Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Do you think we could screw in the locker room like we used to?” I ask as we climb the grandstand.
“Might be a bit weird seeing as though we don’t know any of the players anymore,” he comments as though the suggestion had actual merit. Though, I guess it did. We have certainly had our way with each other in much weirder places.
“What might be weird?” a deep voice asks from behind us.
We turn around and find a grinning Jaxon leading his wife, Cassie, up the stairs. Tank’s face lights up as he comes down a step and I can’t help but feel like shit after not having made enough time to see them recently. Hell, it’s been ages since my husband tried using their son as a human football. “Hey, man,” he smiles, the two big assholes blocking the walkway. “Sophie wants to screw in the locker rooms.”
“Ahh,” Jaxon laughs. “Some things never change.”
I roll my eyes but yeah, he’s right. “Don’t get me started on you,” I warn him, remembering way too many things about this guy. Hell, he was more of a sex-crazed whore than I was in college, and that’s certainly a big achievement.
Jaxon holds both his hands up in surrender and starts to make a snide comment when a throat clears from lower on the stairs.
“Come on,” Cassie says. “We’ve got to keep moving. We’re holding up the line.”
“Yeah,” Jaxon agrees. “We’ll catch up with you guys after the game?” he questions. “Maybe Micky’s?”
“We’ll be there,” Tank says as he takes my hand and starts leading me back up the grandstand. We find our seats and I get myself comfortable for what should be one hell of a great game.
After pulling my new blanket on and placing my foam finger on my lap to slip on when the time comes, I’m ready to cheer for my team. As we wait for the game to start, Tank busily texts Miller, making him fully aware of where we are with a selfie, while I open up my new calendar to see what goodies lie within.
Chapter 15
TANK
Fuck, it’s good to be here.
While the circumstances surrounding how I got here were hard, it’s still great to be back in the place that started it all.
Six years ago, I never would have dreamed that I’d be sitting in this very grandstand, next to my incredible wife, as captain of the LA Storm, cheering on the still undefeated Denver Dragons.
Fucking dream come true right here, and at the risk of sounding like a damn pussy, I’m on cloud fucking nine. This right here is home.
The game finishes, and I’m not surprised to see they took out the win. Their team is fucking good, maybe even stronger than when Miller and I were there. Hell, there’s some kids in here that I’ll be talking to Larsden about once I’m back in LA. What did surprise me was when the team came out of the hole with Coach Harris bringing up the rear, and Shorty right by his side.
After the game, I grab Sophie and lead her straight into the locker room, only getting through because it’s the same security that used to work here back when I skated for the team, and he learned really fucking fast not to deny Sophie when she wants to get through.
Sophie grins as we enter the locker room, and she does what she does best, making herself well-known to the team. I roll my eyes as she has the whole team eating out of her hand within seconds, her wide smile making me so goddamn happy.
“Tank,” the old man says fondly.
I turn and find Coach Harris beaming at me as he makes his way across the locker room. He pulls me into a warm hug and my arms instantly fly around him. “Hey, Coach. How’s it going?”
“Not too bad, kid,” he smiles. “What about you?” he asks as his eyes quickly flick toward Sophie across the locker room, talking with his players. “I heard you guys have been going through a bit of a rough time.”
“Yeah,” I say, taken aback by how hard it is to talk with him about this, feeling my chest constrict with emotion. Coach Harris was a mentor to me. His opinion always mattered, and unloading my burden makes me feel like that freshman kid again, desperately seeking his guidance. “It’s been pretty shit, but we’re coming out the other end.”
“That’s good to hear, son. How’s Sophie, though? She’s all healed?” he questions, still so fond of Dani and Sophie after all these years.
“Mostly,” I tell him. “Her ribs are still giving her a hard time, but she won’t admit it.”
He shakes his head in exasperation. “She’s always been so damn stubborn,” Coach Harris murmurs.
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I reply as an ear-shattering squeal is heard from behind me. I turn just in time to see Sophie flying across the locker room and into the arms of Shorty. “What’s this numbskull doing beside you in the coaches box?” I question.