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)
Real life was definitely stranger than fiction.
Of course, it was too dark in the bar to be sure the new guy and the billboard model were one and the same. There might be some other reason he seemed familiar, and if I were a normal person, I’d march up to him right now and ask him point blank. Even if I was dead wrong, a selfie with this guy would be worth its weight in gold. My teammates would think I was some kind of hero. As the new, quiet, awkward rookie on the team, it was social currency I desperately needed.
But introducing myself to a stranger was—no way. I’d need alcohol for that.
Well, I was in the right place for it, I mused as the decibel level returned to normal and conversation at my table resumed to the usual friendly banter and basic catch-up involving hockey, more hockey, and a little town gossip.
Abe was dating a girl from Fallbrook, Micah talked about doing a marathon in spite of the fact that he hated running, and Niall had signed on to do some coaching for the junior varsity team.
“Coach Smitty wants to spend more time with his family and I want to spend less time at the mill, so…it works out,” Niall said.
“Did you hear that Coach Smitty and Mr. Milligan have another kiddo on the way?” MK reported. “How cute is that?”
“Three kids under five years old? Sounds terrifying,” Micah huffed.
I nodded absently, intermittently participating in the conversation while clandestinely checking out the cowboy straddling a stool ten feet away.
Oh, and I drank.
A lot.
Our pitcher was never empty, and shots showed up with alarming regularity. I usually passed my alcohol on to my friends who all had better tolerance than I did, but I was hopelessly distracted tonight.
It wasn’t just the cowboy. I had shit on my mind.
My fledgling career and living up to that stupid nickname, being in Colorado and the memories it stirred, the weirdness of the new status of my relationship with MK, the homesickness…in short, I was anxious about every fucking thing lately. Were my skates tight enough? What time was my flight? Did I check Grams’s smoke alarms?
I’d been told I had obsessive-compulsive tendencies and that was probably true. I had a hard time relaxing and if a little buzz shook a layer of anxiety off tonight, I was all for it.
I drank at least three more beers and powered through a few complimentary tequila shots over the next hour and damn, that shit worked!
Seriously. In my tequila-and-beer haze, life was grand and I loved everything and everyone. My new team rocked, Denver was freaking amazing, and being besties with my ex was awesome sauce. And that cowboy over there…damn, I’d do him in a heartbeat.
Or he could do me.
As long as he kept the hat on. Even better if we could do it in front of the foggy mirror on the wall leading to the restrooms. That was the kind of pornolicious hotness I’d need to see. Our jeans around our ankles, his fingers digging into my hips, my hand on my cock and—
Oh, shit. I was drunk.
“D’ya guys ’member that time we went bowling in Pinecrest and Niall threw a strike in the lane next to ours?” I snickered. “It was so funny. I love bowling. We should go bowling. Want to go now? Let’s go bowling.”
Micah pushed the pitcher out of my reach and glanced at MK. “Are you taking the lightweight home?”
“Yep, I got him.” MK furrowed her brow and whispered, “You okay?”
I beamed, swaying slightly on my stool. “I’m great.”
“Hmm. I have to coach tomorrow morning, so…if you’re ready, I’ll drive you.”
I nodded. “Okay, I can say hi now.”
“To who?”
“You know…” I motioned for her to come closer and probably would have confessed that I was crushing pretty hard on the guy at the bar, but the room started to spin just as a wave of heat engulfed my face. “Iz me or is it really warm in here?”
MK patted my arm. “Let’s go, big guy.”
I said my good-byes, grabbed my jacket, and followed MK.
This was perfect. I could walk up to the stranger at the bar and say, “Yo, stranger. You’re hot.”
Ha! No, just kidding. I would never, ever, ever… But I could practice being social in a normal way and go with, “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
Nah, that sounded like a cheesy pickup line. I could do better than that.
“Good night, Denny.” Mr. Kinney shoved his hand at me, congratulated me on my season, and basically said a lot of words that smooshed together in my brain. I smiled a lot and thanked him, scanning the bar for the cowboy and—
He was gone. What the fuck?
“Denny?”
“Uh, yeah. Coming.” I took one last look as I stepped under the black awning, shivering at the blast of frigid winter air. “Geez, it’s cold out here. But it was hot in there and this feels better. Mush better.”