Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
To be honest, I’ve only dropped by the dorm lately to check on Megan and grab some clothes. Basically, we’ve already been living together, but making it official is different.
I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
What if things don’t work out and he kicks me out? That’s my worst nightmare.
“Go Price!!”
My attention is drawn back to the present as Megan shouts Ryder’s last name, then erupts in loud cheers when he checks an opponent, snatches the puck, and scores. Then he raises his stick in our direction.
“OMG!” She shakes my shoulders and then hugs me. “Did you see that?”
“Everyone did.” I smile as I hug her back.
“He’s amazing!” She lowers her voice. “Aside from fucking like a porn star.”
I hit her shoulder jokingly. Let’s just say Megan hasn’t been in the dorm much either and is now attending a hockey game of her own volition.
We have the best seats in Vipers Arena, thanks to Kane and Ryder, and ever since we got here, my friend has been hyping up the entire crowd. This is coming from Megan, who used to claim that the Stanton Wolves were the strongest team in the league.
“Who let the trash in?” Isabella says loud enough for us to hear.
The worst part about having the best seats, which are usually reserved for family and friends, is being forced to share space with Isabella and her goons.
She’s sitting behind us with her friends and has been talking shit throughout the game.
Megan ignores her, sometimes even going quiet, until Ryder touches the puck again.
I was going to ignore her, too, but I need to put assholes in their place. So I turn and smile at her. She glares.
“Do you mind shutting up?” I shout over the cheers. “I can hear your bitterness.”
Her face contorts, and I blow her a kiss, grinning wide.
As I’m about to focus back on the game, I catch the gaze of an older man, probably in his late twenties to early thirties. He’s standing at the farthest, highest part of the seating area, both hands in his pockets, as if he wants to have a full view of the rink.
His dark gray suit stands out against the fan gear and hockey jerseys most people are wearing. And he’s staring. No, glaring?
What the hell?
There’s an impassiveness to him. An unsettling presence that makes my blood run cold.
It feels like I’ve seen him before. But where?
I run my gaze over his frosty features and then pause. It’s the eyes. They look distinctively familiar.
“Why are you staring?” Megan pulls on my jersey. “Don’t go asking for trouble, D.”
“Who’s that?” I ask. “Is he related to Jude?”
“Yeah. That’s Julian. His older brother.”
Oh. So that’s the Julian who Serena Osborn was searching for at that Vencor event. He’s definitely one of the hotshots in the organization.
But why was he glaring at me?
Have I perhaps seen him somewhere before?
“How do you know him?” I ask Megan.
“Everyone does. He’s the face of the Callahans’ multibillion-dollar pharmaceutical sector monopoly.” She surveys our surroundings and then whispers in my ear, “Some people are saying he’s forcing his dad into early retirement and there’s an internal Callahan power struggle.”
I steal another look behind me and see Julian walking out with none other than Grant.
My heart squeezes and I develop an irrational hatred for Julian. Anyone who’s friends with fucking Grant Davenport is on my shit list.
The crowd’s cheers bring me back to the game. Megan takes my hand in hers and jumps up and down as Preston scores after some impressive team play.
My entire attention is on Kane. He looks his best when he’s on the rink—free, in a sense. He still plays with immaculate control, but he lets go on the ice and glides within the defense’s lines with infinite technical prowess.
I love seeing him in his element.
I love how he subtly but firmly directs the team.
How quickly he realizes when one of his teammates is off and offers silent support.
Kane never blames the others for a loss, even during practice, even when Preston had that awful game against the Wolves. When I asked him why he didn’t make it clear to Preston that he fucked up, he simply said, “Our bond is stronger than a mere game.”
So I’ve tried not to talk a lot of shit about Preston online. What? He’s still an antagonistic bastard and I’m part of his hate club.
He’s definitely a hockey prince, though. I can’t deny that, especially since I started working for the team.
Anyone can tell that Kane, Jude, and Preston are an unstoppable trio. They effortlessly make passes between themselves without prior communication to the point that the other players struggle to keep up with them.
Helena said the three of them grew up together, so it makes sense that they’re so aware of each other.
However, I still wince at Jude’s aggressive nature. Sometimes, even Kane finds it hard to control him.