Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“There she is!” Evan calls when he sees us advancing.
I’d texted him that Crosby was in tow so there’s no surprise. I had also told Evan about us yesterday after I left Crosby’s house, figuring he was the one person who needed to know now that the cat was out of the bag.
I break away from Crosby long enough to hug everyone in turn, simultaneously making introductions.
“This is Mara,” I say, gesturing to a woman with high cheekbones and a sleek bob, dressed like she stepped out of a fashion editorial. “She’s a stylist to the stars.” I then turn to Caleb, giving him a hug. “And this is Caleb who’s one of the best documentary editors in the business.”
Crosby shakes his hand as Caleb waves off the praise. “Juno is the documentary royalty in this crowd.”
I turn to the petite brunette with oversized glasses, and we engage in a long hug. “And this is Nina, my roommate my last year here. She’s a script supervisor.”
“And I’m Leo,” my last friend says, already grinning at Crosby. “Lifelong LA Demons fan, but I’m honestly going to fan-crush on you. You’re one of the league’s best goalies.”
Crosby chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Leo.”
Crosby and I scoot in on a couch with Nina and order drinks. The conversation takes off with all curiosity aimed at Crosby. He gets peppered with a hundred questions about hockey, about road trips, about Winnipeg.
Leo is visibly trying not to go fan-stupid on him and failing spectacularly. He leans forward in his chair, eyes pinned on Crosby. “I still can’t believe the Titans pulled it off last year. I mean, that run? Ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Crosby says, easy. “They caught fire at the right time. Depth showed up when it mattered.”
Leo nods eagerly. “Exactly. People kept talking about the stars, but it was the second and third lines doing just as much damage. And their goaltending—” He stops himself, glances at Crosby. “No offense.”
Crosby grins. “None taken. I’m a fan of good goaltending too and Kace Elliot is incredible.”
I watch Leo relax a little more with every exchange, the nerves melting as soon as Crosby talks shop instead of deflecting it. Crosby’s body language is open—shoulders loose, like this is simply another conversation he’s happy to be having.
Leo tilts his head, considering Crosby for a second. “Okay, I’ve been sitting on this question.”
Crosby smirks. “That usually means it’s either really good or really dumb.”
“Little of both,” Leo admits. “Who’s the best winger in the league right now? Or,” he amends quickly, “the one you hate going up against the most.”
Crosby doesn’t answer right away. He rolls his shoulders once, thinking, then lets out a short breath.
“Grizz McAvoy,” he says. “New York Vipers.”
Leo’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Dead serious,” Crosby says. “He’s strong on the puck, doesn’t panic, and he’s patient in a way that’s annoying as hell. You think you’ve got the angle, and then—” He snaps his fingers. “He’s already changed lanes.”
Leo nods hard. “Yeah. He waits goalies out.”
“Exactly,” Crosby says. “Makes you move first. And once you do, he’s got hands good enough to punish you for it.”
I watch Leo light up, the fan in him barely contained again. “So he’s not hype.”
Crosby shakes his head. “Nope. He earns every inch of ice. Guys like that keep you honest.”
There’s no bitterness in his tone, only respect. It’s one of the things I’m starting to notice about him. He doesn’t tear other players down to build himself up. He talks about the game like someone who loves it.
Leo grins. “That’s the answer I was hoping for.”
Crosby chuckles. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear that.”
I smile to myself, watching Crosby lean back, relaxed, completely at ease with my friends.
I catch myself smiling, not because of the hockey talk—but because of how natural this looks. Crosby isn’t guarded or closed off. He’s engaged, listening, joking. He fits into the group without trying, like he’s been here all along.
It’s because he’s a genuine, down-to-earth guy, and that’s frankly hot as hell.
“And hey,” Leo adds, sheepish again, “if you ever want an unbiased fan opinion—”
Crosby cuts in smoothly. “You’ll give it anyway.”
Leo laughs, fully busted. “Absolutely.”
Crosby laughs with him and takes a sip of his drink before glancing around the table with an easy smile. “Okay,” he says. “Enough about hockey.” That gets everyone’s attention and his gaze turns to me. “I want to know more about Juno.”
My stomach drops. “Oh no.”
Mara’s face lights up. “Oh yes.”
I shake my head. “This is a terrible idea.”
Crosby looks amused, eagerly awaiting whatever version of me they’re about to hand over. “What’s she like when the cameras are off?”
Caleb doesn’t hesitate. “Relentless.”
I reach across the table and try to slap him, missing by a few inches. “Hey—”
“She once convinced a professor to let her reshoot an entire final project,” he continues, undeterred, “after the deadline, after grades were posted, because she decided the story deserved better.”