Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
There, dressed like she threw up Dallas merchandise, stands the woman who has taken over me. Standing there in tight jeans, wearing my jersey and the baseball hat with her hair in a ponytail, she looks so fucking beautiful. She smiles at me, and I want to get off the ice and ask her why she didn’t call me or text me. I want to ask her if she is okay and if she is staying for the game. I’m about to mouth something to her when I get nudged in the back. “Dibs,” Corey says from behind me, and I turn and put my whole glove in his face, pushing him.
“What? There are two of them. You aren’t going to date both of them,” he says, and I look over Zara’s shoulder and see that Zoe is sitting in the chair behind her typing away on her phone. They are dressed the same, and if you didn’t know better, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell them apart, but I’d know Zara anywhere. Her eyes light up a different color when she is really happy, whereas Zoe’s stays the same. I skate and do my turn, and I shoot it to the back of the net. Jari doesn’t even try to stop it. I skate the bench and see her walk over. Everything that I went through all day—the worry and everything—made this moment so much better. I see that the reporters are looking over, so I only look at her and shake my head just a touch, so she sees it. She looks behind me and then looks down and turns around, going back to sit next to Zoe in the seats I got them.
I skate off the ice and go into the back to look for Tristan, our public relations guy. I see him in the corner in his suit as he types away on his phone. I walk to him, and he looks up. “What did you do?”
I look at him, pulling my eyebrows together. “There are two girls outside.”
“I’m not your pimp, and this isn’t a rock concert where we bring groupies in the back,” he says, and I push him as he laughs. “You know those tickets you got me this morning?”
“You mean the reason for my six a.m. phone call?” he asks me, and I shrug.
“Yeah, that,” I say. “I want you to bring them in the back when the game is over.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” he says, and I look left and right to make sure no one can hear.
“It’s Zara Stone,” I say, and he puts his head back and moans.
“I’ve been dodging reporters since Sunday,” he hisses, and now he sees all the guys coming back from the ice. “Why can’t you date a nice girl?”
“She is a nice girl,” I tell him.
“Why can’t you date a girl who isn’t going to end up with you in the hospital?” he says. “Matthew, I think you can take, but Max? Dude, that guy is a beast.”
“No one is going to be beating anyone. Jesus,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s just a hockey game. Then a date to her ex’s wedding.” When he folds his arms over his chest, I don’t tell him she might be coming to Dallas for the casino night because I think he might literally lose his shit. “Can you just please make sure she comes back after the game?” I lean in. “Undercover.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like a pimp?” he says to me, and I laugh, looking him up and down.
“Might be the suit, man.” I look him up and down and see he has a velour suit this time.
“You shouldn’t insult the man you need something from,” he says, turning and walking away from me. I go back into the room, and I sit down and listen to Coach’s speech, forcing myself to focus on the game at hand.
We get up and head for the ice now. “Ready, boys?” Paul, the captain of the team, shouts to pump up the guys. “Let’s take their home away from them,” he shouts. The music starts playing, and the boys head to the ice. I skate on the ice with the lights off to get in our zone. The lights flicker, and we head for the bench. I take a sip of water and then go and line up on the ice for the national anthem.
I take my helmet off and stand on the blue line with my guys. The spotlight comes on when a lady comes out and starts singing. I force myself not to look where I know she is sitting, so I don’t make a fool of myself. I don’t even know when the singing stops until I hear claps and then put my helmet on. I skate to center ice and look to the side. Denis is on one side, and Paul is on the other.