Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Are you done?”
“Sure.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze before dropping his hand. What is wrong with people today? The only time I want anyone touching me or me touching them is on the ice.
“That’s the normal uniform,” Eli says, coming to stand next to me. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there?” He nods to the stage. I don’t answer stupid questions.
Who would approve of this uniform? This is high school, not a brothel. I run my hand down my face because I’ve lost my goddamn mind. Why the fuck is this bothering me all of a sudden? That was a rhetorical question that I don’t need an answer to. Not even from myself because I know the reason.
“You okay, man?” Grant asks under his breath to me.
“We’re not friends.”
“Sure we are.” The fucker winks at me.
“See if you’re saying that come tomorrow during practice,” I warn. Gonna lay his ass out when he least expects it to prove my point.
“Are you flirting with me, Luke? I mean, you’re not bad if you’re into the bad boy vibe, but I’m straight.” He won’t be anything straight here in a second by the time I’m done with him. “But I’m flattered, and I hope this won’t change our friendship.”
“Fuck off.” A small chuckle leaves me. He’s annoyingly funny, but I’m not trying to encourage it.
“I’m only teasing you. Go back to staring at the girl with the braid.”
“I wasn’t staring.”
“Of course you weren’t. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” It will be safe as hell if he’s six foot under. “Plus, I don’t blame you for it. She must be new here, but she’s smokin’.” I want to tell him to shut the fuck up and never to talk about her again. Not to think about her or even look at her for that matter, but I keep my mouth shut and ball my hands into fists instead once again. “Gonna break your jaw if you keep clenching it so tight.”
“All right.” I turn toward him. Fuck it. I’m not waiting for practice.
“I’m messing with you.” Grant holds his hands up, palms out. “Not my type.” I glance back to the girl. She’s everyone’s type.
Her long, dark, shiny braid falls over one shoulder. I have the strange urge to wrap it around my hand and smell it. I know she smells sweet like vanilla but with a hint of spice to it. I can’t stop watching her and taking in all the details.
Those full lips and small nose are begging to be kissed. The fuck? Kiss the tip of her nose? I break noses. I have lost my mind, and I’m going to keep on losing it. The top she’s wearing is long-sleeved and goes up to the collarbone; the problem is, it ends right under her tits, which I know would be a perfect handful for me.
Then there’s that damn skirt. I don’t know if it’s short because that’s how it is or it’s those long legs of hers that go on forever. She tilts her head slightly as she talks to Paige, smiling. She appears so innocent, but I know that mouth of hers isn’t.
When I see Caleb spot her, I remember him running his mouth about banging all the new girls. “Breathe, dude; he’s not going to fuck her on stage.” Grant runs his fingers through his hair. “Right, shit, okay, it’s Caleb, so maybe.” I only got the sheriff off my ass hours ago.
“I’m two seconds from taking my aggression out on you,” I tell him.
“It’s starting.” Grant is unfazed by my threat, nodding toward the stage.
I don’t hear what the coach says. I’m watching her watch everyone else. She curiously takes people in, her eyes roaming across the crowd. I still wince when they make it to me. They instantly know: That soft smile she has on her dark pink lips evaporates, her eyes narrowing. Fuck you, asshole, she mouths.
If she thinks that glare or mouth of hers bothers me, she’s in for a reckoning. God knows I am.
Chapter Five
MADELINE
My last school was football heavy, which was never my thing. It’s why I was never a traditional cheerleader. That and the fact that I love being on the ice. I guess most people would consider being on the Ice Crew the same sort of thing. We’re there to hype up the crowd but also to clean parts of the ice during time outs and stoppage.
When I was younger, before Dad owned his mechanic shop, money was always extra tight. In the winters, we’d spend our time going skating together. No matter what was going on in my world, once I stepped onto any sort of ice, I felt free. All you needed was a lake and skates. And also hope that you didn’t skate over a fisherman’s ice hole.