Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I can’t help wondering where all the hockey stuff is because Rainn Richardson is hockey.
Or … he was.
“You look like you’re concentrating pretty hard over there. What are you thinking about?”
“Where’s all your hockey stuff?”
His face pinches.
“I know you don’t play anymore, but, I mean, you can’t leave a sport like hockey with nothing to show for it.”
“I assure you, you can.” He sits on the futon and picks up the remote for the TV. “Okay, what are we watching?”
I sit next to him, making sure to leave a big enough gap between us so I’m not tempted to move closer. “Why do you hate talking about hockey so much?”
“You know, social courtesy also extends to guests not asking such nosy questions.”
“Okay, fine, you don’t have to tell me, but one day, you’ll talk about it. I’ll be too charming to resist.”
Rainn tries to squash a smile. “How’s that charm thing working out for you, virgin?”
I hold my heart. “Help. It hurts! It hurts so bad.”
Rainn laughs. “You’re too much.”
“I’ve made a decision,” I declare.
“Oh, have you?”
He probably thinks I mean I’ve made a decision about what we’re going to watch, but it’s nothing like that.
“I’m going to repay my debt to you for being my wingman by making you fall in love with hockey again.”
Rainn scoffs. “Good luck.”
I don’t think I’m going to need it. He wouldn’t have an aversion to hockey now if he hadn’t truly loved it at one point. I may not have big dreams of professional hockey, but I live and breathe the sport, and any hockey fan understands the hype.
Rainn has to see that he can still have hockey in his life without playing.
I take the remote from him and begin to search for a movie. “I’m thinking we watch The Mighty Ducks. Ooh, or Youngblood.”
“It’s not going to work,” Rainn warns.
“Let’s try it.”
I try to contain my victory dance as he chooses The Mighty Ducks to stream.
“Pfft. These stupid movies and their triple dekes. It’s not even a thing.”
This isn’t the first time Rainn’s made that comment. I’ve forced him to sit through countless hockey movies, from Slapshot to Goon, and now we’re back onto the rest of the Mighty Ducks trilogy.
Our movie night has kind of become a routine, and it’s crazy how quickly and easily we settle into a pattern. I live for Saturday and Sunday nights, whichever night I can get to Vino and Veritas to spend time with Rainn.
If I have an away game, I’ll go on a Sunday night and not drink so I can get back home for morning chores, but my favorite nights are when I can escape to the bar after a home game and stay at Rainn’s.
He sits slouched beside me in his usual spot, his legs spread wide as he rests his head along the back of the futon, and his usual, ever-present scowl is on his face.
Even though he claims to hate the movies, rips apart all the inconsistencies, and is his grumpy, grunty self when it comes to anything hockey, I know something is getting through to him because he never once says no to watching them.
I wish I could be deluded and say he does it so he can keep seeing me, but everyone with eyes knows that’s not the case.
That crush I’ve been harboring? It might be getting out of hand.
Rainn turns his head to look at me. “Nothing to say?”
Nope. I’m too busy admiring his long torso in a shirt that’s so tight I can see every definition and contour of his abs. I’m too busy drooling.
Ugh, this has got to stop.
“So what if there’s no such thing as a triple deke? It’s not like the rest of this movie is filled with complete accuracy. Just enjoy it, you big grump.”
Rainn’s shiny blue eyes narrow. “Just for that …” His big body moves closer, and my cock twitches.
Not a night goes by where I stay here and don’t have a hard-on. Luckily, Rainn keeps the bedding for this piece-of-shit futon handy. I can cover my lap with my pillow, but if I do that now, while he’s moving closer to me, it won’t only draw attention to my dick thickening in my pants, it will be a giant beacon telling Rainn, Hey, my cock likes you.
So I hold my breath as Rainn practically pushes himself against me.
I have no idea what the fuck is going on right now. This can’t be happening, right?
“Uh, Rainn?”
His mouth is so close now his breath is on my cheek. Then his hand slowly comes up, and I swear to God he’s going to touch my face. I realize too late what he’s actually doing.
He picks up the remote next to me, grins, and then moves back to his side of the futon. “Thanks.”