Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I rush up the aisle, ready to latch the door, when someone tugs from the other side. The sheer force of their power knocks me back a few steps—it’s Tucker. His spiky blond hair is a mess, sticking up from sleep. He never looks this disheveled, his clothes wrinkled as if he slept in them.
Our eyes meet for a split second. There’s so much pain and anger behind his watery blue irises. I contemplate allowing him into the room. He knows the drill. His eyes beg me, breaking my willpower down, but Professor Frazier isn’t having it.
“Shut the door, Samantha,” he booms from the front of the room. “No exceptions.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Come by the office later, and I’ll see what I can do.”
He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I don’t want any special favors from you.”
There’s so much disdain in his tone. I can’t believe this is the man who told me he loved me last week.
I sit through class, going through the motions, unable to function properly. My heart aches with regret. Tucker looked even angrier than when he first found out. Our time apart hasn’t thawed him one bit.
I missed his last big hockey game. I read online that Tucker and his team are about to play in the Frozen Four Semifinals. New York is close enough that I can take the train to watch him play. Our current situation calls for a grand gesture. I don’t know how to show him I care and am sorry.
Chapter 26
Tucker
Preston is not only off the team but out of the league. Preston ruined his shot after getting into an on-ice fight with Bex’s ex-boyfriend right before the Frozen Four. The team needs Preston. He’s the glue that holds us together. Our mojo is off without him. Everyone on my line feels it, too.
We got this.
I’m up against the boards, fighting for possession of the puck, when a winger blocks my exit, sandwiching me against the Plexiglas. But with my puck-handling skills, I don’t need luck. I’m scrappy enough to create space between me and the player on my right. Just enough time to tap the puck to Trent.
My brother sets off down the ice with the rest of us trailing behind, his only opposition the defenseman crossing his path. Trent switches from his dominant side, sweeping the puck to his left. As he approaches the net, he takes the shot, and the puck slips past the goaltender.
We did it.
Our team is advancing to the Frozen Four Finals. My heart races, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears from the adrenaline rush coursing through my veins. The goal horn is like a dull hum as it blares through the packed rink. Everything around me becomes one giant blur.
Our teammates rush over to Trent and me, pulling us into a group hug. I knew we could do it. After losing Preston, I wasn’t so sure we could pull this off. But we did. Somehow, we put this setback aside and won as a team.
We smack the gloves of our opponents, and afterward, I look into the crowd for Preston. He’s too busy high-fiving Bex to notice me. But what surprises me the most is seeing Sam sitting on the bench next to Jemma.
What is she doing here?
Part of me hates her.
But all of me loves her.
I’m so conflicted by my feelings for Sam.
I haven’t told my friends because they would kill her for selling information to The Queen. I want to understand her situation, though. I know she works hard to make ends meet, but it’s so hard to ignore the facts. She sold me out for money. It hurts like fucking hell every time I think about what she did to me.
Sam raises her hand and mouths something I can’t make out. She’s beautiful, her skin free of makeup, a bright smile on her face. I’ve missed her so fucking much. The pain of her betrayal keeps me from feeling anything other than anger.
I hold up my gloved hand, torn between my love and hate for her.
Does she deserve a second chance?
I never allowed her to explain the situation to me.
Maybe I should hear her out.
On Monday after class, I wait for Sam’s office hours to open before I stop by to see her. I stand in the entryway and knock on the door.
Startled, she jumps, clutching her chest. “Tucker,” she breathes. “You scared me. I wasn’t expecting anyone for another hour.”
“I know. I checked your calendar online.”
She sinks into the leather chair and nods for me to sit. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I get comfortable in the chair and drop my bag on the floor at my feet. “Thanks for coming this weekend.”
She smiles. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything in the world. I really am sorry, Tucker.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I’m trying so hard to forgive you. I love you, Sam. I want this to work, but we can’t have any more secrets.”