Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 30715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
He scrutinizes my expression and then gives me a chin lift.
"You going to tell him?"
"That was always the plan," I mutter, grabbing my helmet from the bench. "But she wanted to wait until after the Playoffs." I shoot him a look. "What would you do if the only way you could be with Charlotte was by playing by her rules?"
"I'd play the best goddamn game of my life," he says without hesitation.
"Yeah, exactly."
"You're in love with her."
I don't answer him. She'll be the first one to hear those words leave my lips, not this asshole. But he can read between the lines.
He smirks at me, shaking his head. "I'll say something nice at your funeral."
I flip him off, shoving my helmet down on my head for the skate out.
"Where the fuck is my lucky glove?" Wes shouts from the opposite side of the locker room as Coach MacAthie pops his head into the locker room to wave us out.
"It's under the bench where you dropped it." Gray points.
Organized chaos erupts in the locker room as we all grab our shit and head out. All except Jonas, anyway. He's still on the bench, fucking with his phone.
"You coming?" I ask, stopping beside him.
"What?" He glances up and then frowns. "Oh, shit. Yeah." He tosses his phone in his bag and grabs his helmet, hauling himself to his feet. We exit the locker room together. He's oddly quiet. Usually, he's driving everyone fucking nuts before a game.
"What's up with you?"
"Parker isn't coming," he mutters. "She said she isn't feeling well." The groove between his brows deepens. "She's been acting weird as fuck lately. I think she's still pissed at me."
I barely hear the last part. All I can focus on is the fact that she won't be here tonight. She ran. Fuck.
Fuck.
"What do you think?" Jonas asks.
"About what?"
"Parker? Think she's still pissed at me?"
No, I think she's terrified she's going to lose you.
I don't say that, though. I'm too busy worrying that I may lose her.
I take out my frustrations on the ice. Our first line—Kris, Theo, Wes, Jonas, and Gray—are untouchable. So is the second line. We didn't come here to lose in our own house. We came to win.
The Wilds can't keep up. By the time the buzzer sounds, they've pulled their goalie to put an extra skater on the ice, but it's a Hail Mary doomed to fail. Theo sinks the puck right before the final buzzer, and we win by three.
I rush through my brief discussion with one of the local news outlets and then hit the locker room to shower. There's a celebration in the Presidents' Lounge, but I skip out on it. As soon as I'm able, I duck out, determined to find Parker so we can hash this shit out.
I'm not losing her, not now and not ever. I'll do whatever it takes to convince her not to give up on us now. Fuck, I have to convince her. I'm not sure I'll survive if I don't.
Her car is in the driveway when I pull in at Jonas's. I'm not worried about him getting home and finding me here. He and Jamie were heading up to the Presidents' Lounge when I left. They'll be there for a while.
I jog up to the front door, my eyes peeled for Jonas's crazy-ass goat. The damn thing thinks he's a guard dog. He's rammed my ass with his hard head more times than I care to count.
Shep, Tye, and Yoda, his Border Collies, are hanging out on the front porch. They recognize me and don't even bark. Yoda lopes over to me for attention, but Shep and Tye don't even move. I'm not stupid enough to believe they're harmless, though. Shep guards this property like his life depends on it. If he doesn't know or like you, you aren't getting far.
Luckily, he likes me.
I don't bother knocking. I punch in the code on the smart-lock and let myself in.
My heart breaks when I see Parker curled up on the couch in her jersey, her eyes red and puffy. Judging by the pile of discarded tissue beside her, she's been crying most of the night.
"Little one."
She lifts her head, blinking when she sees me. "Kellan?"
"Yeah, Rebel. It's me."
Tears well in her eyes, and she whimpers.
I'm across the room to her in three steps.
"You shouldn't be here," she cries, trying to push me away when I scoop her up into my arms.
"To hell with that. This is exactly where I should be."
"Jonas," she says, melting into me even as she tries to convince me to leave. She can't help herself. Does she even know she's in love with me yet? Or does she still think she's lying to her brother for whatever ridiculous reason she concocted days ago?
"He's still at the arena, Rebel." I stand upright with her in my arms, heading for the stairs. "Which room is yours?"