Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
"Figured. He's a big bully. Luckily for you guys…I'm worse."
Everyone is silent for a moment before they crack up, the tension in the locker room evaporating.
"In all seriousness," she says, taking a deep breath, "getting you guys involved was his idea, but it's not a terrible idea. I'm sure some of you struggled to pay for your education. We have hundreds of thousands of students in the United States in the same boat. A lot of those students are promising athletes. And because they can't afford tuition, most of them never make it to this level."
The league doesn't draft straight from high school often. Usually, it's from a competitive league or a college team, meaning good players get passed up when colleges decide the funding just isn't there to recruit them to the team.
"You don't have to sell it to us," Karsen says from the end of the bench, his voice a soft murmur, "we're on board. Just tell us what you need from us."
She looks at him, a little shocked, as if she expected this to be a tougher sell. And then she takes another breath. "Scholarship funding, for starters. I've run the numbers, and if we want to send one hundred athletes to college per year, we're looking at a minimum of fifty million dollars to fund an endowment."
Madden whistles between his teeth. "Goddamn, that's steep."
"Yeah, it is," she says quietly, meeting his gaze. "And education gets more expensive every year. Which is where you come in. Briggs has agreed to be the face of the Endowment, but his job would be a lot easier with your support. I can provide any information you need on Hearthstone to make your decision, whether it's financials, historical data, information on the students we serve, bios on our board…whatever."
"Don't need it," Karsen growls.
Tia looks at me, her brows furrowed.
"We've already done our homework, sweetness," I murmur. "Did it before I even flew out there."
"Oh," she says.
"We're on board," Karsen tells her again. "If it's fifty million you need, we'll help make sure you get it."
"I can draft pledge forms for you to share, create graphics, whatever you need," she says. "And we'll plaster Briggs' face on everything. It'll take some time to get everything done."
Karsen jerks his chin in a nod. "Let Briggs know what we can do, and you've got it."
"Thank you," she says gratefully, her voice trembling a little. "You guys are about to help change a lot of lives."
As soon as we step outside of the locker room, Tia faceplants into my chest, her entire body shaking. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me.
"I thought that would be a lot harder than it was," she admits.
"Because they're hockey players?"
"Because it's a lot of money." She tilts her head back, looking up at me. "I don't know if you're aware or not, but people with money are usually the hardest to convince to part with it."
"Maybe, but a lot of these guys came from nothing," I murmur, touching her cheek. "They know what it's like to rely on the kindness of others to pay for equipment, training camps, travel, or education. Athletics is expensive, no matter how you slice it. If they can pay it back to kids who deserve a shot, most are willing."
"I can't believe we're really doing this," she whispers, then immediately bites her lip. "You think we'll be able to fund it?"
"We'll fund it," I say, confident of that fact. Between my team, my brothers, and her brother, our social circle isn't exactly small. And it comes with deep pockets. I never use my status much, but I have no problem using it now. "What do you need from me?"
"Um…a quote for a press release, I guess? We need to announce the funding drive and your participation. I'll also need photos to go with marketing materials."
"Damn," I murmur, my eyes locked on her lips. "And here I was hoping you'd say kisses and orgasms."
Her eyes heat, darkening. And then she groans softly. "I'll take those, too."
I growl, tugging her up against my chest. My lips come down on hers in a hard kiss. Within seconds, she isn't thinking about work. All she's thinking about is how good she feels in my arms.
Practice is interesting. It's hard as fuck to focus on the goal when she's sitting behind the bench, her head buried in her laptop. My gaze keeps drifting to her. She looks damn good right there, like she belongs.
I didn't expect her to be this comfortable around my teammates, but every time one of them skates past and says something to her, she laughs or smiles, her body relaxed. It's like whatever wounds she's been carrying have closed. She's healing, letting herself forget the mistrust that was forged into her bones in that courtyard when she was still just a teenager.