Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
His forehead scrunches in confusion, but he nods.
Then I’m out of there and heading for the spectator exit. When Jasper appears, wearing that tweed jacket that’s starting to grow on me, I cut him off.
“Are you lost? Take a wrong turn somewhere?” I smirk.
“I thought it was the library,” he deadpans.
“You came to a hockey game.”
“I had to see what was so important about that extra credit.”
“This isn’t our first home game since then.”
“What can I say? You’re a bad influence.”
“One broken enemy’s nose and you have bloodlust for the sport.”
He snorts. “I wouldn’t go that far, especially considering I barely watched any of the game.”
“Why’s that?”
Jasper glances around as people pass us, but from the outside, it would look like a professor and coach chatting. Like we’re friends.
He steps closer. “Because all my attention was on a certain coach. You’re so expressive. From the concern line that appears above your brow when the other team gets close to the net to the elation that spreads across your face when one of your players scores. You’re twice as glowy when it’s your brother who’s the one to do it.”
“You know, hockey is a lot more fun if you watch the ice.”
Jasper purses his lips. “Nah. I like my way better.”
“Careful there, Professor. Now it sounds like you’re the one who’s flirting.”
“Told you. Bad influence. Lucky you don’t have the time to hang out. Next I might …” He pretends to gag. “Pick up a hockey stick.” He puts his hand to his mouth.
“I’ll get you in a pair of skates one day. I promise you that.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“How so?”
“Because I assume the only way that’s going to end is with broken legs. Therefore, you threatened to break my legs.”
I start to back away. “Who knew math professors were so dramatic? I should get back to the team.”
“Great win tonight. Go Mountain Lions!” He throws his arms up in mock cheer.
“That physically hurt you to do that, didn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
I spin on my heel and charge back to the locker room with the widest smile on my face.
As much as I try, I can’t get a certain tweed-wearing math professor out of my head. Honestly, I’m probably not trying that hard. Jasper has the ability to give a piece of me back that I haven’t had in a really long time.
He somehow lets me be my old self—the shameless flirt without a million different worries running through my head at any given moment. When we were together, he quieted that stressed-out voice in my head.
He’s an escape.
And right now, I really want to escape. The twins, Bennett and Emmett, are getting on my last nerve.
I’ve only been home from practice for an hour, and my stress levels are at an eleven. Out of five.
I storm into the living room, where the boys are yelling and fighting over the Xbox. “Hand it over. Neither of you get it now.”
“Weesssst,” one of them complains. I can’t even tell which one he is.
It’s my biggest fail as their guardian yet. I swear I get it right, and then the next day they’ve somehow swapped personalities, and I’m confused again.
Asher says it’s easy to tell—that Emmett is “the quiet one.” If you ask me, they’re both ten times louder than any tiny human should be. I love them to death, and I would take a bullet for either one of them, but fuck, they can be annoying. The best of frenemies. Constantly fighting but will have each other’s back always.
“Hand. It. Over,” I say through gritted teeth. “Go do your homework.”
“It’s his fault.” Okay, I know that pout.
“I don’t want to hear it, Ben. Just … I’m trying to cook dinner, and—”
“Uh, yeah,” Rhys says behind me, “you might want to check on that.”
As if on cue, the kitchen smoke alarm is getting its daily workout.
“You couldn’t switch it off?” I snap.
Why is everything against me today? Okay, more like, why is everything against me every day?
“By the way, he’s Emmett!” Ben calls as I rush back into the kitchen.
Kill. Me. Now.
I should’ve got Mrs. Peterson to cook tonight, but I feel guilty when I ask her. I’d ask Asher, but he didn’t come home from practice, and I have no idea where he went. That’s not the point though. I need to be able to do this on my own eventually. In three years, Asher will be gone. There’s only so long he can postpone his professional career before the world of hockey forgets about him.
There are another nine years before the twins are eighteen. Hazel’s eleven and already got a jump start on those disastrous drama-filled teenage years. Which reminds me, I need to check in with her and make sure nothing else has happened with the girls at school. Rhys is like a mini-Asher sometimes with talking back and a shitty attitude. Zoe … I ask too much of her because she’s the reliable one, but she’s fifteen and needs a chance to enjoy that. I need to stop depending on other people and suck it up. This is my life now. All of this is on my shoulders, and I always feel right on the edge of messing it all up.