From Paris, in Love by Elodie Colliard EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Elodie Colliard
- Language: English
- Genre:Contemporary Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Two Ghosts
Miles
“Ow, fuck!”
The blow came out of nowhere and knocked the wind out of me. I roll
my back to soften the fall, but it does little against the hard, wet ground, and
I hear the harsh sound of my shoulder cracking. Shit. I was so sure I could
make the try. Still holding the ball tight against my chest, I wait for the
inevitable heap of bodies to pile on top of me, trying as best as I can to
cover my bruised shoulder. Freaking Ty. He could have spared me this.
Could have tackled me at the waist to keep me from falling face-first in the
grass, or even better, just let me run and score this one?
But no. “Gotta play the game, Miles.” No regard for the fact that our
Tuesday rugby nights are only supposed to help us blow off steam, not
compete in the national league.
Under the weight of several six-foot-tall men, I wriggle the ball down
between my legs and free it for my teammates. Scott shouts, “Got it!” and
the weight suddenly lifts off me. I feel my lungs expand again, the air
ruffling my damp hair.
“Feeling thirty-five yet?” Tyler looks down at me, a big grin on his face,
hand extended in my direction.
“Fuck off.” I get up on my own. “I may be older than you by a few
years, but I’m not the one constantly complaining about my knees.”
Tyler puts his hands up, a smile on his lips. “Wow. Low blow, Milesy.
You know I’ve had a bad knee since my surgery.”
I grunt. “Stop calling me that.”
“What?” he taunts. “Milesy? But it’s so cute!”
I roll my eyes. We both turn as victory screams erupt and Scott jogs
back toward us, his bottom lip dripping blood. Hazards of the game.
“Looks like we beat your asses,” I say to Tyler, flashing him my
megawatt smile.
He snorts and pats me on the shoulder. “No thanks to you, old man.
Come on, let’s hit the bench for some water.”
I signal that I’ll join him in a minute and make my rounds, thanking the
rest of my team before they all disappear into the locker room. It’s already 8
p.m., most of them usually head home to their kids and wives right after
practice. Not something either Tyler or I can relate to. My chest squeezes,
but I push the thought away before it starts swirling in my head and I’m
forced to do another forty minutes on the field to release the tension.
Ty is sitting on the bench, knees out wide and elbows lazily resting on
the seat behind him. I head his way, taking in the pinks and oranges
brushing the sky as the night finally sets in. The warmth is finally settling in
Toronto, June’s just around the corner, and the days are getting longer.
Thank fuck. I don’t think I can handle one more day where the sun
disappears at 4 o’clock.
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