of a cast-iron skillet. On the counter was a pan with some sort of egg casserole, a bowl of browned potatoes, and a plate of buttered toast.
“I absolutely regret telling you what time I was leaving this morning,” I said as I walked in.
Sophie looked up and smiled. “Good morning to you too.”
“Good morning,” I grumbled with no real irritation. I hated she went to the trouble of making me such a big breakfast.
Last night after I ate dinner, Sophie refused to let me help clean up. She insisted that I get a good night’s rest, and since she’s currently unemployed, she said she can stay up as late as she wants.
She gave me a key and the code to the alarm panel and showed me to her guest room with the promised “incredibly comfortable bed.” I slept like a baby.
“You seriously didn’t have to do this, Sophie,” I chastised, but I was already looking forward to this feast. It was a little early for me to eat, but I wasn’t going to turn it down. My best hope for the first meal of the day was a candy bar out of a vending machine at the arena. I had hoped to shop for groceries at some point, maybe stash a few boxes of protein bars for a quick grab and go.
“Coffee is freshly brewed,” she replied, tossing her chin over her shoulder at the pot on the back counter. “And I won’t do this every morning. I just wanted to get you off to a good start.”
I almost said, “Thanks, Mom,” to tease her about her awesome caretaking. But I held my tongue because Sophie in no way reminds me of my mom—or any mom at all.