Mile High: Special Edition (Windy City #1)

I can’t stop now, and I don’t care.

“Are you kidding me?” My voice is shaky and raised, causing Zanders to pop his head around the corner, checking on me. “Maybe I don’t want kids. Maybe I don’t want to get married. Maybe I don’t want to do any of the things you’ve expected of me.”

“Well, that’s clear. You certainly haven’t done a single thing I expected of you.”

“You’re right, Mom. I’m such a disappointment, aren’t I? Because I’d rather volunteer at a dog shelter than stay home and play Stepford wife. Or because I’d rather shop at a thrift store than wear whatever shit you and all your pretentious friends wear. Or maybe I’m a disappointment because I don’t want to marry the guy who used me for three years while he was bored. I’m sorry I don’t want to be his option anymore, Mom, but I’m done with both of you making me feel like I’m not enough. I’m really done with anyone who makes me feel that way.”

“Stevie, I—”

My mother can’t continue because Zanders quickly walks behind the computer and closes the laptop on her.

“What are you doing?!” I’m still fired up, the energy flowing through my bones. I want to keep going. I want to say everything that’s ever been on my mind. I have no idea where this is coming from, but now I can’t stop.

“I’m stopping her.” Zanders’ voice is calm and centered. “You said what you needed to say, and from what I could tell, anything she had in rebuttal, I wouldn’t want to hear. Until she learns how to speak to you, she’s not going to. At least, not in my house.”

I take a few deep breaths, calming myself. Or at least trying to.

“Are you okay?” he softly asks.

“She’s such a bitch.”

A laugh heaves from his chest. “Yeah, she is. But are you okay?”

I exhale a long deep breath. “Yeah, actually, I am. That felt good.”

“Hell yeah, it did. That’s my girl.”

I would like to say I don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but that would be a lie. It’s thanks to a 6'5" hockey player covered in tattoos and gold jewelry who doesn’t let me forget my worth.

“I just want her to accept me for who I am, and the fact that her approval, or lack thereof, bothers me so much is infuriating.”

“Not to get all preachy on you, Vee, but the right people, the ones who deserve to be in your life, they’re going to accept you for exactly who you are. That’s something I’ve quickly learned lately.”

My head tilts to the side, my expression softening and my previous anger dissipating. “I accept you for who you are.”

He scrunches his nose before taking the seat next to me and urging me from my chair, guiding me to sit across his lap. “I know you do.” That comes with a quick kiss. “And I accept you, but more importantly than all of that, at some point, you’re going to need to accept yourself.”

Ugh, this man. “Okay, Mr. Almost a Decade of Therapy.” I hide away in his neck, my voice muffled against his skin. “I do accept myself.”

He pulls away, forcing me to look him in his hazel eyes. “Do you?”

Nodding, I quietly add, “I do actually, yeah. I’ve started to accept that my body is different than the girls I grew up with, and that’s okay. And I’ve embraced my curly hair compared to what I thought I once wanted. I’ve just spent so much time with people who made me feel like I wasn’t good enough or I didn’t look the way they wanted me to that I didn’t think I was allowed to like it. But I’m starting to.”

The softest, most proud grin spreads across Zanders’ lips as he looks at me.

“Not all the time,” I continue. “There are a lot of days where I’m still uncomfortable in my skin, but that used to be every day. That’s not the case anymore.”

He moves the mess I like to call my morning hair away from my face. “Progress, Vee.”

“Progress,” I agree.

“One day, I hope you can fully appreciate the body you’re living in because, sweetheart, it’s smoking hot, and my dick has never been happier.”

“Jesus.” I fall back with a laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“You’re obsessed with me. Admit it.” He covers my neck and cheek with kisses. “Hey, I’m getting a new number, so I’ll text you with it later, okay?”

“Because of your mom?”

Zanders’ expression goes blank and rigid before he nods in agreement.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?”

“Not really, no.”

I shoot him an understanding smile. “Okay.”

Zanders hesitates, searching my face before taking a deep breath. “I had a panic attack because I was so angry with her for everything. For calling me, for leaving me when I was a teenager, for trying to come back into my life because of my paychecks. I don’t have them often, but if I get really upset and I can’t think straight, sometimes I fall into them.”

I keep my arms wrapped around his neck.

“Does that freak you out?” he cautiously asks. “Maybe I should chill out on telling you absolutely everything. That’s a lot to put on you.”

My brows crease in confusion. “What? No, of course not. I think it’s probably the most attractive thing about you, your openness towards your mental health.”

“More attractive than my smoking hot bod, or, as you moaned multiple times last night, my award-winning dick?” His smile could not be more smug.

“Almost as attractive as your humble personality,” I deadpan. “And your mom is the absolute worst, Zee.”

“So is yours.”

I rest my head on his shoulder. “Look at us,” I tease. “Trauma-bonding.”

His body shakes below mine in a silent laugh. “Yesterday, I realized I think I’m mad at her for hurting my dad, and to be honest, I’ve never thought about it from his perspective before.”

“Have you talked to him?”

“Not since Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still angry with him, but not as angry as I thought. I’ve been selfish, thinking it was only me who got hurt when it was his wife who left him too. I’m confused about how I feel even as I say it.”

I lightly scratch the skin under his tightly faded haircut. “Progress,” I repeat his earlier words.

His hazel eyes shine in understanding. “Progress.”

He hides his face in my neck. “What do you think about maybe coming to my games?”

“Zee,” I tease, pulling his face away and making him look at me. “So official. Are you asking me to go steady?”

“Yes.” He pops a kiss on my lips.

“Do you really think that’s the best idea? I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve never had someone to come cheer for me besides my sister, and it could be nice.”

Understanding floods me. “Then I’ll be there.”

“Yeah?” He beams with hope.

“Yeah, but I need to sit away from the ice where no cameras could catch me in the background. We need to be smart about this.”

“Okay.” His smile is giddy and childish, his perfect teeth unable to hide. “I’ve never had someone to give my season tickets to. I’ll make sure they’re away from the ice. You just make sure your sexy ass is wearing my jersey.”

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