Page 91 of Playing the Pucking Game
Rett and I had started middle school a few weeks earlier, and he’d invited me to shoot a puck around his backyard. And there she was. Red pigtails, freckles over her cheeks and nose, in a pair of cute-as-hell overalls. I’m not ashamed to admit that I tripped over my own damn stick when she carried a tray of cookies and milk out for us.
I didn’t understand my reaction to her that day, or for quite a few years, but as we all grew up, it started to get a little more obvious.
That first day I saw her, I thought she was the cutest girl I’d ever seen. By the time I was fifteen and she' turned fourteen, I thought she was the hottest girl on the planet. And now, as a woman, well…fucking breathtaking.
“Right, okay.”
“You two are cute,” Marilyn states as he kicks his sneakers off and drags his long-sleeved Vipers shirt over his head. “Got romance novel written all over you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t read; I wouldn’t expect you to get it,” Marilyn deadpans.
“Hey, I can read.”
“I never said you couldn’t, just that you don’t.”
Parker giggles behind me. The sound makes the hairs on my neck rise.
“And you do?”
“My sister and I have a book club,” he explains. “Each month we take turns choosing something to read. We’ve been doing it for years.”
“That’s so cute. What are you reading at the moment?”
My eyes get wider and wider as Marilyn begins explaining the basic plot of some dark stalker romance he’s in the middle of.
Honestly, it sounds beyond fucked up, but I can’t deny that I’m curious.
“I haven’t read a book for pleasure in years,” Parker confesses.
“We’ve got plenty of flights coming up. I can give you some recommendations. We read all kinds of genres. Not just romance.”
“Have I just entered the twilight zone?” I ask.
“Ignore him. Storm is just jealous you can read an entire book. He gave up trying in sixth grade.”
“That’s not true,” I argue. “I read…” My words trail off when I realize I can’t name a single book I’ve read since leaving school. “Well, I could if I wanted.”
When both of them laugh at my expense, I shove my feet into my sneakers and drag my hoodie over my head.
“I guess I should leave you to it,” I mutter and reluctantly move toward the door Marilyn walked through a few minutes ago.
“That would be wonderful,” Marilyn says with a smirk. “It’s my time with the hot doc now.”
“Monroe,” I warn.
“Chill out, Storm. I’m just teasing. Parker knows that she’s my favorite.” He winks at her before hopping onto her table on his front.
Refusing to leave just yet, I rest my shoulder on the doorframe and watch as Parker moves around the bed and grabs her iPad from the side. She wakes it up and begins typing, oblivious to my attention.
“What are you plans tonight?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” Marilyn barks.
“Not you, Rookie. Parker, what are your plans for the night?”
She pauses what she’s doing and looks up.
