Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“That’s high praise,” I tease, glancing at her.
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, she rests her head back against the seat, her gaze fixed out the window. “It was different. Good different.”
I shift in my seat, feeling a tug of pride. “I’m glad you gave it a shot. Not everyone’s brave enough to tackle a wall like that on their first real try.”
Her laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Brave, huh? I don’t know about that. There were definitely moments when I thought I was going to fall on my ass.”
“But you didn’t,” I point out. “You pushed through. That’s what counts.”
She doesn’t respond right away, her fingers stilling on her thigh. After a moment, she says, “You’d told me it was a hobby of yours, but have you always been into climbing? You seemed way too comfortable up there.”
I nod, a grin tugging at my lips. “Yeah. My dad got me into it when I was a kid. He used to take me to this outdoor climbing spot near our house. At first, I was terrified, but he was patient. Taught me how to trust the gear, my footing, my hands. It kind of stuck with me.”
“Your dad sounds like a good guy,” she says, her voice softer now.
“He is,” I say simply, glancing at her again. “What about you? Did you do anything like this growing up? Sports? Hobbies?”
She snorts lightly. “Does reading history books and conducting science experiments in the basement count?”
“Depends,” I say. “Were you good at it?”
“Very,” she replies, her tone dry but amused. “I was a brainy nerd to the core.”
“Like how brainy?”
“Near genius IQ,” she replies with what almost sounds like bitterness.
“I’m not surprised,” I say.
She blinks at me. “Really? I’m an unemployed bartender mooching off her brother. Pretty unambitious.”
“What does that have to do with intelligence?” I ask. “I mean, anyone who talks to you for ten seconds can tell you’re on another level of smarts. And can’t there be smart bartenders?”
“I suppose,” she drawls hesitantly.
“I don’t buy you’re not ambitious either. I bet you have all kinds of secret aspirations.”
My eyes move from the road to Farren, and I catch the look of confusion on her face, tinged with a slight bit of panic.
Getting too close so it’s time to pull back but she changes the subject on me.
“You know,” she says thoughtfully, “it’s weird. I’ve done a lot of enriching experiences in my life—bartending stories, traveling, hobnobbing with famous hockey players.” She shoots me a wink and I can’t help but laugh. “But today felt different.”
“How so?” I ask.
She hesitates, as if trying to find the right words. “I don’t know. Like I wasn’t just passing time. I was actually… present, I guess? Does that make sense?”
“It does.” I nod and it makes me hopeful that she’s seeing the plus side of having someone. “Sometimes it’s not about what you’re doing, it’s about who you’re doing it with.”
She glances at me, her expression unreadable, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But then she smiles—a small, genuine smile that tightens something in my chest.
“Maybe,” she says, her voice quieter now.
We pull up to Rafferty’s condo and she unbuckles her seat belt. “Give me a minute.”
Before she gets out, I reach across the console. “One more thing. A few of us are going dogsledding on Friday. They’re calling for snow tomorrow and it should be perfect conditions.”
Farren’s eyes round. “Dogsledding here in Pittsburgh? You’re kidding me.”
Chuckling, I nod. “There’s supposedly a cool place not far from here. Want to come?”
She freezes, one leg already out of the car, and turns back to me. “It would be outing us as dating.”
She says the word dating as if it’s a curse word, the grimace behind it amusing more than anything.
“If you’re worried about the whole ‘us’ thing, I can set the stage with them. They’re cool—it won’t be a big deal.”
“They’re going to have to find out sooner or later.” Her brow furrows slightly as she processes this. “You’ll just tell everyone we’re seeing each other?”
“Yeah,” I say simply. “Why not? No drama, no secrets. We’re adults, and honestly, they’re probably going to give me shit for waiting this long to say anything.”
She bites her lip, clearly weighing her options. “And you think it’ll be fine? No weirdness?”
“None,” I assure her. “They’ll just be happy you’re hanging out with us. Plus, Rafferty is on board and isn’t that what matters? I’m thinking tomorrow when I see the guys at the arena before the game. I’ll casually bring it up.”
She looks like she might say no, her lips pressing into a thin line. But then she sighs, a small smile threatening to break free. “All right. I’ll go. But if anyone makes a big deal out of it, I’m out of there.”
“Deal,” I say, my grin widening.