Page 41 of Forever Wild
I can see I’m not convincing him.
“James must think it’s a good idea if he sent it over.”
“James thinks I should go to everything.”
“Not true. On one of the emails he forwarded he said if you werelooking for something that night, he’d find something better.”
One side of his mouth quirks up.
“Pretend you’re James and I’ll be you.”
His brows lift in amusement and possibly annoyance.
“Yo, James, I got this invite to a ball. Balls are dumb. I don’t want to go.” I stop and wait for him to play along.
“I don’t sound like that. When have you ever heard me say ‘yo’?”
“Just go with it.” I motion with my hand to encourage him. “What would James say to try to convince you.”
His chest rises and falls with a heavy sigh. “He’d say that it’s a good opportunity to talk with the people at Nike again. He wants to lock them into a contract before I retire.”
The last part lands like a hammer, sucking the air from my lungs. “You’re going to retire?”
I have absolutely no ability to hold in my reaction. I can’t picture Jack not playing hockey, not being the Wildcats captain. What would he do? God, what would the team do without him?
“No, but I can’t play forever. If the accident taught me anything, it’s that I’m not invincible and I’m not getting any younger.”
“You are kind of old.” I scrunch up my nose. The truth is he’s just gotten better looking the longer I’ve known him. It really isn’t fair that men get hotter with age and meanwhile my friends are already performing a morning and nighttime skin and body routine to delay aging.
“I turn thirty-three next month. If I’m lucky, I have another seven or eight years.”
He’s planning almost a decade in advance, and I can barely manage to work out what I want to do on a daily basis. The age difference between us has never felt bigger.
“Seems like you should go to the ball then.”
“What is it with you and this ball?” He’s stretching on the ground in front of me. One hand rests protectively over his left knee. He’s been getting around better on it, but every once in a while, I see him rubbing his thigh or extending it like he’s testing the feel of it.
“I don’t know. It sounds fun.”
“Fine, I’ll go.”
I start to smile at his agreement, but then he adds, “Ifyou come with me.”
“Me?” I shake my head to say absolutely not but then stop myself. I mean, when else am I going to ever be invited to an event like this?
“Deal.”
His smirk remains. I will deal with the repercussions of my agreement later. I’m pretty sure I’ll have to buy a gown and a mask and…later. I will deal with it all later.
“James will be so happy,” I say, then send the RSVP for Jack plus date (OMG, date?! Another thing I push off until later to deal with).
“Staying for dinner?” he asks when I close the laptop. I did not manage to get through all his unread emails, but I made a dent.
“No, I need to run some errands tonight.”
He cocks a brow.
“I have a date tomorrow and I need something new to wear.” Plus, I have a waxing appointment.
