Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I didn’t know this was ending in a vote,” I say, the emotion too much, the feelings overwhelming as the tears continue to flow freely down my face. “I just don’t want to get hurt or hurt him.”
“Then trust him,” Louisa suggests, tears flooding her eyes now. “I wouldn’t vote for just anyone when it comes to you four. I got very lucky with Dimitri and Coleson, and I trust that Alex is the man for you.”
I want to fight her on that, but she has been living with him for the last six months. Clara leans in, kissing my temple. “Like we said, no matter what, we got you.”
I don’t doubt what my sisters are saying. I know they’ve got me, and I trust them with all my heart.
I just don’t know if I trust myself.
CHAPTER 18
Alex
Elliot isn’t convinced.
I know it may be cocky of me to assume she would be after only one night with me, but I never claimed to be anything but the whole definition of the word. I have to be. I’m one person between two pipes who gets pelted with pucks, night after night. I’ve been hit in the groin more than I care to admit, and I’m not ashamed to say I was a bit worried I might not be able to have kids. Current situation proves that to be only an intrusive thought, for sure. Anyway, I have to be confident in myself, my skill, and my mental game. It’s the only reason I was able to do as well as I did in Nashville. And now, how I’ll help the Bears win the Cup.
But I’m nowhere near as confident as I want to be when it comes to Elliot.
Which doesn’t sit well with me at all. I don’t like the way it makes me question myself and even what I could have done differently. I’d rather not think she’ll just placate me to the end so she doesn’t have to give me her heart. That heart is mine.
I thought of calling my mom, but I don’t want to tell her about the baby until I know what’s going on with Elliot. She didn’t approve my plan, but Elliot didn’t fight it either. That could have been my fault, though. I kissed her and then ravished her.
Not that I feel any remorse.
I enjoyed every second.
I’m still stretching as my teammates leave the ice after a long, grueling practice. Tomorrow starts the second round of play-offs and we don’t have home ice, so I’ll be flying out tomorrow for Texas. I wasn’t excited about leaving Elliot until I remembered she’d be going with us. She’s covering all the games, and the players, for our social media sites, which means she has to be there.
With us.
With me.
Even with being in goal and having my teammates shoot pucks at me left and right, I couldn’t help but watch her move down the bench today, talking to the guys and taking video. She wore a pair of dress slacks and an oversized Bears jersey that no one would second-guess on her. Now that I know, now that I’ve felt her skin under my hands, I can see the bump. How the fabric pulls against her expanded torso as she moves in certain ways.
My teammates and the staff are none the wiser as she flutters about, looking like the gorgeous angel of my dreams. It’s one of the things I want to know when I see her this afternoon—when will we go public? I want the world to know. I want to make a post on every social media outlet there is, though I’m sure she hasn’t told her grandfather. I hope she’ll allow me to be there for support.
I have a feeling I might have a death wish coming my way, but Dan won’t act on it. He needs me. The Bears almost lost the first series, going to game seven and only winning with a soft goal. The way the goalie played won’t hold up against Texas. They need next level; they need me, and I’m sure of that.
I stretch out my hips and groin, really pressing my body into the ice for the deep stretch. I feel the pull, and I welcome the discomfort as I continue to maneuver my body into different poses to get the deepest stretch. It isn’t until Coach comes out that I realize I’m alone. I do this, though; I focus so intently on my stretches that everything else fades away.
Coach skates toward me, leaning his large frame over the back of the goal before pushing my water bottle to the side so he can lean on his elbows. He’s dressed in his black athletic pants and a jacket that has the Bears emblem on the back and COACH written on the front. His hair is getting longer, as is his beard.