Hotshot (The Elmwood Stories #5) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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I opened my mouth to tell him so, but something else came out. “They need me, and I think I can make a difference.”

Silence.

“I thought you hated it there,” he huffed skeptically.

“Well…I don’t.”

“What about the therapy practice you wanted?”

“I think this is more important now.”

My father hummed thoughtfully. “Christ, Hank, I’m proud of you.”

Whoa. That stopped me. I hadn’t heard those words in…ever.

“I…thanks, Dad. But I haven’t done anything yet. It’s still the same here.”

“But you will. You’re going to see this through, aren’t you?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I am.”

“Good. Your mom would be proud too. Love you, son. Hey, did I tell you about…”

I caught every other word for the duration of the call. Honestly, I was still reeling from his praise.

I knew my dad loved me, but it was safe to say I frustrated him. He wanted at least one of his kids to be like him, and I’d tried, but man, those were hard shoes to fill. I never seemed to get it right. I used to think being gay was a hurdle he hadn’t really gotten over, but it wasn’t that. He’d known early on what he wanted from life and I was just figuring it out now.

In Elmwood, of all places. And Wood Hollow.

Between mornings and evenings at the stable and long hours at the mill, I’d neglected some basic necessities…like purchasing coffee. And I hadn’t realized I was out till it was too late to put in an order for delivery. If I wanted caffeine, I was going to have to venture into town and buy it from Rise and Grind. I supposed I could go without, but I wasn’t a masochist. And if I went early enough, I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew who might ask probing questions, like…

“Where have you been?” JC motioned for me to join him and Riley in line, turning to the guy I’d cut in front of with a quick, “Sorry, but this is important. You know my friend, Hank Cunningham, oui?”

“I do. I work for him.” Niall offered his hand and shook mine with gusto. “I haven’t had a chance to say anything yet, but…I wanted to thank you for your speech earlier in the week. It was good, ya know? I think we all needed to hear that you’re committed to the town.”

I nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Niall released my hand and patted my shoulder. “Glad to hear it. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“No, no, we are buying his coffee. You will try again tomorrow,” JC insisted, pulling me along with him in line.

Riley chuckled. “Go along with it. Jean-Claude doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“My husband is a smart man. So…ça vas? Why are you hiding from us? You haven’t been to zee diner in a week. Did you eat something bad? If so, it was not in my kitchen. Check the dates on your condiments, eh?”

“I’m fine, but thanks for⁠—”

“No, you’re too skinny.” JC barreled to the front of the line and greeted Ivan. “We will have three lattes and three croissants, s’il te plaît. No, make it four. Two for the cowboy without the hat. He needs food.”

“You got it,” Ivan enthused. “You’re going to freak out. I’ve been practicing new art and I’ve got something fun for you.”

“That is frightening, but…merci.”

I joined Riley and JC at the side counter, clutching a bag of croissants and making small talk about the weather, the new menu at the diner, the movie star sighting in Pinecrest, and the raccoon who upended Mr. Jenkins’s trash and was seen gnawing on a VHS jazzercise video.

“Jazzercise? That’s awesome,” I commented with a half laugh.

“The best part was that a fourteen-year-old camper found the tape and had no idea what it was,” Riley reported. “Listening to Vinnie and Ronnie trying to explain old technology to a bunch of teenagers was freaking hysterical. We all appreciated the moment of levity. The big scrimmage is tonight and tensions are high. Well…not really, but we pump it up all week, so this is serious stuff.”

“Former pros and current pros compete,” JC added. “It will be a bloodbath.”

“Hey!” Riley huffed.

“In a good way.”

“Ta-da! A cactus!” Ivan set our lattes on the counter with a flourish. “What do you think?”

JC rubbed his beard, lifting one eyebrow. “It’s a kinky cactus. Like a penis with thorns.”

Ivan threw his hands in the air in mock surrender. “You’re the worst. Have a good day, boys.”

I chuckled as I followed them outside, feeling lighter than I had all week. “Thanks again for the latte and the croissants. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. See you at the scrimmage tonight,” Riley said, hooking his arm in JC’s.

I was definitely not going to the scrimmage, but I lifted the to-go cup as I turned—and immediately ran into the man I’d been thinking about nonstop for days.


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