Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 30715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
"The far left," she mumbles.
I carry her up the steps and then down the hall to her room. Neither of us speaks. Her little body quivers in my arms, and she sniffles periodically, still upset. I hate seeing her like this. She's so vibrant and full of life, always giving as good as she gets. It kills me that she's this upset.
Her room is an extension of her personality. Fluffy, brightly colored accent pillows line the bed and small sofa beneath the windows. Black and white photos of her family spread across the wall above her desk, which is a mess. The rest of the room is pristine, but the desk is wild.
I carry her to the bed, pushing pillows off onto the floor to lay her out in the middle of it. She stares up at me through watery eyes. "Does Jonas hate me?"
"Does Jonas…?" Ah, fuck. She thinks Theo told Jonas about us. That's why she ran. I crawl onto the bed with her, pulling her into my arms. "He doesn't know, little one. Theo didn't tell him."
She blinks wide eyes at me.
I brush tears out of her lashes. "Even if he had, your brother could never hate you. He adores you."
"I've been lying to him." Her bottom lip quivers. "I tried so hard to convince myself that I was doing it for the right reasons, but I can't convince myself because it's not true, Kellan." More tears slip down her cheeks. "Theo thinks you're an idiot for being with me, but I'm the one who's been stupid."
"Don't say that," I growl. "Don't even think it, Parker. You aren't stupid."
"I've been lying to myself," she whispers, her blue eyes locked on mine. "I said I wanted to keep it from Jonas because I didn't want to come between you guys and the Cup, but that's not why I made you agree not to tell him."
I run my hands through her hair, letting her talk.
"I was afraid if we told him and he got mad, you'd call it off." Another tear slips down her cheek. "I didn't want to lose you before I even had a chance to know you." She sniffles. "And the more I got to know you, the less I wanted to lose you. I didn't mean to fall in love with you, but you made me."
She's in love with me. Ah, goddamn. I've never heard anything sweeter.
"You aren't going to lose me, little one," I murmur, running my lips across her forehead. I kiss both of her eyelids, tasting the tears still shimmering in her lashes and then her cheeks and lips. "I'm not going anywhere. Haven't you figured it out by now?"
"Figured what out?"
"I'm crazy about you, Rebel."
"What?"
"I've been in love with you, maybe since the first time I met you."
She inhales a sharp breath, her entire body falling still. "You're in love with me?" She pushes against my shoulders, forcing me back far enough so she can see my face. The suspicious look on her face makes me smile. "Are you insane?"
"Quite possibly," I growl, dragging her back into my arms. "I love you, Parker Michaud. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
"What about Jonas?"
"Jonas isn't a problem for me, little one. He never has been. I've just been waiting for you to fall in love with me so we can be done with this hiding shit. I don't want to hide the way I feel about you from him or anyone else."
"But the Playoffs," she protests.
"Fuck the Playoffs." I drag her jersey up her body and then lift her to strip it over her head before laying her back on the bed. Her blonde hair splays across the pillows in waves, those two pink streaks framing her face. She's so fucking beautiful. "Hockey is just a game. This is life, little one. This is our future. That matters more than any trophy or championship."
"You're right. We'll tell him." She bites her lip. "But maybe after the next game so you're not on a plane together in case he's really mad."
I consider arguing and then decide there's no reason we have to tell him right this minute. A few more days won't hurt.
I pull my shirt off over my head and drop it off the side of her bed.
She isn't crying anymore, but she eyes me warily.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting you naked," I answer, slipping one hand into the waistband of her leggings. "You need to be held, but you've got far too many clothes on."
"Oh." She tries to hide it, but I see the flash of disappointment in her eyes. She wants more than skin-to-skin contact.
"I'd be inside you in a heartbeat, but I don’t think that's what you need right now, Rebel. You need to be loved."
Her expression softens. She sits up, forcing me to back off a little. I end up on my back beside her, staring up as she crawls over me.