Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Poor guy. He didn’t stand a fucking chance with that one. Livia was the kind of woman who would chew him up and spit him out just for fun.
Then again, maybe that’s all he wanted.
“Ah, too bad,” Carter said. “I’m sure they miss me.”
Vince rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes. You’re all my fiancée talks about.”
“Obviously,” Carter said. “You know who will be here tonight, though?” He paused for dramatic emphasis, waggling his brows. “Mia Fucking Love.”
“What?!”
“No fucking way.”
“Mia bloody Love?”
“As in the Mia Love?”
“Bullshit.”
“Siiiick!”
All these responses came at once from various teammates, and I had to fight back a snort at the guys who were high-fiving each other as if they had a chance in hell of the biggest pop star on the planet so much as looking their way.
“Ah, she’s alright,” Jaxson said when some of the team quieted. “But she doesn’t have shit on my girl.”
Vince gagged. “Bro.”
“What are you girls screaming about over here?” Aleks grumbled, finally joining us. He’d skated off to take a few more lazy laps around the ice when Carter showed up — probably because he and Carter didn’t particularly get along. Aleks was quick to rag on Carter in the short time they played together earlier in the season before Carter got sent down to the AHL.
My bet was Carter wouldn’t soon forget his comments.
“Mia Love is coming to the game tonight,” Coach McCabe answered, and I think we all shit ourselves a bit because we hadn’t realized he’d come out from where he was back in the locker room with the training staff and one of our injured defensemen.
There were some muttered oh shit’s before most everyone got back on the ice, pretending like they hadn’t been fucking around.
“Which doesn’t matter to us, because our focus is on winning, right?” Coach added, pointedly — mostly at our younger players who looked quite sheepish.
“What did you say?”
Coach turned to Aleks, who asked that question not in a prickish way like usual, but in an almost out of breath manner.
“Mia Love. Pop star,” Coach added, as if that woman needed any introduction. She was the most well-known human on the planet. Her tour last year had grossed more than Elton John’s farewell tour.
I watched as Suter’s brows slid together, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard in his throat.
And then, I swore against all fucking logic that the corner of his mouth curled into something very much resembling a smile.
Not a cocky grin, not a sneer — a genuine smile.
It shocked me almost as much as when my daughter did the same the other night, and Aleks wobbled past us and toward the locker room, mumbling something about taking a quick break.
Coach and I watched him go, blinking at his back and then at each other.
“That was interesting,” Coach surmised, a thumb pointed over his shoulder to where Aleks had disappeared.
“Or creepy,” I volleyed. “I think his smile scares me more than his scowl. What the fuck was that about?”
“I heard they grew up together.”
Coach and I whipped our heads toward Carter, and it was like Coach just realized he was there. He grinned and pulled him in for a hug, squeezing his shoulder when they broke apart.
“Who?” I asked.
“Him and Mia.”
“No fucking way,” Vince said, crossing his arms and leaning against the boards. “How does that make sense? He grew up in Germany, no?”
“Her parents were his billet family,” Jaxson said, chugging from his water bottle. “Pretty sure he lived with them through high school — at least during the hockey seasons.”
Coach’s lips turned down in a huh gesture, like this was news to him, but nothing too wild to believe. Carter grinned wryly like he knew something the rest of us didn’t. And I just blinked.
Because I’d never seen that asshole show any kind of emotion that came close to what flashed across his face at the mention of her.
My wheels were spinning the rest of the day, and when we crushed New York four to one that night, we had Aleks Suter to thank.
He scored three times — a hat trick.
He didn’t get even one penalty.
And at the end of every period, I swore I saw his gaze sweeping the suites like he was looking for someone.
Apologize One More Time…
Chloe
It was a quiet Wednesday evening in the pool house when Ava came sprinting into my bedroom in a full-blown panic.
Well, as much of a panic as she could show, anyway.
I was kicked back on the bed finishing up my mushroom cross-stitch that I planned to turn into a pillow, periodically texting in the group chat with my mom and grandma. They’d been asking for constant updates since I moved in — and also begging me to come visit. I’d been so busy between school and Ava, though, that I hadn’t had the time yet. So, for now, group texts and phone calls would have to do.