Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Thatcher had.
It’s insane how I never really noticed—or maybe I didn’t want to notice because it would have made me think I could act on my desires for him. Our past is such a mess, and it freaks me the hell out. But what freaks me out more is knowing I want to forget it all, throw caution to the wind, and give in to every one of my desires. There is just so much pain and so many mistakes between us, however. Could we ever possibly move on from it?
Could we try again?
Thatcher has none of my reservations, though, as he holds Arwen on his hip, his large hand on the small of my back. His hand is warm, steady on me, as if everything before the moment he came back into my life never happened. He has been so attentive, and every time he looks at me, he makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world. His eyes get this darkness to them when he looks at me that makes the brown of his irises seem black. He makes me hot everywhere, and it’s getting harder by the hour not to fall back in love with him.
Or, at least, admit that I have. Because, let me be honest, I never stopped loving Thatcher Orlov.
My chest aches as he guides me into Aviva and Nico Merryweather’s home. I haven’t been to this house since Nico bought it for Aviva after she became pregnant with their second child. The house is spacious, with an open floor plan that is very modern and has a chic feel. The house is fully decorated in Paw Patrol, and I swear on every surface is a sign with Vivian and a 4. When I left, Aviva had just given birth to Vivian, but I never got to meet her. Guess that’s about to change.
Not only is the house full of birthday décor but also photos of their family. Loads of shots on the ice of Nico in his goalie gear and Aviva and the kids. I get a burning feeling in my chest that I tell myself is indigestion, but really, it’s because I want this. I want a house full of memories of my family.
Of Arwen…and Thatcher.
And me.
Of us.
That fucking word.
When a photo of Aviva’s little sister, Callie, catches my eye, my grin widens. In it, her boyfriend, Evan Adler, who I guess is now her fiancé, is on his knee with a huge ring just for her in the middle of an outdoor ice rink. It’s funny, when I was younger, that’s how I thought Thatcher would propose to me. On the ice, where he made his living and where I was dead set on being his biggest fan.
According to Arwen, my position has been taken.
I’m trying really hard not to be jealous of my daughter.
Then I remind myself I’m not supposed to be his biggest fan.
But apparently my heart didn’t get that memo.
The house is full of kids and IceCats players. I recognize almost everyone, and my heart catches in my throat because most of them were there when Thatcher let me have it.
I’m holding my breath in hopes that no one will notice me. I should know better. Beside me, Thatcher grins widely as Aviva comes out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a return grin. “Thatcher!” Aviva has always been such a beautiful woman. She’s tall, with curves and such a kind smile. Her dark-brown hair is up in a sleek ponytail, and her green eyes are done up nicely with light makeup. She’s wearing a Paw-Patrol-patterned dress that flares around her hips and hits her knees. On her head is a helmet that Sky from Paw Patrol wears. Jeez, motherhood is a great look on her.
I watch as her brows knit when she sees Arwen, and then her smile falls quickly when she notices me. “Audrina?” Her voice is full of shock before her grin returns. “Oh my God! It’s so good to see you. Come here!”
I’m surprised by her welcome, but even more so when she wraps her arms around me like I haven’t been gone for more than three years. “Where have you been!? I’ve missed you! I tried calling and texting you.”
I grimace. “Yeah, I got a new phone. I’ve been all over.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” she gushes, squeezing my hands. “I know he has to be too,” she says, nodding toward Thatcher.
“I am,” he says proudly, as if he couldn’t miss the opportunity to tell me so.
Smug asshole.
But damn it, the butterflies in my belly go wild.
I smile to myself as Aviva looks up to where Arwen is leaning her cheek against Thatcher’s. Her eyes widen as Arwen smiles happily. My kid has never met a stranger, pretty sure she could be best friends with a rock. She wears a brand-new pink Juicy jumpsuit that I didn’t even know they still made. Leave it to my mom and Maeve to not only find it, but buy it in every color for Arwen. She has on a pair of little pink Uggs with a huge pink Juicy bow in her hair.