Kiss My Pucking Bass (Kings of Denver #3) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Kings of Denver Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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“Go on,” Coach instructs.

I take a deep breath and continue my explanation. “I sought out a gym early in the season so I could continue my MMA training. I met with a trainer, and he incorporated my hockey training with his. We got to talking and he asked me what I wanted, and we found a solution that would allow me to live in both worlds. And honestly, Coach, I’m fucking good. Great, even. With my skills, I can win this thing.”

“How is winning the Underground supposed to help?” he asks. “Sounds like an excuse to me.”

I shake my head. “Each fight, the winner takes home a sum of money, and as you progress up the leaderboard, that sum increases. So, with the winnings I’ve already earned, I can put a deposit on my own home and be out from under my father’s hold. However, if I were to take out the competition, I could put myself through college, build my own gym, and afford to train for the professional circuit,” I tell him. “I know illegal fighting is not ideal, but it’s all I’ve got to keep myself afloat.”

He lets out a sigh, looking at me while deep in thought. “You’re one of my best players, Xander. I wanted to offer you the place of captain next season. So, understand me when I tell you it kills me that this is the situation you’re in, but my back is up against the wall. I have to let you go.”

“I understand, Coach,” I nod. “I thought this could happen, and I was prepared for it. I just hoped I’d be able to see the season out first.”

“What am I going to tell the boys?” he murmurs to himself.

I look down at my hands, unsure how to answer that, but I go on anyway. “Coach, it may not seem like it, but hockey has been a part of my life for a long time, and I’m devastated that I can no longer be a part of this team. The team you’ve got here . . . fuck, they’re the best I’ve ever skated with. It’s a family here, but despite all of that, hockey just isn’t my passion, and I hope you can understand that I need to do what’s right for me.”

“Kid, you need to know that if the professional circuit is what you want to do, then you have my full support, even though I don’t support the Underground bullshit. It’s dangerous, and you’re a fucking idiot for getting yourself involved in it. Let me be clear, I’m pissed as hell at you for not being forthcoming. Had news of this spread to the media, the team would have been fucked.”

“I know, Coach, and I apologize.”

He lets out a heavy sigh while shaking his head, probably still wondering how he’s going to get around this. “Alright, kid,” he says, accepting my apology. “Get out of here. I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to tell the press.”

“Shit,” I groan. “You won’t say anything about the Underground, right?”

He gives me a blank stare like that’s the stupidest question he has ever been asked, and honestly, it is. I should know Coach wouldn’t throw me under the bus like that. “No,” he says, “I’ll probably say that you have decided to put a hold on your hockey career while you pursue other avenues.”

“Hmm,” I grunt. “Not bad.”

“Not my first rodeo,” he explains.

“Got it,” I say, getting up from my chair and making my way out of his office.

“Xander,” he calls after me. I turn back to meet his stare, only this time, it doesn’t look quite so ruthless. “Be careful,” he says. “I’ve witnessed a few of those fights and it never ends well. I don’t want to be walking into your hospital room, finding you attached to life support.”

“I know, Coach,” I say with a nod. “I’m careful. I should warn you though, the moment my father hears about this, he’s going to be busting down your door.”

“Let him. I have a few choice words for bastards like him.”

I hold his stare, something aching in my chest. “Thanks, Coach,” I say with a smile, feeling as though I’ve just been handed my future on a silver platter. It’s bittersweet, though. One door closes as another opens. It doesn’t change my disappointment about not seeing the season through. I wanted to be there for my boys.

I walk back out to the rink with a strange sadness filling me. I knew this day was coming, but for it to actually happen is a whole other thing. There has never been a time in my life when I’ve not been on a team, and suddenly, I’m free to take my own path. I don’t know whether to be nervous or excited. Maybe both?


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