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)
“Maybe I should sleep in my own bed tonight.”
“Nuh-uh.” I nuzzle her neck. “I sleep better when you’re here.”
“Is that true?” She taps my hands. “I recall us both being under-slept on Monday.”
“I’d been away, though.” I release her and she rolls off the bed, hopping to her feet.
“Mm. Okay. Sleepover tonight, but tomorrow night I’m in my own bed and you’re in yours,” she says.
“We can negotiate later.”
“You mean you can try to convince me to stay later.”
“Maybe.”
We pack our bags, collect Brody and Gage on the way out, and hop into Brody’s car. We drop Fee off at her class and drive to the arena.
“Everything okay?” I ask Gage who’s frowning at his phone as we exit the car.
“My sister’s ex needs a tune-up. The douchebag is trying to get her back. Says he made a mistake.”
“What’s she saying?” I ask.
“All the right things: he’s a jerk, she deserves better.” He shakes his head. “I wish kicking his ass wouldn’t get me suspended from the team.”
“Violence is rarely the answer,” Brody says from his spot behind the wheel.
“Thanks, Yoda,” Gage quips.
“I’m just saying, there are lots of ways to make someone’s life miserable that don’t include breaking their nose or fingers,” he replies. “Besides, if you wait long enough, karma will come around and bite that guy in the ass. He can’t treat women like that and expect for it not to go sideways on him, especially not when the woman in question has a brother on the school hockey team. The guy is an asshole. It’s only a matter of time before he gets his comeuppance.”
“You’re in an introspective mood,” Chase observes.
“I just don’t like seeing people get treated poorly by someone who is supposed to care about them.”
“This,” I agree as we enter the arena.
We hit the locker room and suit up for practice with the rest of the team. A couple of the first years are talking about their summer plans as they lace their skates.
“You hear anything back from any of the summer programs yet?” Gage asks.
“Not yet. How about you?” We’ve applied to a couple of the same places, including the Hockey Academy.
“Me neither. Hopefully soon, though,” Gage says.
“Crossing everything for the Hockey Academy.”
I haven’t mentioned the other programs to Fee, hopeful I’ll get a local spot. But I’ve been thinking about the alternatives a lot. Like only having overseas interest, getting called up, but the team is across the country, or in the States. Would she be willing to try long distance? At fajita night the Terror crew shared stories about how demanding their rookie years were.
I put my worries in a box and focus on practice as we hit the ice for warm-ups before we scrimmage. I don’t eat ice, and I manage an assist with Brody scoring the goal. Whistling draws our attention to the stands.
“Holy shit.” Gage’s jaw drops. “Is that Alex fucking Waters? What the hell is he doing here?”
Coach blows the whistle. “Stiles, bring it in.”
“Bro. Dude.” Chase claps him on the back. “Is Alex fucking Waters here to see you?”
Brody shrugs, his face turning red. “Dunno.”
Alex Waters is a legend in the sport, much like Roman. After he retired, him and his former Chicago Rage teammates started the Hockey Academy out in Pearl Lake, near Chicago. They opened a second program in Toronto a few years ago, and there’s already a five-year waitlist. It’s no surprise since they produce some of the best players in the league.
“Chase, Brody, it’s good to see you boys pushing yourselves this season. I was just telling your coach how excited we are that you’ve applied to come back this year.”
“Last summer was amazing,” Chase says.
“Best hockey camp experience ever.” Brody nudges me and Gage forward. “This is Mac Meyers and Gage Steele. They’re my teammates, but also my roommates.”
“It’s nice to meet you guys.”
I shake Alex Waters’ hand and manage not to pass out. “It’s an honor, sir.”
“You had a rough start to the season, but you’ve made some big gains over the past month. Keep it up and you’ll be fine,” Alex says.
I swallow knives of mortification. “I’m working hard to bring my stats back to where they were last season.”
“Roman has great things to say about you,” he adds.
“That’s good to hear.” I don't want my relationship with Fee to be the reason I get a spot in the Hockey Academy.
“Just keep putting in the time on the ice,” he advises.
I step back and let some of the other guys introduce themselves while the swirling anxiety digs its claws in. Keep it up is the hockey equivalent of a participation ribbon. What if I’m never good enough for the pros?
I’m quiet in the locker room as the rest of the guys chatter excitedly about having met such a legendary player. Brody is inundated with questions, which isn’t unusual, but the guy hates being the center of attention, so he’ll probably lock himself in his room for the rest of the night and avoid unnecessary social interaction.