Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
The air catches in my throat.
Fall in love with.
I don’t correct him because it is how I feel.
I nod. “You were trying to protect me—I get that.”
He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “Can I ask you a very personal question?”
I do not want to agree.
“Why don’t you think you deserve to love someone out loud?” he asks gently, lips downturned at the corners. “You think I don’t notice how small you make yourself when you care about someone. Like you have to build them up, put them on a pedestal instead of choosing yourself?”
My bottom lip quivers.
“Do I do that?” Make myself small?
“Yeah. You do.” My brother nods. “You think I didn’t want to keep things quiet with Austin at first? I did. Because of the same fear. The pressure. The bullshit that comes with people watching. But eventually, I had to ask myself—why not me? Why don’t I deserve to shout about it like everyone else?”
His keen eyes are locked on mine. “So why not you, Nova? Why don’t you deserve that?”
I’ve asked myself the same thing a million times. Some nights when I’m lying awake I wonder what it would be like to hold Luca’s hand in public. To kiss him like we had nothing to hide. To exist together without looking over our shoulders for cameras or my brother.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I guess I thought if I kept it small, it would hurt less when it ended.”
Gio tilts his head. “Does it feel small?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good.” My brother looks satisfied. “Mission accomplished.”
I lift my gaze to stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “It means—that was a set up and you passed.”
“Excuse me?”
He grins. “What? You think I’d go full nuclear on Luca for no reason? I’m not psychotic and I don’t have a death wish—dude could kick my ass if he really wanted to.”
My eyes get as wide as they’ve ever gotten. “Wait. You planned that?” Is this some kind of fucking joke?
“Look,” he says, walking toward me for a hug. “I’ve been overreacting for years. You were never the problem, Nova. The problem was I didn’t want to see someone I care about get hurt. And I was trying to be your big brother instead of letting you do what’s best for you.”
I nod against his chest as he wraps his big, bear arms around me. “So what do I do now?”
I feel him smile into the top of my head. “You make it up to him.”
“How?” My voice is muffled against his sweatshirt.
“Go big or go home.” He laughs. “You’re going to have to figure out real quick how to shout it from the rooftops.”
I pull back enough to look up at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” he says. “You show up where he is. Where people can see you. Where he can see you. And you stop pretending this is a secret you have to protect. Put it out there.”
Panic rises in my throat. “Gio…”
He holds up a hand. “Nope. No more excuses. You want to love him? Then do it. All in, all the way. Out loud. In front of his teammates. In front of God.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
He’s right—and I’m out of excuses.
35
luca
Icould have made that pass in my sleep.
Unfortunately, tonight—I miss it because tonight I am playing like total shit.
Absolute, flaming garbage.
The pass bounces off the sideboard and ricochets like a goddamn pinball. Parker, who’s had my back since the first day of training camp, gives me a look as he chases it down, no time to dwell on my fuck-up.
My legs are heavy, my hands feel disconnected from my body, and everything I do is a split-second too slow.
I’m late to every puck. Sloppy on every line change. And Gio, who’s locked in at goalie like his life depends on it, is clearly two seconds away from launching one of his pads at my head.
I don’t blame him.
“Babineaux!” Coach bellows from the bench, clipboard thrashing as his face turns beet red.
I flinch.
“Get it together!” Gio shouts from his crease.
Focus.
Focus.
Focus.
Easier said than done.
I walked out of Nova’s apartment three days ago, and it hasn’t stopped eating away at me since.
She didn’t say she loved me. She didn’t stop me from walking away. Stood there, arms crossed, mouth parted and let me leave like I hadn’t laid my whole damn heart at her feet.
For a second time.
Whatever.
I don’t need a woman like that.
But what I really did was leave her standing in a room full of unspoken nothings—the things she was about to say before Gio barged in. Yes, we had it planned but I hadn’t gotten to hear what she was about to say and now I never will.
Every play is muffled.
Every bruised rib I gain from being slammed into the boards—they’re all punishment for what I already know deep down: