Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Kind of late, aren’t you?” she says, her voice dry.
I smirk, unable to resist needling her. “Anxious to see me again, Tink?”
With a snort, she crosses her arms and glances away. “I think we both know nothing could be further from the truth. And stop calling me that.”
My mind comes up with and then rejects a dozen different responses.
I’m not used to playing it cool, and I sure as shit don’t have to try this hard to secure someone’s attention.
That realization only makes me want to break down the walls she’s erected to keep me out even more than before.
“Have you given anymore thought to grabbing that coffee with me?”
“Actually,” she says with an exaggerated pause, “I forgot all about it.”
I press my hand to my chest. “Ouch. That stings.”
She arches a brow. “Doubtful.”
Even though she’s doing everything possible to keep me at a distance, I refuse to walk away. There’s something here, something that demands to be explored.
My guess is she feels it too.
Before I can say anything else, Coach skates over, his narrowed gaze bouncing between us.
Suspicion darkens his features. “Hayes, help Sanderson with the drills.”
I blink. “I thought I was with Maverick.”
Coach’s stare turns a few shades colder. “McKinnon’s got it under control. Assist Sanderson.”
Translation: Get the hell away from my daughter.
“Sure thing, Coach.” I give Ava one last look, but she’s already skating away.
I head toward the opposite end of the rink. It’s a challenge to keep my mind focused on the drills and not the blonde figure skater. Every couple of minutes, my attention gets snagged by her.
And when she drops the prickly demeanor and smiles at the kids?
It’s like a punch to the gut that leaves me feeling even more off-kilter than before.
That’s when I realize that whatever this is won’t just fade away.
The question is, what the hell am I going to do about it?
11
Ava
Three hours later and I’m completely wiped. Parents are trickling in for pickup, and I didn’t expect wrangling a group of hyperactive children would be more exhausting than my own two-hour practices filled with physically demanding jumps and routines.
Some of these kids have the attention span of a goldfish. They’re constantly asking questions, wandering off, or worse, encouraging others to do the same.
And the ones who can’t seem to focus for more than five seconds?
I keep them glued to my side.
Their parents must be saints, because there’s no way I’d survive one day in their shoes.
“Coach Ava?” A small tug on my fingers pulls me from my thoughts.
I glance down into the big blue eyes of a little girl. Two teeth are missing from her smile, which only makes her cuteness factor shoot off the charts.
“What’s up?” I check the white tape on her helmet that has her name scrawled in black Sharpie. “Kia?”
“I’m thirsty. Can I get a drink of water?”
“Of course.”
She beams before rushing off toward the bench where the bottles are lined up like little soldiers. She’s one of the few girls in the clinic, and definitely the youngest.
A couple minutes later, she’s back, standing in front of me with that same wide-eyed grin. “Do you play hockey?”
The question takes me by surprise. “Nope. I’m a figure skater.” A small stab of sadness twists inside my chest. That answer used to fill me with pride. Now, it’s a reminder of everything I’ve lost.
Before I can wallow, I push the feeling aside, refocusing on the little girl. “Are you here by yourself?”
She shakes her head, pointing toward a group of boys on the other side of the rink. “My brothers are over there.”
“Hockey must run in the family, huh?”
Her dimples pop as she nods. “Yup. My brother says I can play on a team next year.”
“That’ll be fun. So, who’s picking you up? Are they here yet?”
“My brother drove us,” she says.
I glance at one of the boys she pointed to and frown. “Isn’t he, like, ten?”
Kia bursts into a fit of giggles. Before she can answer, Hayes skates over with two boys trailing behind him. One of them looks about twelve, the other younger, maybe eight or nine. When Hayes scoops Kia up into his arms, her face lights up.
“Did you have fun, squirt?” His tone is gentle in a way I wasn’t expecting.
“Yeah! Can we come back next weekend?”
With a smile, he shakes his head. “Nope. This was a one-day thing, remember? We talked about it.”
Her pout is immediate, and I can’t help but soften at the exchange.
“These are your siblings?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
His gaze locks on mine, that familiar grin creeping across his face. “Yup. All three of them.”
“My feet hurt,” one of the boys complains, sounding every bit the pre-teen he probably is. “I think I’ve got blisters.”
Hayes pats the top of his helmet. “I’ve got bandages in my bag. We’ll check them in the locker room.”