Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74956 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“And I wanted to get to the office early and review some game tape before tonight,” I say, reluctantly stepping out of the warm circle of his arms. “The Devil Dolls kicked our asses last year. I want to be sure we’re ready to crush them tonight.”
“You will. Crush them and use their bones to make your bread,” he says as he crosses to let Barb out to her puppy pad on the deck. “The Bushtits are on fire this year. I’m excited to see you guys play again tonight. I’ll grab food by the arena after practice and head right over.”
“Cool, I’ll leave your ticket at will call like last time,” I say, draining my coffee before loading it into the dishwasher. “Oh, and Stone!” I call after him.
He sticks his head back through the sliding door. “Yeah?”
“I love you,” I say, giggling like a goober at the grin that splits his face in response. “We’re so gross,” I add, still laughing as I practically dance toward the bedroom to get dressed.
“So great, you mean,” Stone says, that shameless smile still stretched wide.
It makes me even more excited about my secret, more eager to prove to him that I’m not ashamed, either.
Not even a little bit.
* * *
Eleven hours later, after a day filled with non-stop crisis management and an angsty staff meeting about potential cuts to the billboard advertising budget to pad the digital advertising budget that made all the Gen X staffers deeply uncomfortable, I’m in one of my favorite places on earth.
The Bushtits’ locker room is a concrete block with peeling paint on the walls, battered old lockers, and an ominous damp spot on the ceiling that gets bigger with every passing season, but it’s ours. It’s home, and there’s no better place to be when facing off against your nemesis for the first time since they booty-slapped you on the ice last season.
As I sip my third coffee of the day, I silently rehearse my pep talk, watching my players mill around the space.
Looks like they might not need much “pepping,” though.
There’s an electric current in the air, crackling with potential, power, and confidence. This team is so locked in, so talented and connected.
I can’t wait to see what they do this season.
“All I’m saying is, Juanita’s smack talk last game was inspired,” Kelly announces as she drops onto the bench beside Juanita Costa, our shy but fierce star center. “And the best part is, almost no one knows Portuguese, so Blind Ref can’t say shit about it.”
“You know Portuguese,” Juanita says, blushing as she rolls her eyes. “So does my mom. If she’d heard me, she would have died. I just get so mad when that guy fouls us for every tiny thing, while letting the other team get away with murder.”
“Same.” Kelly wrinkles her nose as she adjusts her shoulder pads. “But that won’t happen tonight. I peeked a few minutes ago. It’s Moustache Ref and Cute Ref tonight, not Blind Ref.”
“Cute Ref can still be a dick sometimes, though,” Cecelia, Flo’s sister, warns.
“Yeah, Moustache Ref, too,” Hannah Murphy calls from her spot between her twin, Hailey, and Prisha, one of my best defenders. “He goes mental over anything he thinks is goaltender interference. So, watch out, Kelly.”
Kelly nods. “I will. I’m so fucking ready. We’re going to send the Devil Dolls back to hell, where they belong.”
Hannah laughs as she pumps a fist into the air. “Hell, yes, we are. This is our year, ladies. We’re going all the way to the championships and bringing that trophy home.”
Watching them, my chest fills with a pride that has nothing to do with wins or losses. This is what I love about this team. The way they look out for each other, hype each other up, and make our locker room such a warm, positive place to be.
Moved to begin my pep-talk, I cross to the center of the space, raising my voice to get their attention, “You know what I love about this team?”
“Our stunning good looks?” Cecelia asks with a flip of her long brown hair.
“Our colorful vocabulary?” Juanita says, blushing again.
“I mean, all of that. Obviously,” I say, with a smile, earning a laugh from the team. “But no, what I love most is that you’ve always got each other’s backs. You’re always thinking about how we can work better together, as a unit, and that’s what’s going to win this game. The trust you’ve earned and given is rare and powerful. And tonight, you’re going to show everyone exactly what that kind of power looks like in action.”
Their eyes spark with recognition, confirming that they feel it too. This special connection, this foundation of mutual respect and friendship, that makes every one of them stronger than they could ever be alone.