Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Fuck. It’s barely been twelve hours since I stood over her, and the chick is already messing with my head. I promised Coach Harris that there will be no fuck-ups this season. I need to get this shit sorted. I have a career on the line.
I’ve been tossing and turning since the second I got into bed, and when I realize sleep isn’t going to come, I throw my blankets off and sit up in bed. Grabbing my phone, I let out a sigh when I see it’s only 3:45 in the morning. The only thing that’s going to calm me down is getting on the ice, apart from confronting Cassie and getting some goddamn answers out of her, but I don’t think that’s a good option right now. The rink doesn’t open until six, and even then, the figure fairies have it booked out all day, so I go with the next best thing.
Pulling on some clothes and my runners, I take off like a bat out of hell. I push through the front door, letting it slam closed behind me, not caring who the fuck it wakes up inside. I breathe in the fresh air as I try my hardest to concentrate on the feel of the concrete path under my feet, and I push myself harder, but the thoughts of Cassie still remain.
With each new step, I find myself back in that classroom, waiting for Professor Macintosh to call out my name while a blonde bombshell a few rows down was busy eye fucking me. I had my whole day planned out. I was going to skip my next class, take the blonde home and screw her until she couldn’t walk, then I was going to train and spend the night partying with my boys.
Until my whole world came to a standstill when I heard the name that’s been haunting me since I was twelve years old. It used to give me a different sort of rush, but now all it does is make my chest ache for all the things that could have been.
At first, I thought my mind must have been playing tricks on me. There was no way Professor Macintosh had gotten that right. Maybe I’d misheard him or some prick was pulling a twisted prank on me. There’s no way Cassandra Waters would be back in Denver. She left over three years ago and never looked back.
My heart stopped when I saw that familiar wave of chestnut hair. Then the goddess had to go and turn around, blinding me with that perfect smile. The smile I still think about every night before falling asleep. The smile that could bring me out of my worst depression and give me the strength to keep pushing on. The smile that could easily drop me to my knees.
I saw the exact moment she noticed me beside Bobby. That beautiful face of hers fell, that smile dropped away, and that sun-kissed skin immediately turned white. I would have given anything to take away her pain, but my anger and frustrations took over.
My eyes didn’t move from her for one second as I watched her jam her bag full of her things and wait for the clock to count down. I knew she was planning to run, but I was going to beat her at her own game. I stood up when my name was called and still have no idea who my partner is for that stupid assignment. All that mattered was Cass.
I took my seat and watched the clock right along with her. With ten seconds to go, I saw Professor Macintosh scowl at me as I started making my way down the stairs. Her body shifted, ready to run, but she wasn’t going to make it. I stepped up behind her and slammed my hands down on either side of her.
That same fruity smell of her shampoo was nearly enough to paralyze me. I took a deep breath in and was assaulted by the feeling of home as my mind jolted back to the past. “Cass,” I whispered as I hovered over her, the desperate need to bring my arms in and hold her.
I clenched my fists to regain some sort of control, but it was shattered the moment I saw a perfectly round teardrop fall from her cheek and come crashing down on the table. My thumb struck out without thought and wiped away her spilled tear before I was out the door like a lightning bolt.
Why does she get to cry about it? She’s the one who left. She’s the one who ran.
To say my afternoon was shit is an understatement. I went home, punched a hole through my wall, and nearly got into a fistfight with Bobby during training. I spent my night trying to work my frustrations out at the gym, but here I am at just after four in the morning and the frustrations are still riding high.