Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Want to swing by your place on the way to the hospital?” I ask her, unlocking the truck doors and placing my bag and suit in the back.
“Would that be too much trouble?” she asks me, and I just shake my head. “Then yes, please. It will take me literally five minutes.”
I drive her over to her loft parking. “Want me to come in and help you change?” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she smiles and shuts the door, running inside.
I’m shocked when she comes out less than five minutes later. “Told you.”
“I will never doubt you.” I laugh, pulling out of her parking lot thinking to myself that there was no way she would be ready in that time. I hold her hand as I drive her to the hospital, pulling up to the front.
“When are you back?” she asks.
“The game is tonight so tomorrow afternoon,” I tell her, leaning over the console. She meets me halfway and gives me a kiss.
“Play hard,” she says, kissing me one more time and then climbing out of the truck. I watch her walk into the hospital and only leave when I can’t see her anymore. For the first time in what feels like forever, I can’t stop smiling as I make my way toward the rink.
I walk into the rink and run into Olivier first. “Hey, I was looking for you.”
“Me?” I ask him, and he just nods at me. “Let me put this down and I’ll meet you in the office.”
I walk into the room and see that most of the players have arrived. “Someone looks like they got lucky,” Mark says. Matthew looks up, and he smiles big, looking over at Max.
“Definitely looks like he got lucky,” Matthew says, and Max’s eyes come up, looking at me. I try not to make eye contact with him in case he can really tell that I got lucky. I mean, not lucky, but I was lucky enough to spend the night with his sister.
“Do you guys have a radar for this shit?’ he asks, looking at me and then down again.
“No one got lucky,” I tell them. “I just had a great morning.”
“Yeah, sure,” Mark says. “I had a great morning also, but you don’t see me walking into the locker room like I just won the Miss America pageant.”
Matthew slaps his leg, laughing when Phil comes in, looking around. “He got lucky,” he says, pointing at me.
“You guys are way off base,” I say, walking out of the room and going to find Olivier. I knock on his door, and he tells me to come in. “You wanted to see me?”
“I did. Can you shut the door?” he asks, and I have this sudden sinking feeling in my gut. He must see this because he just smiles. “Relax, I’m not going to ask you to strip for me.” He laughs and then looks at me as I sit in the chair in front of his desk.
“Well, that’s a relief,” I joke with him.
“How open are you about Jack and his cancer?” he asks, crossing his hands on his desk.
“Not very,” I tell him, and then a knock on the door sounds, and he says to come in. Matthew opens the door, and he and Max look in.
“Are we late?” they ask, coming into the room and closing the door behind them.
“No, you’re right on time,” he says and then looks back at me. “As you know, Max has his foundation that is huge and getting bigger.”
Max leans against the door and crosses his arms over his chest, almost as if he’s puffing out his chest. “We, and by we, I mean, me and someone I’m close to.”
“Steve,” Max and Matthew both say, smiling. “Your boyfriend.”
“Don’t be childish,” he says. “I don’t have a boyfriend; he’s a friend.”
“A friend you date, exclusively,” Max says, and then Olivier glares at him.
“We don’t put a label on our relationship,” he says, leaning back. “We are two consenting adults having fun.”
“With only each other,” Matthew points out. “What would you say if he was also dating someone else?” It may have been the wrong thing to say because he stops, and his smile goes serious.
“Have you heard something?” He looks at both of them.
“Simmer down there, big boy. Just pointing out that you’re more than just two consenting adults.” Matthew puts up his hand and then asks, “Can we just continue why you summoned us?”
“As I was saying,” he continues, “we donate a lot of money to the Max Horton Foundation, and this March is the big St. Baldrick’s one. It’s a foundation that funds grants for childhood cancer research through head-shaving events, so kids with cancer can live long, healthy lives.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Would you be okay if we did it in Jack’s honor?” he asks, and I look at everyone in the room.