Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to date the guy.” She pouts. “I just want him to spank me, Kole.”
I glance over at where Asher’s watching the guys on the ice with the kind of intensity that would melt me in the bedroom. “Oh, babe. Don’t we all?”
Once Dad finally calls an end to the torture session, Katey helps me pack shit up. We agree to meet at her car after I tell Dad I’ve got a ride.
Good timing too. I doubt he’s getting out of here anytime soon.
When I get to his office, he’s in there with Coach Dalton and Beck, ranting about the game tomorrow.
I lean against the doorframe and lightly knock. “You need to calm down, old man. That blood pressure will get the better of you one of these days.”
He opens his mouth like he’s about to rip me apart when he seems to remember that, oh yeah, I’m his kid and not one of his players. We’ve had so many arguments over me wanting him to treat me like his son instead of the athlete he wishes I was. I always find it amusing the way he forces a steadying breath because it does nothing at all for his temper.
“Kole. We’re in the middle—”
“I know. I’m going out with Katey, so I’ll see you back at home.”
He acknowledges me with a half-hearted wave, still looking the kind of stressed that makes me worried. So before I can leave, I walk over to the minifridge in his office, grab out a Gatorade, and drop it on his desk. “Hydrate.”
He waves me off but immediately reaches for the bottle.
I’m almost clear of the room when Coach Dalton calls me back.
“Wait, Kole.”
My stomach drops. I know without him asking that this is going to be another Asher request, and while I like Asher, and I want to help him, Coach Dalton asking me to do it is starting to make me feel uncomfortable.
“We were just talking about what the team did last year to fix the issues they were having. Asher ended up making friends with one of his line mates, Cohen, and the more they hung out, the more things started to work. We need something like that with him and Simms.”
I think back to the derision in Asher’s voice when he mentioned them hanging out and braiding each other’s hair. “You want me to invite them for a sleepover and try to get them to sing kumbaya? There’s no way that’ll happen. If you haven’t noticed, I have no pull with any of the players.”
“You do with Asher,” Coach Dalton says. “He told me how you helped him study the other night.”
“Kole.” Dad looks me in the eye and uses the pleading tone he only brings out when he really wants something. He’s tried it so many times to get me to go back to hockey. His posture, the way he holds his head down … the man is defeated. “I don’t know what else to do with those two.”
Even Beck’s looking at me now, and for some reason, the three of them thinking I can fix this, fix Asher, sends a jolt of anger through me. “What happened to not taking on another pet project?” I ask Dad.
His lips quirk. “Blood pressure, kid.”
“Yeah, because talking to Asher never sent anyone’s blood pressure sky-high. I have to go.”
I turn on my heel, yet the whole walk out to Katey’s car, I want to go find Asher instead. I want to do what they’ve asked, but since they’ve asked me, I can’t. I’m uncomfortably aware of how Asher would feel to know we were all standing around talking about him and how to make him play nice. Just look at his reaction after he found out Coach Dalton told me about his parents. He’d be pissed to know they think they can use me to get in his ear and control his decisions.
Which is laughable anyway.
Asher might think he’s stupid, but he’s smart enough to know when he’s being manipulated into doing something he doesn’t want to do.
And so am I.
Which is why I leave the arena and put today behind me.
After all, I couldn’t care less if they win or lose this weekend.
I’m a lying liar who lies.
I care. I care more than I ever have for one of Dad’s games before. Dad’s face has turned a splotchy kind of red, Asher looks like he wants to hit something, and this entire game is one big embarrassment, so yes. I care.
Damn it. I’m catching the hockey.
Beck is practically twitching beside me, muttering plays under his breath.
“You okay?”
He shakes his head. “You have no idea how frustrating it is to be sitting here. Now I know why your dad was always so angry when I went rogue out there.”
“Aren’t you planning on opening some kind of hockey camp?”