Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I guess like the scum of the ice I am.
I squeeze my eyes shut, banging my head into the pillow. Maybe it will help get the image of her out of my head. Or at least give me a concussion so I’ll soon forget. I should call her. Or text. I don’t like that she is staying in the apartment by herself. I don’t like that I’m not there. I thought staying away would help, but it hasn’t done shit other than make me miserable. I fucking hate feeling like this. It’s intolerable.
When I groan loudly, Flynn yells, “Bro, what is going on? You’ve been here since last night, doing just that, and it’s fucking annoying! Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Need more than that,” he says. “You don’t know what to do about your big-ass ego? You don’t know what to do about your crooked big toe? You don’t—”
“Oh my God, shut up.”
He chuckles at that. “Does it have to do with Austen?”
“Yes.”
“Hockey?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I love twenty questions with the Russian Stallion, gag, but can you just tell me what’s going on?”
I turn my head against the pillow to find him watching me. “Why do you gag when you call me that?”
“Because it’s the stupidest nickname ever.”
I give him a pointed look. “Yes, ’cause Flynn Ryder is better.”
He points the controller at me, his brows coming in. “Tangled is the best Disney movie ever made. You’re just jealous you aren’t as cool as me.”
I scoff at that. I’m more of an Aladdin kind of guy ’cause Jasmine is hot, but whatever. None of that matters or is even a concern right now. I tell him about Shelli first and then how my parents and Elli confronted me at the wedding. How Mr. Davenport isn’t a fan and how deeply I got into my head. I try to look for the answer by talking it through with him, but I don’t see it. I don’t know what’s right or wrong. All I know is what I feel. What I want. But I’m unsure that is enough. Flynn listens, not saying a word, like the best friend he is.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say, moving my face back into the pillow. My voice is muffled, but I know he can hear me. “Then she was abused, so I get why her grandpa is so overprotective. But damn it, I care for her. Truly, I do. What if my parents are right? What if Elli is right, and Davenport comes for me? Bro, it’s trash, for sure.”
“Yeah, that’s a whole lot of what-the-fuck,” he says, and I nod into the pillow. “But you know how this business is. It’s old-boy shit. You can’t get involved with an owner’s kid and think things are going to be peachy.”
“I was already in too deep before I even knew who she was—or that Davenport could have power like that. I still don’t give a shit who her grandpa is,” I say, and I push myself up. “I don’t care about any of that, even what my parents said. Yeah, being in a relationship is hard. I’ve seen people struggle—”
“Emery and Quinn are prime examples,” Flynn supplies.
“Yes, but then there are your parents, mine—hell, Shea and Elli,” I throw back at him, and he shrugs. “I have faith in myself that I’ll do right by her, but I don’t know. I’m scared.”
“I can tell,” he says softly, holding my gaze, concern coming off him in waves. “For me, I know you’re going to make the roster. Your time on ice is higher than it was, your strength is top-notch, and your scoring has been on point. I really don’t see Shelli stopping you because of Austen. But then, I don’t know if she’s being genuine with how she feels about your apology. She could use that as an excuse.”
“Right, and I don’t want any resentment between Austen and me.”
“There wouldn’t be, though,” he says, and I make a face. “Hear me out,” he says, holding his hand up to stop my words. “I’ve watched you flirt, tease, and offer this girl your cock on a silver platter, and she kept batting you away like old-school fucking Tate Odder in net, okay?” I snort at that because he’s not wrong. “She has given it to you just as hard as you gave it to her. She didn’t back down, and every day, you were right there, trying all over again. Just for a smile or that giggle she does.”
“I love that giggle,” I mutter, and he nods.
“You haven’t asked her out, you haven’t pushed your feelings on her, you’ve been good with how it’s going, and you haven’t complained once.”
“There isn’t anything to complain about. I just like being with her.”
“Yeah, but most guys wouldn’t wait this long for a girl to notice them or accept that she notices you.”