Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“I was trying to save you the stress that comes from working with your dad.”
“By insisting I didn’t have the organizational skills to put together a social event with pillars of the community I basically live and breathe?”
“You’re overselling that speech.”
“You’re under remembering.”
“You’re avoiding.”
“You. Are. Correct.” Tapping fists with Groffee precedes me happily pointing to his new LMC coffee cup the demon that wears Dior wants them promoting. “I don’t wanna have this conversation.”
“Not wanting to have it doesn’t change the fact that it needs to be had.”
Cap is next to lightly pound his knuckles with mine.
“You wanted a second opinion about the surgery. You got three.”
“I was just being thorough,” I defensively mutter prior to engaging in the action with Hedgie.
“And now you’re just being stubborn.”
“I learned it from watching you.”
“You learned it from watching us,” she helplessly snickers.
“Truthskies.”
Both of my parents are headstrong as fuck.
It’s why the business has steadily grown and expanded and ventured into, along with held its own, in markets people told them they would never survive in.
And that gift of determination?
It’s one they gave to us.
The difference of course being I use mine for good while the womb sharer uses her for evil.
Example?
I was literally laughed out of the room for auditioning to be a hockey commentator only to use my resolve to become one of the highest paid media coordinators in the league and the highest paid one with tits, yet when she was denied the opportunity to model some on the rise, plus-sized brand – something she is clearly not – she bought the company, fired everyone, and resold it to what would’ve been its biggest competitor in the market for the price of one luxury rooftop brunch.
See.
Evil.
“You need the surgery, Arden,” Mom scolds, tone more concerned than anything else. “Your vertigo episodes are increasing.”
“Only a little.”
“And your tinnitus is getting worse.”
“I mean…it’s not getting better.”
“And I get it. You’re an adult woman who can make her own decisions-”
“Typically.”
“However, you are still my little girl, which means I want and am going to nag you into making the right call for your health.”
Against my own volition my shoulders sulk in defeat. “Fine.”
“Fine, what?”
“Fine, I’ll schedule the appointment.”
“Now.”
“Not now,” I bite at the same time the elevator doors open to spit out the last of the players. “I’m working.”
“You’re always working.”
“Yes, and I hope you know most parents would be proud of that.”
“Arden.”
“I’ll call Monday.”
“Tomorrow.”
“If I get home in time. Deal?”
“Deal.” She doesn’t even pause long enough for a breath. “But I will be following up on this. Clear?”
“Clearksies.”
Peck knocks his fists against mine and continues walking while Tanner completely stops.
Slides his hands into his dark coat.
Wordlessly declares no pregame tap will be given unless he has my undivided attention.
Ugh.
Sweet stubborn bastard.
“Gotta go, Mom.” Meeting Khurana’s stare for a brief moment is accompanied by a head tip to get moving. “Loading up.”
“Quack. Quack.”
The code phrase successfully pulls a crooked grin to my phrase. “Quack. Quack.”
Ending the call has barely been completed when Tanner squawks, “Did you just quack at your mum?!” Mirth floods his bright crystal stare to the point that it almost takes my breath away. “Like was that an actual thing that just happened? That I just had the pleasure to witness?!”
Rather than engage in his taunting, I begin my own, “You look like Robin Hood.”
He places an open palm of intrigue over his emerald green tie. “Prince of Thieves?”
“Men in Tights.”
The glare he twitches prompts me to extend my fist for the traditional bump that he instantly delivers. Afterwards, we begin heading side by side for the bus. “Which of those should we watch postgame tonight?”
“Shouldn’t you be focused on pregame ritchies rather than post?”
“I can do both.”
“You can barely do one.”
Light chuckles swing back and forth but unfortunately get interrupted by a loud, high pitched, feminine voice. “Froskkkky!!!!” The two of us cut our gazes to the left where a large tittied brunette is bouncing up and down like a Pomeranian. “OhmygoodFroskkkkyyyy!” An object suddenly gets propelled through the air, landing lifelessly near his feet. “For luck!”
Disgust can’t be kept out of my voice, “Are those her panties?”
“Yes,” an irrefutable astonished sigh escapes, “those are indeed her panties.”
“Hope they’re clean,” is muttered as I continue to walk.
“I appreciate the thought!” He calls out to her on a point of the object. “Thank you!” Hurrying to remain at my side precedes him mumbling, “That’s a new one.”
“Can the same be said for that thong?”
Additional laughter escapes during our ascension of the bus steps; however, the instant the team sees their final player board, they collectively “ra” smothering out the sound.
I prepare to drop down in the seat beside Khurana when Tanner turns to face me, mischievous smile – I hate myself for knowing so damn well – plastered plain as day on his face.