Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I turned just as Nash freakin’ Reilly came into the room.
Oh, hell, he was even better looking in person. With his blond hair wet and a pair of low-slung sweats on beneath a Henley that pulled tight across his shoulders, it took me a second to stop staring. For a guy who wasn’t my type, he was breathtaking. My heart actually skipped a beat when I saw him and that was so unlike me. My entire body was on high alert, as if he’d actually touched me.
What the hell was that about?
“Keep your pants on,” Wes called back to Nash. “I’m—”
He was cut off as one of the media relations guys caught sight of Nash. “Nash, come here! I need you, man.”
“What’s up?” Nash turned and walked into one of the offices.
“I guess I’ll introduce you to Nash next time,” Wes said to me. “And if you want to meet the team, just have Lance check with Coach and we’ll find a time after a practice or something.”
“It’s good to be familiar with everyone,” Kevin added. “Especially when you have a customer who wants something signed or whatever.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“I’m gonna use the restroom,” Kevin said as Wes headed in the other direction. “See you in the conference room.”
“See you.” I grabbed a pen and paper since I didn’t have a company laptop yet, along with my purse, and headed in the direction of Conference Room A.
I pulled out my phone for the first time all day as I walked.
I’d missed a call from my mother. Big surprise. She knew I was starting a new job but still probably wanted to chat about who I was and wasn’t dating.
I also had four texts.
I opened the messaging app and smiled at the one from Dee.
DEE: Kick ass and take names today! I want all the deets when you get home! Love you!
I decided not to text her back until later since I didn’t have much time.
There was a text from Sophia, also wishing me luck, and the last two were from Rob.
ROB: Hope you have an amazing first day!
ROB: If you have a chance, drop me a quick text and let me know how it’s going. I’m sure you’re going to do great. Also, the canine gang says good luck!
And he’d attached a photo of all three dogs sitting at his feet, mouths open, tongues hanging out. It was absolutely adorable, and I couldn’t help but smile.
SARIAH: It’s been a great day so far! Heading into a lunch meeting. Not sure what time I’ll be home, but I’ll try to call later.
Chapter Eight
Nash
* * *
“I like teamwork, boys,” Coach Gizzard said, his tone overly cheerful. “It gives me the warm fuzzies. Reminds me of drinking cocoa with my dearly departed grandma in front of a fire.”
We were fucked. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that after the disastrous road trip we’d just had, there would be a price to pay at practice today.
“Hey, Coach Seville, what’s that other thing I like?” Gizzard asked one of his assistant coaches, whose expression was stoic.
“You like making the playoffs, Coach,” Seville said.
“That’s it!” Gizzard grinned, continuing his charade. “And you know, I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to make the playoffs.” He scanned each of our faces. “Do you boys remember what it feels like to make the playoffs?”
I shifted my weight to my other side, not daring to make eye contact with any of my teammates.
Coach was right. On the verge of clinching a playoff spot, we’d choked on our last road trip. We’d lost every game. As Sariah and I texted every evening about the new job she’d started a week ago, she’d asked me how my job was going. I told her it was a stressful time, but I couldn’t reveal much more without telling her I was a hockey player. She wasn’t ready for us to reveal those kinds of details to each other. I’d come close to telling her anyway, because it had been a hard fucking week.
“Hey, Coach,” Gizzard called out. “Are there any pucks in that bag today?”
Groans echoed around the arena as Coach Seville reached down and picked up the bag at his side. You didn’t play hockey for most of your life without knowing exactly where our head coach was going with today’s practice.
Seville opened the bag and looked inside. “It’s empty, Coach.”
“Not a single puck in that bag!” Coach Gizzard boomed. “I wonder how we can stop playing like a bunch of pimply junior leaguers who care more about jerking off than winning if we don’t have a single puck?”
He stopped and scanned our faces, and I schooled my expression into a mixture of concern and remorse. There was literally no worse time to roll your eyes or look disinterested than this.