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Spencer

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Spencer

A rush of cold air wakes me in the morning. 

Groaning, I reach my hand out and feel around for the covers. When I can't find them, I roll over and peek through my lashes. The rays of sun shining through the windows make my eyes ache. I blink several times before they adjust. When they do, I see Lennon standing above me.

I frown, wishing I had something to throw at him. "What the fuck, Lennon?"

Lennon leans over, and something thumps against the nightstand. Then a soft fabric lands on my face. "Here's your protein smoothie and a T-shirt. You can have coffee on our way to Disneyland. Now get your ass moving. I have one day off before we play Anaheim. I want to use it for a mini vacation."

"You decided Disneyland would be the place? We've been there before."

He crosses his arms and snorts. "It's the happiest place on Earth. We were seven, Spence. Seven. We need to make more memories." When I don't move, Lennon gives my shoulders a shake. "Come on! I want to meet Donald Duck."

My eyebrows furrow. I shift into a sitting position and press my back against the headboard, still feeling the effects of travel. Toronto is three hours ahead of the West Coast. My schedule is fucked up, and our brief side trip isn't helping. After last night's game in Los Angeles, Lennon and I packed our suitcases and grabbed an Uber over to Anaheim. Although I slept for most of the drive, it was a restless sleep.

"You sound like a passive-aggressive child," I say.

Lennon rolls his eyes. "Says the one who wants to blame the time difference. And don't deny it, Spence." He taps his temple. "Twin telepathy."

I skewer him with a glare. "And mine's telling me you're about to die."

He chuckles and gives my knee a squeeze. "Get ready. I'll grab coffee so it's ready when you're ready. Sound good?"

The longer I stare at Lennon, the harder it is to suppress a smile. I thought of Disneyland when I heard we had a day off between hockey games. I want some churros and caramel sauce. One of those phenomenal vegan taco things Jillian Harris shared on her Instagram account. I also want to hit every ride possible. Especially the Matterhorn, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Space Mountain.

"Fine," I say.

Lennon's smile is brighter than the sun. "Meet me downstairs in twenty."

Gathering his wallet, sunglasses and phone, Lennon exits the room. When the door clicks, I flop against the pillows again, releasing a deep breath. The last few days have been stressful. Ever since the fashion show, work, social outings, and Chase have been my points of focus. Work's the simple part. Writing up a blog, interviewing hockey players, posting photos on Instagram—simple. On the downside, my job is busy. It limits social time with my friends.

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