The Hockey Star Regret
“Whatever this is. Fantasy? Romance? Giant doorstops with dragons on the cover?”
I gasped dramatically. “Did you just insult The Name of the Wind?”
“I have no idea what that is,” he admitted with zero shame. “But I’m willing to be educated.”
I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him toward the shelves. “You seriously don’t read fiction? At all?”
“Not unless you count playbooks,” he said, trailing after me. “I’m more of a highlights-and-scouting-reports kind of guy.”
“That’s tragic.” I ran my fingers along the spines of well-worn books, pulling one free. “Okay, this, this was my favorite when I was ten. Anne of Green Gables.”