More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Bruce has dirty-blond hair and blue eyes full of mischief, everything about him is cheery and bright. Like a burly Christmas elf.
He’s like the comfort show you turn on after a long day, the show everyone’s in the mood for and can quote incessantly. West is the FRIENDS of the team. And I hate him for it.
But it’s also a reminder that I’m the troublemaker of the group… the unlovable one.
🥺
My scant amount of self-control instantly shatters, just like his face is about to.
“What makes you think that me working with children would be a good idea? I don’t even like humans that are fully grown.”
Aaron stares at me like I’m an alien from another planet who has never spoken to children before. Have I?
He gave me the most skilled kids… but also the cocky bastards of the group. Well played, Aaron.
The group snickers. “What’s the magic word?” A boy with blond hair asks, batting his lashes obnoxiously. “Now?” All of them cross their arms in unison, like they practiced this ahead of time. The thought terrifies me.
I begin memorizing the last names on the backs of their jerseys, so I know who to yell at. Except Freckles, that’s now his name permanently, whether he likes it or not.
I was wrong, her eyes aren’t furious, they’re blazing. Blondie is pissed. At me.
No, he’s not handsome in the typical sense of the word, but in a way all his own.
That familiar feeling of why can’t I be normal creeps into my thoughts.
“Oh, I would not, and you know it! Admiring God’s creation is one thing… climbing it is another.”
He doesn’t smell bad like he should. He smells like a fresh mountain waterfall, which is really irritating. He should smell like B.O. or burning hair. Something horrible to match his grouchiness.
I stand abruptly, my conscience reminding me to keep my distance from anyone who makes me feel… anything.
oh he is in so much trouble
I can’t do this. Can’t sit here and talk to this man I barely know about the ghosts of my past, week after week. This is a special kind of torture. Do people actually do this voluntarily?!
I feel like a caged animal again, like that freaking circus tiger. Like everyone and everything is circling around me, waiting for me to either jump through that damn hoop, or go rogue and gobble up the circus performer.
he’s working with the smaller kids, the ones who are still cute and not sweaty mongrels.
The entire place is dim and grey, worn out from all the kids and skaters coming in and out of the rink. But Andie is the bright spot in this place, shining like the sun on a dreary day. Okay, a really mouthy sun.
Her cheeks pinken, and damn if it’s not the cutest look on her. I wish she’d smile again so I could see her dimple.
“You do that, and I’ll have to throw you over my shoulder again,” I say, lowering my voice. What has gotten into me? Who is this smiling, flirtatious guy and where did the intolerable asshole go? I want him back.
“She’s the crazy lady who yelled at me on my first day of coaching!” All four of them erupt into laughter. Bruce and Colby have literal tears streaming down their faces. Remy shakes his head, smirking. “Mitch ‘The Machine’ Anderson.” He pins me with a serious look. “I think you’ve met your match.”
“You look so much like her.” Tears fill my eyes, knowing he’s referring to Mom. “Sometimes it’s hard to look at you, it just makes me miss her so much.” His voice is barely above a whisper and his admission absolutely breaks my heart.
No, if he was really into someone, he’d be all, this is my woman. No one touches her.
“Right,” I mutter to myself, feeling like an idiot. Noah is braver and more mature at eleven than I am at twenty-eight.
“It’s okay if you do, I won’t laugh,” Noah offers, then adds, “That’s what Andie always tells me anyway. But I might laugh a little if you cry.”
I shake my head and he grins. “So, what else have you learned in therapy? Anything good?” His grin widens. “Oh, young grasshopper, I have so much to teach you.” That brings another smile to my face. Who needs Dr. Curtis when you have Dr. Noah?
“When I told you you needed to go on a date, I didn’t mean with a roguish professional athlete whose temper could rival the god of the underworld.”
lol
“I’m gonna head out. You behave yourself.” She waves me off, then walks down the hallway to let herself out the front door. I yell, “Well-behaved women rarely make history, Ronda. Or get to ride off into the sunset with a hot, inked manly man!” “I’m ignoring you!” she yells back, then I hear the click of the door.
What’s wrong with beards? Andie I LOVE beards. I’d grow one if I could. I cringe. Why am I so weird? big man Please don’t.
lol
“This is your life now, Andie, live it, and live it well,”
Her blonde hair is in a crazy pony-tail right on top of her head, and she’s wearing white, fuzzy socks that come up over her knees. She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.
She gasps and pins him with the meanest look she can muster. But it looks more like the face of a cute, angry kitten. “Have you no loyalty!?”
“How is me laughing crazier than Andie not knowing who Wayne Gretzky is?” I ask no one in particular.
“I wasn’t crying!” I yell after him. He ignores me.
they are too cute
Meanwhile, for me, the feel of his hand on mine will linger for days. I’ll dream about that big, grumpy hand.
But of course, he doesn’t stumble, or trip, or anything. He struts away like a magnificent peacock.
Noah is smirking at me, similar to the way Mitch just did. “Your face is all red again.” “Shut up.”
Maybe the man just needs a good hug. Goosebumps break out along my arms just thinking about wrapping my arms around him… it’s like my senses are screaming, we volunteer! We volunteer as tribute!
This one also has Anderson on the back, because I’d die before I saw this woman wear anyone’s jersey but mine.
The way our hands fit together sends a warmth through my body, like déjà vu. Like I’ve dreamed of this girl, this moment, my entire life and it finally came to fruition. “I wanted to do this last night at the game,” I whisper. “Do what?” “Hold your hand.”
And I feel safe. I feel hope. Because we’re all a little broken… and we’re all healing.
Because family looks different for everyone. Sometimes it’s not the family you’re born into, but the one you build. The one you work for. And this is mine.
