Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
His gaze moves to mine, and a blush creeps up into his face as he lets her go. Dumbass. I’d never stop holding her. “Sorry,” he laughs and then threads his fingers through hers. Tennessee doesn’t dare look up. Instead, she covers her mouth with her hand, guilt-ridden.
I almost feel bad. Almost.
“I haven’t seen her in a couple days. You know how it is,” he says, holding out his hand to shake.
“I do,” I say, but I don’t take his hand. “It fucking sucks.”
He drops his hand, eyeing me and then looking back at Tennessee. “Um, yeah.”
His green gaze moves to mine, leaving me three seconds from wanting to piss on her leg.
Mark her, let him know he can try, but there is no point.
I swallow past the rage bubbling in my throat and bite out, “Tennessee, call me.”
Troy makes a face at that. “For what?”
“So she can help me score,” I say, and her gaze flicks to mine, annoyance swirling deep in those two rare depths.
Troy’s brows knit together tightly as he looks between us, but I won’t look away from Tennessee first. She’ll have to. And unfortunately, she does, looking up to him. “This is D’Artagnan Miklas. He’s a forward for the IceCats.”
He knows that’s not all I am, and that pleases me more than it should. I’m being a real dick right now, but I don’t give a fuck. “That’s right. I knew I recognized you.”
I slowly nod. “Yeah. So hit me up, Tennie.”
His eyes narrow as his back goes straight. “I’ll probably get in contact with you,” he says, stopping me from moving. “I’ll be down in a week’s time, and we’ll be sharing these contracts. I’ll more than likely work with the IceCats.”
The way Tennessee looks at him tells me she doesn’t agree with that.
“I can tell you this right now… Our team wants the best, and she’s the best. So, we’ll be working with her,” I say, even though I have no control over that whatsoever. But I’m going to act like I do.
His eyes darken a bit, and I can see how uncomfortable Tennessee is. She looks as if she is about to come out of her skin. “While she is the best, we are a team. And together, we work best.”
Ha. He thinks they’re a team? He doesn’t know shit. I chuckle deeply but with no humor. “Whatever you say, buddy. Just hit me up, Tennie,” I call over my shoulder as I walk away from her once more. I can feel their gazes on me as I stalk down the hall I came from—before I deck him in that mouth of his and take Tennessee back in my arms.
Where she belongs.
I slam my stick into the puck over and over, almost falling but not giving a shit.
I may be missing the goal, but it’s not about that. It’s about the rage that’s inside me.
I haven’t felt this kind of anger since I found out that one of my mom’s exes had disciplined Sabine by smacking her across the face when she broke his game controller. She was barely a toddler, probably Raine’s age, and I lost it. Blacked out and beat the shit out of the guy. Thankfully, I was only seventeen, and my record was expunged when I turned eighteen. I try not to allow myself to get that bad, to allow that all-consuming anger to come to life, but right now, in this moment, I am livid.
It’s almost as if I have no control over my feelings. They’re all over the place. I’m happy Tennessee is here, ecstatic, but then I’m miserable that she has apparently moved on. That he touched her. In front of me. But the two of them together doesn’t feel right. If she had moved on, she wouldn’t have reacted the way she did. She wouldn’t have kissed me. She wouldn’t have touched me and looked at me the way she did. I know she wants me. I know nothing has changed. But why in the hell, if she knew she was coming here, is she still with that guy?
And why didn’t she contact me?
It doesn’t make any fucking sense and honestly has me questioning myself. Am I making this up? The way she looked at me, the way her lips pressed to mine, the way her fingers clutched my shirt—did I make it all up in my head? Am I not good enough for her? Does she not want me? Not need me how I need her?
I drop my gloves and stick, letting my head fall back before I let out the loudest, most frustrated roar of my life in the middle of the arena. I don’t feel like this. I know who I am. I know what I offer, and I know good and well Tennessee feels the same way. No one experiences what we did and walks away unscathed. My roar echoes throughout the arena as I quake with confusion, and I just don’t understand what the hell is happening right now.