Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
"Nothing."
Gray and Kellan share a look.
"There's nothing up with me."
"You're skating like your balls hurt." Logan nods at my junk.
"He probably chafed in those fucking shorts he was wearing on the 'Gram the other day." Gray straightens up to strike a pose like a bodybuilder, making everyone laugh. "The goddamn things were indecent."
"I wasn't on the 'Gram the other day."
"Uh, yeah, you were." Kellan wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face. "Kelsey posted a photo of you from the weight room."
"Ah, goddammit," I groan. "No fucking wonder my damn phone looks like a cougar's playground right now. I wondered why they were all so excited about a picture of Shep chasing a fucking cow."
Logan laughs so hard that he nearly loses his balance.
"You should get ball hammocks."
Logan, Kellan, and I all turn to look at Gray like he's lost his damn mind. Though, frankly, I'm not sure if he had one in the first place. The man is probably one of the smartest people on the team. Which, now that I think of it, is embarrassing as hell for the rest of us. But it's true all the same. He's smart. He's also an idiot.
"What the fuck is a ball hammock?" Kellan growls, his dark brows furrowed.
"It's underwear." Gray shrugs, tossing his water toward the bench. "It has a little hammock for your balls. They're comfortable as fuck." He jerks his head in my direction. "And if he's going to wear those goddamn daisy dukes, it'll keep his shit from chafing."
"Jesus Christ," I mutter. "My balls aren't chafed."
"Then why are you skating bowl-legged?"
"I'm not."
"Yeah, you are." Gray pushes away from the boards and skates a few feet onto the ice, his thighs spread like he's imitating me. The bastard. "This is you, all morning."
"That is not me."
"Uh, that's exactly what you look like," Logan disagrees.
Kellan wipes a hand down his face to hide a smirk.
"Whatever," I mutter, flipping them all off before I chug the rest of my Gatorade.
"Holy shit, Jonas got laid," Logan says.
Gray and Kellan both whip their heads in my direction, staring me down. I avoid their gazes, tossing my bottle toward the trashcan beside the bench. I'm not talking to them about Jamie. Not like this. What happens between us is our goddamn business, not theirs. She isn't a puck bunny. She isn't a quick fuck.
I'm in love with her. I've been in love with her for months now, and I'm only falling deeper.
"He did get laid," Gray says, shock in his voice. "Holy shit. Who is she?"
"She isn't your business," I growl.
"Do we know her? Is she hot?" Logan waggles his brows. "Is she a puck bunny?"
"If you want to keep your teeth, shut the fuck up," I warn him, shoving my hands behind my back to keep from grabbing him by his jersey.
He holds his hands up, smirking.
Son of a bitch. He set me up for that one.
"So she isn't a puck bunny," he says softly. "She means something to you."
I look at him and then at Gray and Kellan, who are both watching me curiously. Gray is smirking in amusement. Kellan doesn't seem surprised. He knew something was up when I found him after I sent Jamie home at Dionysus. He didn't ask any questions, though. Kellan rarely asks questions. He minds his own fucking business.
"Yeah, she means something," I say quietly, not lying to them. I won't hide her from them. I won't lie about her to them. She and I are happening, regardless of what anyone thinks or has to say about it. I just want to give her a heads-up before I announce it to the world. She should have a say before her world descends into chaos…and it will inevitably descend into chaos. People pay way too much fucking attention to who we date.
Like Theo. Apparently, he finally claimed his girl, Charlotte, and the whole goddamn world is going crazy trying to find out who she is. We closed practice today because of it.
"Hey, Girl Scouts!" Wes shouts. "Are you going to quit gossiping so we can get back to practice, or should I build a fucking campfire for you?"
"Is anyone else ready to beat him with his own damn stick?" Kellan mutters, narrowing his eyes at Wes, who's glaring at us from across the ice.
"Fuck yes," I growl.
"Tootles, fucker," Wes says, smirking at me as he snatches the puck off the end of my stick and takes off at a dead sprint down the ice. The bastard is fast. He's also playing like his damn life depends on it. Impending fatherhood has given him way too much energy.
I growl a curse and take off after him with Gray and Kellan a few yards behind me.
"Go, Wes!" Laney shouts from the stands as our skates cut across the ice, rapidly closing the distance between us and the goal. The puck dances along the end of Wes's stick as he expertly maneuvers it to take a shot.