Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
All these years later, it fucking sucked to know that the climb to greatness was steeper than I’d realized.
And now, time ticked like a doomsday gong.
I wished I could conjure four more goals out of thin air and save the day, but that wasn’t going to happen. This was why I hated that fucking nickname. I could see the headline now: “Hotshot Unable to Deliver.” The promising rookie who’d failed…in front of some of his favorite people, no less.
Coach Smitty was here with Bryson and their kids; Mary-Kate was here with her dad and her uncles, Vinnie and Nolan; and I was pretty sure Niall, Micah, and Abe were in the stands somewhere too. Grams couldn’t make it. She was still a ballbuster, but she was frail and I didn’t want to worry about her worrying about me, so it was for the best.
Hank wasn’t here either. Again, for the best.
However, I superstitiously wondered if I’d have played better if he was in the building. Like some kind of good luck charm.
Three seconds, two seconds, and…buzz.
My first season in the NHL was officially over.
Jake skated to my side and pulled me in for a bear hug. He was my height and lean like me with dark-blond hair, blue eyes, and a winning smile. As much as I was bummed for my team, I was happy for him.
“Congratulations,” I said in his ear, aware of the swarming cameras.
“Thanks. Great game, Den. Great series.” He patted my shoulder and punched my chest in a bro show of affection. “I’ll see you this summer.”
“Bring it home, man.”
“It” was the cup, never to be mentioned by name until it became a reality. I wanted it for myself, but if it couldn’t be me this year, I hoped it was him. Elmwood deserved a win.
Jake grinned and moved on to celebrate with his teammates while I commiserated with mine.
I was bummed for sure, and after an agonizingly awkward press conference, I was even more frazzled. How many ways were there to say “Losing sucks, it’s been a good year, looking forward to next season?”
But the second I spotted my friends waiting for me in the corridor afterward, my heart squeezed in my chest. I blocked out the photographers who followed me and greeted them, falling into a monster group hug with some of my favorite people in the world.
Cameras clicked and for once, I didn’t give a fuck.
Then Mary-Kate pulled me aside and launched herself at me, wrapping her arms and legs around me like an octopus. It was a silly post-game tradition she’d started in high school well before we were more than friends. She’d said it was her way of getting me to loosen up and not take every win or loss so seriously. It worked. Sixteen-year-old me had looked for her after the games, and I supposed that was how we’d begun.
We were over now, but apparently, the octopus hug tradition remained. I didn’t expect the fierce lip mash, though. Cameras clicked away, and our friends hooted.
I laughed as I released her. “What was that for?”
“Just giving them something to talk about.”
“Your new boyfriend won’t like those pics,” I teased, peeling her off me, limb by limb.
“Meh, that didn’t work out. And someone somewhere would comment if I didn’t greet you properly. Can’t have that,” MK said breezily. She met my concerned gaze a moment later and went still, whispering, “Oh, shit. You met someone.”
“What? No,” I sputtered.
“You’re blushing! I love it. I can’t wait to hear all about her.”
Okay, she was messing with me now, riling me up to get my mind off the cameras and press and a harsh loss. She knew me well, ’cause yeah, it still worked.
“There is no her, MK.”
“Mmhmm, sure.” She laced her fingers in mine and tugged my arm. “Are you ready to go home?”
Yeah, I was ready.
I missed Elmwood, I missed Grams, and…I missed Hank.
It was just sinking in that we’d have the whole summer together.
Sure, we were using each other for sex and profit and things I should have been ashamed to want, but fuck it. I didn’t care. This summer was going to be all about saying yes before I had to say no again.
10
HANK
Elmwood loved hockey. We established that, right? But I had no idea their love of the sport was borderline cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Seriously, Denny’s homecoming was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. The town pulled out all stops for their NHL hero and then some.
Check this out: A welcome home banner spanned the width of Main Street, and every storefront pasted his number on their door. The Hendersons named a brownie for him—Denny’s decadent brownie, in case you’re curious. Ivan and Court gave a free “drink of choice” for a day at Rise and Grind, and all the baristas wore Denny’s jersey.