Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
That couldn't be further from the truth. I'm so in love with him that I can't breathe through it most days. He consumes every thought in my head. No one has ever set me on fire and made me feel so safe, so seen, and so heard at the same time.
I want him to feel seen and heard too. I need him to know that he matters to me. And I can't do that the way he deserves if I'm too damn scared to even tell my dad that I'm in love with the man.
My whole life, my father has warned me away from hockey players, preaching that they'd screw up my life. I don't think I ever fully grasped how I internalized those talks until the other night in Nash's arms. He was right, though. I think I have spent most of my life believing that I ruined my dad's career…and a little afraid he regrets having me as a result.
My mom walked away, but he didn't. He's always been my hero for choosing me when she didn't. It'll crush me if some part of him wishes he'd made the same choice she did, so I've never asked. I've never wanted to face the possibility of having that fear confirmed. But…I don't have a choice any longer. I'll never move beyond it if I don't face it.
And Nash and I will be stuck in a perpetual limbo, constantly hiding. That isn't what I want. It isn't what he wants either. As fun as it is for him to drag me into every dark corner of the arena to fool around…we can't keep going like this forever.
It isn't fair to either one of us.
"Can I ask you a question?" I ask my dad, fidgeting with a napkin.
"Depends on the question, Emilia." He eyes me sideways. "I don't know how to answer half the shit you ask when I've had a full night's sleep. I'm running on far less than that today, kid."
"I'm not that bad."
He snorts, sipping his coffee.
"I'm not!" I protest.
"Really? So you didn't accuse the team of engaging in group masturbation?"
"Oh my god." I stare at him in shock. "You heard about that?"
"Oh, I heard about it." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Circle jerks, Emilia? Really?"
"I told you I panicked when I walked in, and they were all naked!" I whisper-hiss, squirming in my seat. I cannot believe they ratted me out to my dad! "And just so you know, trying to conduct therapy sessions with men you can no longer look in the eye—who can't look you in the eye—is all kinds of awkward and uncomfortable. I blame you."
"How the fuck is any of this my fault?"
"Meet me in the locker room, kid," I say, pitching my voice low to mimic his gruff voice. "And then who wasn't in the locker room? Uh, that'd be you. But guess who was in the locker room? Oh, just an entire team of naked hockey players!"
His lips curve into a grin. "You were supposed to knock."
"When have I ever?" I cry, throwing my hands out wide.
His shoulders shake with the force of his laughter. "Ask your question."
I hesitate as the waitress cuts across the checkered floor toward us to take our order. My stomach is in knots, so I just order eggs and toast. My dad orders half the menu, like usual.
"Do you ever regret giving up your career for me?" I blurt, chewing on my bottom lip as soon as she walks away.
"What the fuck?" he growls, his brows winging together as he glares at me. "What kind of bullshit question is that, Emilia?"
"I don't know," I whisper, dropping my gaze to my hands. "You hate the thought of me dating a hockey player so much. It took me months to convince you to let me take this job! Part of me has always felt like it's because the association between relationships and hockey is so negative for you, personally. And I guess I wonder how much of that is because of me." My shoulders bounce in a shrug. "If you hadn't decided to keep me, you'd have been able to play a lot longer than you did. Maybe you and my mom would have worked out. Without me, your life would have turned out a lot different."
"You're right," he says, and an entire section of my heart shears away. Tears spring to my eyes. I blink rapidly, keeping my gaze firmly on the table. "My life would have turned out differently. I would have kept playing. Maybe your mom would have stuck around a while longer. And I would have missed out on the best goddamn thing I've ever done."
I jerk my gaze up, staring at him in shock. The look on his face… Good lord. It makes my damn soul quiver. I've seen my dad angry before. I've seen him disappointed. But I don't think I've ever seen him look so righteously furious.