Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I hated it, and I hated more so that the reasoning was valid. I’d fucked up out there and it was all because I couldn’t stop thinking about Miles or what we had done in that bathroom only a couple days before.
“Sorry, Coach,” I replied like a defeated child.
“Apologize to me by getting your head out of your ass and back into the game.”
“You got it, Coach.”
There was a tap on my shoulder that made me freeze. Fuck. I turned around and expected to look into the eyes of a disappointed Miles but instead it was George, the assistant coach. He leaned in and whispered. “It wasn’t totally your fault. A penalty should have been called on number forty-five before he pinned you.”
I appreciated the note but couldn’t get past the smell of whatever fish George had for dinner right before the game. He seemed like a nice guy—maybe sometimes overly nice—but damn, did he need a better dental routine. “Thanks,” I said from under my helmet.
“It’s only the first game. Plenty of time to improve.” Now that felt like a subtle dig even if he was right. “Want some water?” He held a bottle out to me, his dark eyes hyper-focused on me when I felt like he should have been watching the game.
I shook my head. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“Of course.”
I turned back to look at the game I’d completely botched, hoping that Gabe could maybe score us one more point before the clock ran out. He currently had the puck and was driving it toward the opponent’s goal. Eli skated close behind, protecting him. Those two played like they shared one mind. It was entertaining to watch but I couldn’t really enjoy it, not with my mistake playing over and over in my head, while knowing Miles sat a couple feet away from me.
Another tap on my shoulder. “Oh,” George said over the loud sounds of the arena. “I think the trainer wants to see you after this. He was writing your name in his notebook quite a bit.”
Huh. First off, I wasn’t sure if George should be snooping like that on Miles’ notes. The coach would likely get a report of any suspected injuries after the game, along with which players he’d think would need to see him first, but it was unusual for the assistant coach to deliver that news. Then again, George had seemed quite enthusiastic about doing anything and everything he could to help the team since he was brought on, so maybe this was his way of pitching in.
“Thanks,” I said. I shot a glance at Miles who had his eyes trained on the game. At least I had something to look forward to after the Coach chewed me a new asshole in the locker room.
Maybe Miles could kiss it and make it better…
Chapter Twelve
Office Hours
MILES
Today’s injury report wasn’t too bad, which was exactly what I wanted to see for the first game of the season. There were a couple possible sprains and a few hard hits that would likely need some stretching and ice-bath time to rehab, but thankfully nothing that needed immediate attention. Guess that was a perk of working on a team where there were a good number of shifters out on the ice. Our healing abilities meant I’d likely see fewer guys than usual inside the training room after our games.
Good. I loved my job but I disliked that it was necessary. Seeing people in pain was the biggest drawback to my career, outweighed only by the fact that I was responsible for making them feel better and getting them back out on the ice. More often than not, that was the outcome from visits to my office, but sometimes injuries were so bad that they were outside the scope of my practice and could permanently bench some guys.
Those were the days I truly wished I’d gone down a different career path. When the only answer was “I’m so sorry, but you won’t be able to play anymore.” Seeing the devastation in their eyes haunted me. It was like being the grim reaper of someone’s dreams.
I closed my iPad and pushed away from my desk, the chair nearly hitting the wall behind me in the tiny space. I’d already started to make it feel a little more homey with a couple Pop Figures on my desk that I’d collected over the years and a few books stacked on the corner that I’d been reading and loving lately. Thankfully there was a window that looked out to the woods that hugged the back of the stadium. It made this feel much less like a utility closet and more like a cozy office.
It was already dark outside. No one from today’s game needed to be seen by me tonight so I considered going for a run through the woods. It had become one of my favorite things to do since moving here. I loved the freedom of being in my wolf form, darting through the trees and feeling the chilly air flowing through my fur and the grounding soil kicking up underneath my paws. Running at night also lessened the chances of bumping into a startled hiker or camper. I’d already spooked a couple people a few days ago when the wind had been blowing their scent in the opposite direction as me and I nearly crashed into them on the trail.