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)
Zara Stone @ZaraStone
When your ex-boyfriend gets engaged, you ask his idol @EvanRichards to be your date to crash his wedding. What do you say? Wanna be my date?
#myexhasapencildick
Zoe reads it and turns to high-five me while Karrie rolls her lips, trying not to laugh. Allison puts her hands in front of her mouth, and Vivienne just nods, drinking her wine. My phone beeps, and my father looks at me. “I think he answered.”
I grab the phone from him just when I hear Karrie’s cell phone ring. Her eyes look from the phone to me. “It’s Matthew.”
“Did he answer you?” Zoe asks, and I open my Twitter.
Evan Richards @EvanRichards
Sounds like a plan. DM me.
Zoe laughs out loud. “Yeah buddy, you better DM him right now.”
“What does that even mean? Why is this happening?” My father just moans.
“It’s happening because he is a pencil dick asshole who basically lied with the whole ‘I have so much work, and I have to focus on that’ bullshit. Well, guess what? I’m going to get the last laugh,” I tell him, and he just shakes his head.
“Matthew is freaking out,” Karrie says, trying not to laugh with the phone by her ear. “Hold on, let me put him on speaker.”
“Zara.” His voice fills the room. “Are you out of your mind?” he asks in one breath and then continues. “No, don’t answer that. We all know you are out of your mind.”
“Hey, Matthew,” I say, and he stops talking. “Is it true you threw out Karrie’s vibrator?”
“Who told her that?” he hisses. “I have to be on the ice in twenty minutes. I don’t have time for this today.”
“Who asked you to get involved?” Zoe says. “I mean, you won’t even let your wife have a vibrator. She looks deprived.”
“She isn’t deprived,” he says, “and the date with Evan is never going to happen.”
“Matthew Grant,” Karrie pipes in, “don’t you dare. Your sister is brokenhearted.”
“This is going to end up on SportsCenter,” Matthew grumbles. “I have to go. Kiss the kids for me, and you twins …” I look at Zara, and she looks at me. “I’ll liquidate some stocks to make sure I have bail money.” He laughs, but my father groans.
“I see this ending very badly.” My mother laughs.
“For one of us anyway.” I smirk at her.
Chapter Four
Evan
“Let’s go.” The coach yells at me to start the drill. I skate from the corner of the rink to the blue line, looking slightly over my shoulder, and wait for the Corey, my defenseman, to pass me the puck. I skate a little to let the puck hit the back of my stick. I hustle it up now, pushing against the boards, the sound of ice crushing under my skates echoing in my ears. I skate past center ice all the way to the other blue line, looking over and seeing that line partner Denis a second behind me. This summer, I worked on my speed and my cardio, and it’s paying off in one of my best seasons ever. I’m number one on the leaderboard for goals, number one for points, and if this continues, I’ll be in the running for that Art Ross trophy.
It’s so close I can taste it. “Skate harder,” I yell to Denis. He tries, but I just go without him, shooting at the empty net and watching the puck drop in the back of the net. I skate around the net, laughing at Denis who is finally getting to the net. I now switch backward and look at him. “Guess having that doughnut before practice wasn’t a good idea,” I tell him, and he sticks his gloved hand up, telling me to fuck off. The sound of the whistle has me stopping.
“That’s it,” Coach says. “Rest for the night, boys. Tomorrow’s practice ten a.m.,” he says, skating off the ice, and we follow him. I get off the ice and walk down the red carpet to the dressing room. Unsnapping my helmet, I put my stick against the wall with the rest of them. I take off my glove and put it on the bench right under my name. I grab my phone and see that I have a couple of messages from my sister Candace who takes care of my social media. Well, she takes care of the Facebook and Twitter. I do my own Instagram, which is a pain in my ass.
I’m going to be dropping off fifty shirts for you to sign tonight.
Don’t forget to call Mom.
I also fed your dogs.
Also you should check who just tweeted you? Might have to go undercover, brother.
I’m about to open my Twitter when I hear laughing behind me and look over to see Jari, our goalie, sitting down looking at his phone. He looks up at me. “Dude, did you check your Twitter?” I shake my head and open my phone.