Page 105 of Married to Number 22
And I don’t let go until she does.
Then with the hug held close to my heart, I say goodbye, get into my car, and I drive home.
Unfortunately, what I find there isn’t a big, bearded hockey player whose heart is mine…
Instead, I stumble onto my worst nightmare.
Thirty-Nine
Aiden
I frownas I look at my phone, something prickling at back of my nape.
“What is it?” Smitty says.
“Nothing,” I mutter, shoving my phone away and going back to getting undressed.
“Dude.”
“What?” I ask as I yank at my laces, shove off my skates.
“That’s not the face of a man who’s thinking aboutnothing.” He tosses his jersey into the bin in the center of the room. “You played great tonight, so it’s not hockey.” He slants his gaze in my direction. “Did you fuck up with Luna and need to apologize? I figured you’d have a longer grace period considering the whole aligning your wife with some powerful billionaires thing, but who am I to know?” He lifts one big shoulder then drops it. “I suggest flowers and chocolate and maybe a brand-new laptop.”
“What?” I grumble. “No jewelry?”
“My woman would rather have computer parts,” he says. “So, no. I can’t vouch for the apologetic properties of jewelry.”
I roll my eyes.
Still, Luns loved the ring I bought her, so I think I might have better luck with jewelry than Smitty does.
But the apologetic property of diamonds are honestly the least of my concerns right now.
Because I texted Luna before the game.
And she still hasn’t replied.
Not that I expect her to respond to me instantly—but it’s been four hours.
And my nape is prickling.
And…
“What’s it for Luna?” he asks and I blink, putting my phone aside again.
“What?”
“Aside from chocolate and flowers, what’s Luna’s soft spot?”
Books.
My mouth kicks up.
And ice cream.
And jewelry.
“You’re not going to share?”
