Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
We both finish getting ready to hit the ice, but on our way out of the locker room, Coach Dalton steps in front of me.
He watches everyone else leave but holds me back.
When we’re alone, he finally speaks. “Can I ask you something?”
“Uh, yes?” Did I just squeak?
I’m not gonna lie, Westly Dalton is fucking intimidating. He made it to the Big Show. He could’ve been one of the greats. Now he’s coaching a bunch of college kids.
“So, your line …”
“We’ll gel. Eventually.” I don’t entirely believe it, but what else am I going to say? Asher plays his own game out there. It’s aggressive but selfish. I can’t tell his big brother that.
“I was thinking you, Jacobs, and Asher need to bond and build trust.”
That doesn’t sound fun at all.
“Could you take Asher out tonight for a drink or dinner or … something? Get to know each other. I think it will help.”
“Umm, okay? With the rest of the team?”
He holds up his hand. “No. Not … everyone. Just you and him to begin with. I think too many will overwhelm him.”
“Why not Jacobs too?”
“He’s captain. Asher … struggles with authority.”
Why do I get the feeling this has nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with Asher not making any friends yet? He never comes out with us, even though we ask. Although, the asking has dropped off since the answer was always no.
“I’ll ask him, but I won’t hold my breath that he’ll accept.”
“I’ve already given him the same speech. He’ll meet you after practice.”
Oh great. It’s like I’m a five-year-old being set up on a playdate with the kid no one likes.
We head out to the rink, and practice goes the same way it has been all season. It’s a struggle to make successful passes, our timing’s off, and because Asher and our line need so much work, Coach Hogan works us overtime to the point beyond exhaustion.
When we’re told to finally hit the showers, the last thing I want to do is go out. I want to get in my car, drive to Seth’s place, and then crash in his bed.
After I shower and dress, I take out my phone to see a message from Seth asking how my day was. Then one two minutes later saying I didn’t need to reply right away because he knows I’m busy and he was checking in. Then another later asking to pretend he’s playing it cool.
His ex really must’ve done a number on him with all this needy crap. I like that he’s thinking of me. I like to find messages on my phone. Some people might find that clingy, but I don’t. And it’s not like he’s asking why I haven’t responded or is demanding I pay attention to him, so I don’t get what the big deal is.
I reply: Is it possible to die from exhaustion on day one? Because I’m pretty sure I’m dying. I was going to surprise you by annoyingly using you for your apartment again tonight, but Coach Dalton has me doing team shit, and I’m dead on my feet.
Einstein: That’s okay. Some friends asked me to go out, but I was going to see what you were doing first. I should go socialize. More than one person thought I died over break.
Richie: I got the same questioning. Apparently, holing up in an apartment for two weeks is not normal behavior. Who knew? Can I see you tomorrow? It’ll be late because of practice, but I want to.
Einstein: You know where to find me.
I smile at my screen but am interrupted by a throat clearing. My gaze finds Asher, who’s standing right in front of me. “Ah. Ready?”
“Yeah.” He folds his arms across his chest.
Oh yeah, this is going to be super fun. So happy to be going out instead of getting sex. Yay.
“Let’s get this over with.” He turns on his heel and exits the locker room, leaving me to scramble to catch up to him.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ve been here longer than me. You pick.”
“McIntyre’s is where we usually go, but Bean There is good too. Depends on what you’re in the mood for. Alcohol or coffee.”
“Alcohol. Definitely alcohol.”
“You got a ride home? I know you don’t live in the dorms.” And I’m trying really hard not to be bitter over that. School policy to keep us all together my ass. “How’d you manage that anyway? I hate living in the jock building.”
Asher scoffs. “All you have to do is off your parents. The school will give you anything you ask for.”
I wince.
“Sorry.” Asher averts his gaze. “I’ve been told bringing them up makes people uncomfortable. I don’t exactly know why considering they were my parents. Well, my dad and stepmom. But anyway, now I’m living with two teenagers, three preteens, and someone who thinks he’s in charge and has his shit together but really doesn’t. I will trade you for the dorms any day.”