When Lily Langston goes to a game with her best friend. The last thing she ever thought to happen was being hit in the face with a ball.
But what left her even more shocked was when the guest pitcher himself, the known ruthless billionaire Hayes Gr...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
December brought chilling realities. With Christmas around the corner, you realize that nothing is the same as it once was—Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving, and any other holiday to come.
It was a cruel reminder of grief. But things had gotten better, though Hayes was still a bit chilling. Something big had been bothering him recently, and I wasn't sure what.
We finally settled on Vermont after his stubbornness about it. According to Alisha, he didn't want to go, but somehow, Beckham guilted him. She had called me to give me her detailed list of what to pack.
And it was not a lot?
"Look, look," I point to the car in front of us.
"I can see the car; I'm the one operating it, Lily." I shook my head and pointed at the bumper sticker. "Honk, if you love sky diving."
"Honk!"
"No? We don't skydive." He argues.
"I have this theory that I like to test to see if people actually like it, whether you honk or not." He looked at me and then back at the horn.
"That's crazy." He stared at me point blank and then back to the road.
"It's an option; it doesn't say 'don't' honk!" It had been a long ride, totaling two hours and thirty minutes through snow. We were only 18 minutes away, but it seemed like the longest minutes of my life.
"Honk Hayes!" I plead.
"No."
"Please."
"No." His eyes are glued to the road, that same blank stare unwavering.
"Hayes Ple-" he honks the horn, and I smile victoriously.
"Oh shit, they did not want us to honk" I grimace and duck my face down as the car looks over at us. The middle finger was raised, and I couldn't help but giggle.
"See what you've done," he says. I smirk, turning my head out the other window to be greeted by the snow. "It's not the end of the world. Live a little... they asked for it." I assure. I looked back to see him staring at me. "What?"
"You like snow?" He asks.
"Love snow," I counter.
The ski lodge peered behind the trees as we approached it. "This is gorgeous," I uttered, looking back at him, amazed. Beckham owns this?" I asked.
"We both do," he parks the car. "I just don't come up here, really." he opens his car door, shuts it, and goes to the trunk. I step out and make my way towards the trunk.
We were going to fly, but I insisted that driving was the better option. Sitting in a car for two hours with him wasn't fun, nor was the hole burning in our ozone. I made him use one of his electric cars, so his mood wasn't the best.