AllFreeNovel
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Hollyn and I are outside, eating breakfast at a local restaurant that I frequent often. She’s going on and on about how much she loves New Brunswick and that she wants to come back again.
I hope she doesn’t.
Last night was an eye-opener on a lot of shit I don’t want to keep delving into. I have two more weeks to go until my suspension is up, and Hollyn’s attendance is going to stir up shit.
It’s not to say I won’t ever see her again. Maybe I will. But it’s not like we’re going to go back and forth every day texting each other and carrying on like she is now. I’m too busy during the season, but maybe after…yeah, no. If Weston ever grows a pair of balls, she’ll be too busy with him.
“Why are you glaring at your waffles?”
My brain settles into the here and now, and I find that I am definitely spacing out. I’m annoyed, but not at her. My teammates can’t act like grown-ass adults because, after we left last night, they’ve been tag-teaming me in a group chat about what Hollyn and I planned to do in our hotel room. Which was nothing. I was. a perfect gentleman and we had two beds. Not that the thoughts of experiencing Hollyn didn’t have me tossing and turning though.
I’m honestly really starting to hate the boys right now. To the point where I might get back at them the only way, I know how, which is on the ice.
“No reason,” I mutter. “I was just thinking.”
“About murder?”
I snort because the woman can read me pretty well, that’s for sure. Hopefully, she didn’t join in the circus last night and thinks that I meant something else by sticking up for her with Wells.
“If you don’t want them,” Hollyn states. “We can trade.”
I glance over at her plate, forgetting what she ordered because I was too busy telling Graham to go fuck himself to see her eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, and hash browns.
I jerk my head. “Come here.” Hollyn picks up her plate and rounds the table while I pull one of the chairs closer for her to sit next to me. I ask her, “You wanna share?”
You wanna share? What the fuck, are you a kid? What adult man asks a woman something like that?
“Absolutely,” she beams, reaching for her fork, and takes a seat. “You okay with eating off each other’s plates?”
“Whatever you want.”
Hollyn immediately stabs one of my pieces of waffle and shoves it in her mouth with a lusty moan and, fuck me. This woman is an absolute tease.
She shoves her plate closer to mine. “Come on. Don’t make me eat all this alone.”
I take a piece of her sausage to appease her and to give me something to do. Her knee is barely brushing mine. I can’t remember the last time I had a date with a woman or even a meal. This shouldn’t be so foreign to me, and the longer I’m with Hollyn, the more I realize how hockey oriented I am. How everyone else communicates and forms relationships, and the only one I have outside of my team is Hollyn.
If you’d want to call it that.
I don’t know if we’d even consider each other friends, maybe co-workers.
“I have a question,” Hollyn mutters, covering her mouth as she chews as if it matters. “And you have to promise you won’t get mad.”
My brows immediately scrunch together. “What?”
Hollyn licks her bottom lip and takes another piece of waffle. “You promise?”
No.
However, I’ll never get the question, so she’s leaving me stuck with agreeing. “Go ahead.”
“You didn’t promise.”
“Hollyn.”
Her lips curl into a huge smile, and I try not to delve into it. To search for why she’s always smiling at me like I’m the best thing since Belgium waffles today, apparently.
“What’s your favorite color?”
