Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Extra Credit
Carter
Nothing felt better than walking out of the locker room after a win at home.
Nothing… except the fact that Livia would be waiting for me in the friends and family room.
I usually skipped that room when I left the stadium. It was where I’d wave goodbye to Vince or Will or whoever else as they veered left to greet their loved ones, and I headed right to the parking lot.
But tonight, Livia had been in the suite with Maven. And now, she was in that friends and family room.
And okay, so she wasn’t really waiting for me. Technically, she was just there with her best friend. But it didn’t change the fact that I’d played my ass off in an attempt to impress her, or that I’d looked up in the seats for her after every goal, or that I was practically skipping down the hallway on my way to find her now.
I’d been playing it cool all week. I’d text her, but not too much. I’d reply to her texts, but not too quickly. I checked in on how her days were going without hovering or acting like a boyfriend.
Because I was not her boyfriend — and she would be quick to remind me that if I ever forgot.
But it’d been torture, being away from her after what we’d shared on Friday night. And now, I’d just wrapped up our last game before we had a long break for the 4 Nations Face-Off. It was the league’s new stand-in for what used to be the All-Star games, and though I hoped to play in the tournament one day for Team Canada, I was happy I wasn’t invited this year.
Because I could think of many better ways to spend the next two weeks, and every single one of them involved Livia Young.
“Fabri.”
The call of my name came from behind just as I was about to swing into the room, and I found Coach still dressed in his game suit with a grin on his face.
“Hell of a game tonight,” he said, clapping his hand hard on my shoulder. “I saw something in you I’ve never seen before. You had grit. Stamina. Determination. You played like it was a playoff game. You left everything on the ice.” He paused, assessing me. “I knew you had it in you, and I’m glad I got to witness me being right about that.”
My throat was tight when I answered, “Thanks, Coach.”
He nodded, squeezing my shoulder before he released it. “Enjoy your break, but don’t lose this fire you’ve found. Yeah?”
I returned his nod, stomach flipping a bit at just how I’d keep that fire alive. Because I knew it had nothing to do with therapy or practice.
It was Liv who’d lit that flame.
“Hey,” I said when Coach turned toward the parking lot. “What are you doing for break? Going to see family?”
The corner of his lips twitched, but the smile didn’t spread. “Nah, just hanging around the Bay, I imagine. Rest a little. Probably still work most days.”
“You need a break, too, Coach.”
He shrugged. “Hockey is my life, Fabio.”
“Might be time to try dating.”
He full-on laughed at that, saluting me with two fingers before he left me without much of an acknowledgement to my statement.
I frowned, watching him go for a moment, and then Vince was sliding into me.
“Come on, Fabio,” he said, ruffling my hair before slinging an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s go get the girls. I’m dying to see what discount Hallmark line you try on Livvy tonight.”
Will strolled past, tossing a grenade over his shoulder without slowing down. “Yeah, and I’m curious how many seconds it’ll take before she makes you regret speaking.”
A laugh fizzled out of Vince, and though it usually would have bothered me, I just smiled. Let them think what they want. Let them joke and tease.
They didn’t know what happened between us behind closed doors, and I loved holding onto that little secret.
The friends and family room buzzed with post-game chatter, laughter, and the clink of plastic cups. I scanned for her instantly — and there she was.
Livia stood with Maven, Chloe, and Ava, one hand curled loosely around her drink, the other tucked into the pocket of her perfectly tailored slacks. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of a glossy magazine spread — sleek ponytail, blazer cinched at the waist, heels that made my brain short-circuit — but there was something… off. It was just a flicker, a faint dulling in the way her gaze tracked the room, the way her smile lagged behind the conversation.
The other guys made a beeline for their people, but I hung back. Watching her was like wading into seemingly calm water only to realize you’ve walked into a rip current — and I realized quickly there was no hope of fighting it. I’d been trying all week to keep my head above water, to keep my feelings in check. But the second I caught the edges of that dimness in her eyes, the game was over.