Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
I was toying with him.
He knew it. I knew it. I caught his grin. He was loving this too.
My legs were tingling. There was a pull in my gut. My foot was aching, needing more and more. Harder. Faster.
I played with Zeke, easy keep-away game until the ache was too much for me to ignore. The grass wasn’t long enough. There was space on the side of Aspen’s house and kicking the ball farther, I pushed off. I left Zeke in my trail, handling the ball between myself. I moved it up and around, jumping, spinning. I stopped it, the back of my heels imprisoning it and I flipped it up and over to the front of me. I loved doing that. I caught it in the crook of my calf and knee, then tossing it to the grass and moving it forward once more.
Jesus.
I got lost, playing, pushing myself.
Challenging myself.
I forgot time.
This was how it was with soccer. I needed a worthy adversary. I needed to let out my pent-up tension. I needed to be forced away from it. I needed to go back in, stealing it, knowing that victory. Relishing that victory.
I was salivating all over again.
Yeah. I was ready for soccer to come back. Only another month and I’d have to start training, then another month after that and I’d be on the field again. I couldn’t wait.
I stopped, sweat pouring down me, and a burst of applause came from the sidelines.
Aspen and Zeke were both there.
Zeke was wearing that knowing smug look. Aspen’s eyes were big, dazed, and her lips had parted. I recognized the look. I was feeling it too, and there was a whole other urge I had to fight off because I really wanted to grab her, tell Zeke to piss off, and drag my girl upstairs.
“Long time coming, man.”
I grunted, reaching out and Zeke hit his fist to mine.
Yeah. Long time coming.
“I didn’t know you played soccer.”
I shrugged. “I’m kinda on break, so I haven’t talked much about it.”
She frowned a little. I saw the questions, but then she nodded to me.
We headed back, my hand slipping into Aspen’s.
As if there’d been a conversation about it, both Zeke and Aspen didn’t bring up soccer again. Instead, we showed Zeke the movie room and he was stoked. (His word.)
There was more I hadn’t known about.
Aspen showed us the tricked-out basement. There was an even larger theater room down there, which her parents used for their work. She’d mentioned that before, but it was cool to see it.
There was also a gaming room, which had a pool table, air hockey, table football, and a basketball-shooting game. Benny and Miss Sandy kept bringing down snacks and drinks, so we hung out in there most of the day. Zeke and I had reverted to being little boys, and we were in game heaven. Aspen played too, laughing at us, and I couldn’t help myself. Any excuse to touch her, and I took it.
When Zeke went to the bathroom, I had her pinned in the far corner in a heartbeat. She moaned, and we were both panting when Zeke returned and cleared his throat. “Dude.”
I flashed him a grin, raking my hand through my hair.
He rolled his eyes and challenged Aspen to an air hockey game.
Before they began, he made a point of telling me to go for a walk and think grandmotherly thoughts.
I shot him a cocky smirk, but did as he said. When I came back, they were both laughing.
“I’ve never seen my dude so happy,” I heard Zeke tell her. “You’re the reason for that.”
“Yeah?” Aspen replied.
I had to smile. She sounded nervous and hopeful all at once.
“Yeah.”
Ping.
Someone just scored.
“Don’t hurt him, okay?” Zeke added after a moment.
Ping!
“That goes for you too,” Aspen responded, her tone chilled.
Zeke grunted. “Man, I really like you. Have I mentioned that?”
I heard the soft thud of the puck on the table.
“You sure you went to FCA?”
They began playing. Slap. Thud.
Another ping.
“Since the fall,” Aspen said.
“Huh. Are you like a silent assassin or something? How’d I never see you?”
I could hear her smile. “Because I’m a silent assassin.” Slap, ping. “I win.”
I took that as a sign and walked back into the room.
Zeke shook his head, standing back from the table. “Your girl kicks ass at air hockey.”
Aspen’s grin turned shy. “I used to play with my brother a lot. We had these at Hillcrest.”
Her brother. Owen.
I made a note that it was time to push her about him. She was ready.
Crossing the room, I moved to stand behind her, and put an arm against the table on either side of her. She was trapped, and I looked over her shoulder to Zeke, who was shaking his head. The walk hadn’t helped me, not even a little bit.
“What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked.