I look over and see an envelope. With my name on the outside in Jayne’s handwriting.
Another letter.
She gave me one other one, right before she left L.A., and it was a sweet but intimate look at her life—and all the things she wants to do, both personally and professionally. So, I’m curious about this one. I assume she gave it to Billie to slip into my room, and I smile as I open it. The date on the front tells me it was written the night after our first official date, when we left the farmers’ market.
Bodi,
This is a long one, so buckle up. There are so many things I want to tell you but I think I’m a little shy. Or maybe it’s just that I’m not confident in where we stand because it’s so damn new. I just know that I felt something when we were stuck in that elevator together—and today, when I saw you at the market, it was like someone lit a fire inside me. Is that silly? Probably, but I can’t help it. You make me smile. You also make me feel seen.
And no one has cared to see the real me since my mom died.
I’m not going down that road again—you already know I miss her. And I know you miss your parents. Someday, I hope you tell me more about them. Until then, I thought I’d tell you all the things you might not think to ask me. The good, the bad, and the mediocre.
I really do study too much. I read and write papers and think about the next paper or the next book. Someday I want to write one. Well, I want to write two… one has to be a romance because I’ll create a happy ending for someone, even if it winds up not being me. And the other would be non-fiction, about my love of books and words and literature.Super geeky, and I’m sure no one would buy it. Except maybe you?
I’d dedicate the romance to you, because you inspire a thousand plot bunnies.
And the other would be for my mom, who instilled the love of books into me.
So, you have to be prepared for the girl who has a stack of books on her nightstand. Who spends her free time reading and buying books and thinking about the next books she wants to buy. You’ll probably have to drag me out on a Saturday night by the hair…
I laugh at that.
I’ve never had to drag her anywhere. And the moment we touch, I’m fairly confident she’s not thinking about books.
I kind of like the idea of inspiring her to write a romance hero. I’d be down with being a knight or something.
I read the letter and then read it again.
And it makes me smile.
All the things she thinks make her “bad” or “mediocre” actually turn me on. Her glasses. The pretty skirts she wears to work. Her “saggy” breasts—her words, not mine—and a dozen other things I love about her.
I stare up at the ceiling for a beat as reality crashes over me.
I love everything about her.
I loveher.
Now I just have to figure out how the hell we’re going to be together without blowing up my hockey career.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Jayne
My first driving lesson is today and I’m a nervous wreck. I don’t work at the library until later, and the Thunder has the morning off, so West is picking me up and I do my best not to make eye contact with my dad as I make myself a cup of coffee.
“You’d better not be screwing him,” he growls when he hears the Ferrari in the driveway.
I turn and give him a scowl. “Why is everything about sex to you? He’s just being nice. If you’d rather fork out a thousand dollars for me to go to driving school, I can cancel?” I arch a brow.
“You cost me enough money,” he says, scowling back at me. “It doesn’t grow on trees.”
“I know that. So, please stop sexualizing everything. I have zero interest in West and I’m positive he doesn’t like me that way either.”
“You have breasts and a vagina. Of course, he likes you like that.”
