Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
And that’s why it never worked with Ash.
“I’m gonna go see if my boyfriend needs help.”
Ash steps forward. “Ollie …”
“I’m good,” I promise him. “I’m fine. It was just a shock, but congrats. I mean that.” Yet my feet scurry away as if I’m lying.
I have no destination in mind, but my gut seems to know, and it’s not until I run into Lennon and my mother laughing in the kitchen that I snap out of whatever fucking emotion I’m feeling toward Ash and suddenly realize what I’m doing to Lennon.
Bringing him here.
Forcing him to pretend to be my boyfriend for my family’s sake, when in reality, it’s for mine.
Because I want him.
I think I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Including the NHL.
My chest stutters, and I think it’s my heart protesting. This is too heavy. It’s too much. Ash, my family, my career … Lennon.
This is beyond unfair to him.
When they finally notice my presence, Lennon’s beautiful smile drops.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Of course, he asks. Because he’s a nice person.
Guilt gnaws at me every time I remember that.
“Yeah …” I croak. “I just need to lie down for a minute.” I rush up the stairs and slam the door by accident but then cringe when I realize the entire backyard would’ve heard it.
I will not let this get to me. My feet pace back and forth, the floorboards in the attic squeaking under the pressure.
It’s not that Ash is moving on. It’s not.
Is it?
Fuck, I don’t know.
Maybe it’s that he gets to have the life we were planning. It wasn’t going to be soon, but we’d discussed it. Our parents pushed for it.
Meanwhile, I’m sneaking a sports reporter out of my hotel room and jerking off with him like it’s no big deal.
I guess the problem is everyone involved—my family, Ash, me—all of us thought Ash leaving me would be a good thing. That maybe it would be the push I needed to come out.
Nope, all it did was make me want to convince them I’m happy even without him.
Am I happy, though?
I think about hockey, about my life in New York, my new friends, Lennon and Jet, and realize, yeah, I’m happy, but …
Clarity hits with such force, I have to sit on the edge of my bed.
That there is my issue.
I’m happy, but I’m not complete.
Chapter Eighteen
LENNON
“Should I …” I gesture to where Ollie disappeared to, but his mom shakes her head.
“He had to run into Ash sooner or later. Maybe give him a few minutes.”
“Okay,” I say but don’t take my eyes off the stairs.
“He’ll be fine.” Ollie’s mom gives me a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling Ash gave him his news.”
“What news?”
Her eyes drop and she turns her head to look out the kitchen window. “He met someone and is getting married.” The longing in her gaze and her voice is hard to miss.
“You wish it was Ollie he was marrying?” I ask.
She fakes a smile. “No, hon. I want Oliver to be happy. But I do wish he could’ve found it in himself to do the one thing Ash needed so it could’ve been him.”
I keep my mouth shut. Telling her how misguided that statement is, even if she thinks she’s being supportive, won’t get me anywhere.
“Then again, if he was truly happy with Ash, and he was the one, my son wouldn’t be here with you today, would he?”
“Umm …” Is that a compliment or an insult? I have no idea.
Her warm face and soft tone suggest she means it in a good way, so I pretend that’s what she meant. It’s probably the only way to make sure my mouth does, in fact, remain shut.
Footsteps sound behind us, but Max is a blur as he practically bolts past us and up the stairs. A knock sounds, and then the low voices from Ollie and Max disappear behind the creak of the door opening and closing.
“I’m going to take these dishes out,” Mrs. Strömberg says. “Are you all right to finish up the salad?”
I smile. “Of course.”
As she leaves, I contemplate going upstairs to check on Ollie. He just found out his ex is getting married. That’s gotta hurt even if he is over him like he says. But Max is up there. I’ll leave the brothers to sort their shit first. Max being the most intimidating brother isn’t the real reason for not going up there. Nope. Not at all. Okay, maybe a little. Or a lot.
Fine, I’m being a wimp because Max scares me.
When I put the remaining touches on the salad, I take it out into the backyard, where Ollie’s parents are herding the crowd like cattle toward the two long tables set up. Well, they’re trying to. It looks more like they’re trying to herd cats.