Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Her dad is overprotective because of Kellan, and since he plays hockey for Boston College, her dad still faces him on the ice every year. The reminder of Kellan never fades for Bex and her dad.
I frown at the thought of Kellan. “It’s been four years.”
“I can’t undo my mistakes.” She sniffs as if fighting back tears.
I get the urge to hug her, though I know Bex would push me away. My best friend has a rough exterior. She acts as though she needs no one. Sometimes, she confesses that Kellan still has a hold on her. For as long as I’ve known Bex, the memories of her past have messed with her head.
He controls her life when he’s no longer in it. But the scars are still there. That’s why I worry about her hanging out with Preston Parker. However, I am excited at the promise of Bex moving on with someone new. It’s about time she dates. She’s allowed Kellan to keep her from living her life for too long.
I cup her shoulder. “I’m sorry, babe.”
She sighs. “Kellan was—”
“An ass,” I finish for her.
Once we reach the parking garage, Bex removes a set of keys from her bag and clicks the remote to open her dad’s car.
She retrieves a men’s leather wallet from the cup holder. “I have to run this over to my dad. It won’t take long. Do you want to tag along? We can grab something to eat from the cafeteria afterward.”
My nose wrinkles in disgust. I hate eating in the cafeteria. They serve only junk and fried crap that ruins my mojo for basketball. And the last time I let someone talk me into going to the cafeteria, Drake knocked me on the floor and then acted like a pig.
“No, to cafeteria food. A definite hell yeah to sneaking a peek at the men’s ice hockey practice.”
“Awesome.” She shuts the door with a smile and locks the car. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to face the guys alone, especially not Preston.”
“Are you kidding me? As if you even had to ask.”
Because Drake will be there.
She chuckles. “Don’t act like this around the guys. Their egos are big enough.”
“Gotcha. Don’t feed the players,” I quip. “Duly noted.”
She shakes her head, entertained by my usual goofy comments. Someone has to lighten up the mood. Bex can be such a downer sometimes.
We reach the ice rink on the other side of campus five minutes later. Before we enter, I fix the dark strands falling in my face with my fingers. I look like a mess, my forehead coated in sweat and my hair a little frizzy from the unusual heat. I’m from Southern California and used to warmer weather, but not the humidity. Why is it so hot this late in the year?
I remove my pink gloss from the inner pocket of my bag and apply a thin layer to my lips, smacking them together loudly as I look over at Bex. She’s a real tomboy. Anything to do with makeup or hair scares the crap out of her. It’s as if she’s allergic to anything girly.
I turn to face Bex, greeted by a strange stare as she takes in my features. “How do I look?”
“Fine.” Her tone is devoid of emotion. “Stop worrying about your appearance. A guy should like you even on your worst day. Otherwise, he’s not worth your time.”
“I wish I could be more like you, Bex. You never care what anyone thinks of you.”
She shrugs. “It’s simple. People will either like you the way you are or hate you for it. You know what my dad says about opinions and assholes.”
Realizing she’s right, I laugh and open the door where hot hockey players practice on the other side. “I’ll try to find my inner Bex.”
Be like Bex, I chant a few times under my breath, mimicking the Be Like Mike slogan from Michael Jordan’s Gatorade commercial from the 90s.
“You’re the only girl I know who would show her face around a bunch of popular guys with a bloody lip and no makeup.”
Bex rolls her eyes. “I haven’t worn makeup since my dad made me wipe it off my face in my sophomore year of high school. Anyway, who cares if I busted my lip open? I wear it like a badge of honor. I wasn’t about to let Stacey Weaver get to the net.”
“Instead, you guarded her so hard she ended up dropping bows on you like you’re in the UFC.”
Laughter shakes through her. “Drop bows? You sound like a lunatic.”
“What? Haven’t you ever seen a spinning back elbow? It’s sweet. That’s basically what Stacy did to your face.”
My older brother, Shaun, loves the UFC. So do I. We learned everything from my dad, a retired United States Marine Corps Colonel. We moved to a new duty station every few years until I was in high school. Over the years, my dad trained Shaun and me in mixed martial arts and other defensive techniques.