Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I am focused. You’re not going to answer the question?”
“It’s not relevant right now.”
“Yeah, but I’m curious. Why is my dimple so offensive?”
“It’s my kryptonite, okay? Now put it away so I can focus.”
I bring my hand in front of my face and adopt a neutral expression as I lower it. “Better?”
“Immensely.” She fights a smile and motions to the pucks. “So shots on net are all about the angles, right?”
I nod, maintaining a somber expression. “Correct.”
“I’ve noticed you have a habit of going wide, which means your angle is off. But it wasn’t like that last season, was it?”
“No. Last season I had a solid scoring record,” I reply. “It was a personal best.”
“And you weighed significantly less, so maybe it’s the root of the issue.” She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. I want to tug it free, because like my dimple, it’s distracting.
“Mac, you still with me?”
“Yeah. Yes. My weight gain might be contributing to my declining stats.” Anything to logically explain why I’m struggling this season would be better than peaking before I graduate.
“Okay, so take the shot again for me.” Fee stands back and watches while I shoot the puck.
This time it goes in.
“Okay, hit all those in and let’s keep track.”
I can see parts of her sister who coaches the Terror in her. She’s observant, and I wonder how much of that comes from her life in an arena, and how much comes from all the people she watches in the name of creating art. I fire the rest of the pucks at the net. She’s right: two-thirds hit the mark while the rest go wide.
We gather the pucks and move them back to the starting point to try again.
“Move into your shooting stance for me,” Fee instructs.
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” I salute her and do as she asks. “Now what, Coach?”
“Make like you’re going to take a shot on net, but stop before you make contact with the puck.”
“Sure thing.” I take the swing but don’t fire the puck at the net.
Fee instructs me to do it again a few more times as she shifts her position, watching me from different angles. I love having her eyes on me. “Now take the shot for me, please.”
It goes in but skims the bars.
She skips and claps, almost losing her balance. “I think I have it figured out!” She circles around behind me and settles her hands on my hips. “I’m going to adjust your stance to see if it helps,” she explains.
“Sounds good.” I relax my stance for her. “How do you want me?”
“That’s a loaded question,” she murmurs, then adds, “Nice and loose for me.” As she runs her hand along the outside of my thigh.
I shoot a grin over my shoulder. “I’ll do my best.”
She rolls her pretty eyes and adjusts my shoulders, tipping the right one back an inch, then moves around in front of me, adjusting my hips. She tucks a finger under my chin, tipping it up until our eyes meet. “Now show me why all the girls can’t get enough of you on or off the ice.” She winks, then slides backward, giving me space to shoot.
“I thought you told me to can it with the flirting.”
“Just speaking your favorite language, Mac Attack.” She motions to the net. “Now hit me with your best shot.”
I laugh. “Oh, that was—”
“—Amazing, I know.”
I line up the shot and take it. This time it slides into the net. I shoot the rest of the pucks, only missing the last two. Fee repositions me, tweaking my wrist incrementally, before I try again, and this time get nine out of ten shots. The next time I get them all.
“Fuck yeah!” I skate over to her, wrap my arms around her and lift her off her feet as I spin us in a circle. “You’re officially hired as my personal coach.”
“I’ll take my payment in popcorn and Smarties,” she jokes.
I set her down all smiles. “I hope you know you have to be at all my games until the end of the year.”
“Girlfriend duty implies this, but I was already coming anyway,” she says softly.
“You’re a good coach.”
“Thanks.” She tosses me another puck.
I catch it on the end of my stick, flip it in the air, and aim for the net, making the shot.
“Look at you, superstar.” She claps and does a hip shimmy.
“Seriously, though, we made more ground in an hour than I have in the last five solo sessions I’ve booked. You saw the issues right away.”
Fee leans against the boards while I practice taking more shots. “I’ve spent an extraordinary amount of time in arenas not playing hockey. I used to take Callie to her after-school practices, especially during my senior year of high school, when we moved to Toronto and Lexi got the coaching job with the Terror,” she explains.