Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Mila raises an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Lucky continues without missing a beat, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you both slipped away from the table to make out in a dark hallway, thinking you were being slick about it, but we’d all know what was going on.”
Mila tosses her head toward Jackson. “Pretty sure security has that on lockdown.”
“Exactly.” He grins. “Makes it all the more forbidden.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve been watching too much TikTok. Your brain has turned to mush.”
“Guilty,” he says, totally unbothered. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. I’m keeping a tally of how many times you glance at each other like you’re in a rom-com.”
“Oh God,” Mila mutters and I can’t help but smile at her.
“That’s three, by the way,” Lucky adds, pointing between us, calling out the way we’re looking at each other right at this moment. “Keep it up and I’m posting a compilation video set to dramatic love ballads.”
“You do and I’m blocking you,” I deadpan, although I don’t even have TikTok nor do I really know much about it.
“Worth it,” Lucky says with a wink.
“Did you two date back when you played for the Wraiths?” This from Atlas, and oddly, his question doesn’t seem overly personal. More like he just wants to understand. “Like, before everything happened?”
“No way,” Mila says with faux disdain. “I was only fifteen and he was seventeen. He was way out of my league and I barely registered to him.”
“That’s not true,” I say, not even trying to play it cool because she was fucking gorgeous even at that young age. “But you liked Nathan.”
“I did,” she admits with a fond smile, and I’m glad to see she’s not mired in grief. Just sweet memories. “He was funny. A goofball, really.”
I should be jealous because I’m not funny nor a goofball and she seems to like those traits, but I’m weirdly charmed by the innocence of her attraction to Nathan.
“That’s hilarious,” Rafferty mutters.
“What’s hilarious?” I ask, ready to defend Mila’s young love with Nathan.
Rafferty shakes his head, holds out a palm. “I just… it’s funny she thought you were out of her league, because if anyone’s out of their league now…”
I look again at Mila, and yeah… she’s definitely in an elite league. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say, draping my arm around Mila’s shoulders in our first public display of affection. “Hopefully she’ll keep me around when this is all said and done.”
“You’ve got a good chance,” King points out with a smirk. “You don’t seem to be an asshole anymore.”
All the guys bust out laughing and I can’t be mad about that. I deserve it.
“I don’t know about the asshole part,” Lucky muses. “I apparently missed that part of Penn’s life, but now you’re into each other. That’s all that matters. I mean, look at you two—so cozy.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, rubbing a hand down my face.
Mila laughs. “He’s right. It is cozy.”
Lucky beams. “Speaking of cozy—I’m workshopping my next TikTok idea.”
Everyone groans and Rafferty tosses a wadded-up napkin at Lucky, which bounces off his forehead. He ignores it and our collective sighs over his silly ideas. “So anyway… I’m thinking of creating a series called ‘Ice-Bath Confessionals.’”
“What the fuck?” Atlas barks.
Lucky nods. “Yeah… imagine it. Hockey player in the ice bath after a practice or game. Raw, moody lighting, existential quotes with dramatic music in the background.”
“You’re kidding,” Atlas says.
“Not kidding,” Lucky quips with a side-eye his way. “At any rate, the player sits in his ice bath and confesses something. It could be hockey related, like… I was the one who put Biofreeze in your jockstrap, or totally random… I cried watching The Notebook last week.”
Mila giggles beside me, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Think about it,” Lucky drones on. “It would be hilarious, offbeat and with just a hint of vulnerability. Think Hot Ones meets Real World confessional, but in freezing cold water.”
“Jesus,” King says with a laugh. “Where do you get this stuff?”
“And if that doesn’t appeal, then I had another idea.” Lucky continues, excitement pouring off him. “A series called ‘Mic’d Up—Fantasy Style.’ I’ll record snippets of players during practice or warm-ups—just casual banter, chirping, trash talk, whatever—then compile the best into a weekly Monday post. But the kicker is, I’ll do funny narration over the video in like a fantasy style.”
“Fantasy style?” Mila asks, sitting forward with rapt attention.
“Yeah. Like, imagine Penn wrapping his stick with tape, and the voiceover would be something like, ‘The mighty warrior Navarro prepares his battle stick for the upcoming war with the Kingdom of Detroit.’”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” King doubles over with laughter. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Oh, I never kid about content,” Lucky says with mock solemnity. “I’m building a brand. You think this face is gonna play hockey forever?”