Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“McKinnon’s sister looked good enough to eat at that party. Think she’s smart enough to know what to do with that pretty little mouth of hers?”
There’s a taunting edge to his voice as if he understands that she’s a weakness.
Instead of ignoring him the way every instinct is screaming at me to do, I snap, “Stay the fuck away from her.”
He skates closer as a satisfied chuckle escapes from him. “And if I don’t?” He notches his chin higher. “What are you going to do about it?”
Fucking beat him until he’s nothing more than a bloodspot on the ice.
My jaw is clenched so tight that it feels like my teeth will crack and shatter.
His grin widens as his voice drops so low that only I can hear. “Ever wonder just how soft her pussy is? Well, I plan to find out.”
That’s all it takes for my brain to click off and for me to leap at him. We tumble to the ice in a wild tangle of limbs as I slam my gloved fist into his helmet. It doesn’t take long before he’s fighting back. Hayes and Bridger are the first to arrive on the scene. A shower of ice is sprayed as they come to a quick stop, reaching down to rip us apart.
It’s only when I’m pulled away bucking and frothing at the mouth that the shrill sound of the whistle penetrates the roar of the ocean that fills my ears, blinding me to everything else but Garret.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Bridger growls, continuing to shove me back a couple of steps.
I crane my neck in order to look past him. My gaze stays pinned to Garret.
“Nothing.”
Fucking cock sucker.
The same smile Akeman had been sporting earlier stays plastered to his lips. Only now, it’s wider.
“McAdams!” Coach bellows. “Get the fuck off my ice right now! You’re done!”
“Good job, dumbass,” Hayes mutters. “I’m sure we’ll be skating suicides for the rest of practice.”
A couple of players help Garret to his feet. It’s so damn tempting to knock him back to the ice where he belongs. Hayes and Bridger must have psychic ability, because their grip tightens around me.
“Now, McAdams!” Coach shouts, his sharp voice echoing off the cavernous arena walls.
Garret lifts his hand in a wave. “Sounds like you gotta go buh-bye, McAdams. Better get moving.”
With a growl, I surge forward. Hayes and Bridger continue to restrain me. If they weren’t…
I don’t know what I’d do.
Actually, that’s not true.
I know exactly what I’d do.
And it would be such a pleasure.
“Shut the fuck up, Akeman,” Hayes snaps.
“Stop being a douche,” Colby McNichols adds.
There aren’t many guys on the team who like Garret. For some reason, he’s under the misguided impression that he’s a more talented player than he actually is.
His expression turns sullen as I swing around and head toward the bench.
“I’ll catch you later,” Garret calls after me.
“Count on it.”
As much as I want to avoid our coach, my gaze reluctantly lifts to his. There’s a mixture of anger, irritation, and disappointment swimming around within his eyes.
Even though I don’t like Reed Philips, and he clearly has nothing for me, it’s the disappointment that chafes my ass most. Like he expected better, and I let him down. My gaze flickers to the other coaches who are shaking their heads and whispering as I step onto the rubber mat and stalk away.
“If something like that ever happens again, there won’t be a place for you on my team,” Coach Philips says gruffly.
I pause as my shoulders stiffen.
It wasn’t all that long ago this had been my team.
Mine.
“Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
I slam into the locker room before jamming my stick into the holder and dropping onto the bench. It’s only now that I’m alone in the quiet of the echoing space that I realize how hard I’m breathing and how fast my heart is racing. The way it slams into my ribcage makes it feel like it’ll burst from my chest.
I unsnap the strap and rip off my helmet in one smooth movement. It’s tempting to hurl it across the room, but I manage to hang onto my temper by a thread. I suck in a deep breath before holding it hostage in my lungs. Only when it feels like they’re on the verge of exploding do I slowly release it back into the atmosphere. I repeat the exercise a handful of times until my muscles loosen and the red haze filling my vision finally clears.
Sweat drips down the back of my neck and clings to my forehead.
I shouldn’t have reacted to what Akeman said. This is our fourth year playing together. From the very beginning, we’ve rubbed each other the wrong way. The guy has always been a shit talker. I should be used to it by now. Under normal circumstances, I’d let him run his mouth without missing a single beat. I’d block out his taunting barbs and focus on the scrimmage at hand.