Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
And yeah, it probably has a lot to do with teamwork and trust on the ice, not my trade, but try telling that to my superstitious teammates. They’re convinced I’m New York’s good-luck charm, and hey, I’m not going to fight that kind of praise.
I’m a gay man on an NHL team, and I’m respected.
Lennon and I are excelling in all aspects of our lives, so it’s not surprising that I’m disgustingly happy. I’m so happy I feel guilty when I hang around Soren because his life is a mess right now.
Yet, Noah has managed to create this tense vibe with one simple question.
It feels like I’m on a third date and I’m being asked “Where is this going?” even though it’s Lennon and we’ve been together for three years, not three dates.
When Lennon leans in closer to me and asks if I’m ready to go to bed, I almost want to say no. Because with Noah’s taunt in the air, I get the feeling we’re headed for a long discussion about something I have no idea about.
Which makes me wonder if this is something I should have been thinking about the past three years.
We’ve spoken about the future, have maybe mentioned marriage in passing, but we’ve always said our careers are more important and that it would be a future discussion.
I haven’t really thought about it since.
When my ex, Ash, got engaged and married to my brother a year ago, my only thought was I’m happy Ash got everything he ever wanted. Lennon didn’t enter the equation or thought process.
I thought it was because I’ve been so secure in Lennon’s and my relationship and where we were that marriage didn’t need to be a part of it. Of us.
What does it say about me that I don’t want to marry my boyfriend?
“Ollie?” Lennon frowns at me.
“What?”
“I asked if you were ready to go.”
Oh. Right. That.
I nod stiffly. “Sure.”
We say goodnight to the guys, and as soon as we leave the dining hut, it’s a reflex to take Lennon’s hand.
We’re comfortable and easy.
Wow, so romantic, Ollie.
The evening Fijian breeze hits us as we walk to our side of the island. The bright moonlight glints off the calm water lapping at the shore.
Lennon shivers, and I wrap my arm around him—another reflex.
We may be comfortable and easy, but everything about us feels right.
So how can that be a bad thing?
“What are you thinking about?” Lennon asks.
Here we go.
“Thinking about how you’ll owe me twenty bucks by the time this vacation’s over,” I lie. It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about the little bet we made years ago, but I’m not thinking about that right now.
“Uh, for all the sex we’re having?” Lennon asks. “That’s pretty cheap, but I approve. Although, if things with the NHL don’t work out, you might have to up your rates when you sell your body on the street.”
See, that’s why I love him. He makes me laugh. Every. Damn. Day.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I actually mean about Jet and Soren.”
Jet and Soren have side-by-side cabins, and the second I realized that, I knew it was either brilliant or stupid.
Noah and Matt have the biggest suite which even has its own private beach at the most northern point of the island. The rest of the cabins are spread around. Damon and Maddox’s is right near ours.
Putting the two single guys together is good because they don’t have to listen to the copious amount of sex that’s going on with the couples. But it could also be stupid because I swear something happened between Jet and Soren years ago. Lennon thinks I read way too much into the fleeting glances between them.
“That bet was for something happening between them three years ago. Not now,” Lennon says.
“Uh-huh, so you totally think they’re gonna hook up.”
Lennon sighs. “I’ll miss Soren when Matt and Noah kill him.”
I laugh, but my boyfriend turns serious.
“Is that all you’re thinking about?”
Lennon reads me so well I’m not surprised he knows that’s not all, so I get it over with.
“Noah’s a dick, huh?”
Lennon pushes his glasses back up his nose. I love those glasses. Without them, Lennon’s hot, no doubt, but with them? He’s like the epitome of the nerdy-geek fantasy, and I might have a fetish.
“Oh, honey, if you’re only now working out Noah’s a dick, I’m going to start feeling bad about all the dumb jokes I make about you. It’s one thing to say it when you know it’s not true. It’s really mean if you are that slow.”
I hip-check him. “Funny, nerd.”
“What’d Noah do this time?”
I’m surprised he doesn’t automatically know, which makes me pause. Maybe Noah’s taunt only made me rethink things.
I stop walking and pull Lennon to face me. His gorgeous face is passive and giving away nothing. Guess I’m not as good at reading my boyfriend as he is at reading me.