Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Getting into my position right in front of the goalie, I block his view as the puck is passed from James to Jay to Benny, who whips it to the goalie who saves it, but I pick up the rebound once it bounces off his right leg and tip it over his left side where he isn’t expecting it.
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” the coach shouts, pointing his hockey stick at the net. “Good job, boys.” He blows his whistle. “See you all tomorrow. Don’t forget we head out for Chicago right after the game, and then we have a couple of days off. Try to rest up. Playoffs are coming, and we need all the points we can get.” He blows the whistle twice, meaning practice is officially over.
Skating off the ice, I take off my right glove, tucking it under my left arm before unsnapping my helmet. “Well done, Stoney,” Jay declares, picking up a green bottle and squirting water in his mouth as he waits for everyone else to get off the ice.
“I was not going to lose a thousand bucks.” I stand on the other side of him, grabbing my own bottle and squeezing water into my mouth as I wait for the rush of people trying to get off the ice.
Once everyone but Jay and I have left the ice, we make our way down the red carpet toward the locker room. I place my stick along the outside of the wall with all the other sticks before walking in. Putting my gloves on top of the shelf with my name on it, I then add the helmet to it before taking off my jersey and tossing it in the bin in the middle of the room. I sit down and untie my skates. Sweat drips off my forehead as I finish getting undressed and head to the shower.
I shower in record time. The only thing on my mind is sliding into my bed and sleeping until tomorrow morning. The past two days, I think I’ve gotten maybe ten hours of sleep. We stayed up until I think seven o’clock the morning after the wedding. But I don’t think I would have had it any other way. The wedding officially ended at four, but then all the cousins just went to one house, and we chilled. Laughing as we replayed parts of the wedding that were funny, we ordered six hundred dollars’ worth of breakfast sandwiches and then rushed to catch the plane leaving at ten. I slept the whole five-hour flight back home, only waking when the wheels touched down. I was thankful my father had the good mind to book me a private flight back home.
Pulling up to my house, I swear I almost groan when I press the button and pull into one of the three garage doors. I park it right next to the black BMW.
I get out, pressing the button to close the door before walking to the side of the garage and entering my house through the bright-white mudroom. I kick off my running shoes before walking through the side door that leads to the kitchen.
I get one of my prepared meals out of the massive two-door stainless-steel fridge, then walk over to the oven and press the buttons to turn it on. Once it beeps, I get a tray to put it on. When I get home from practice, I usually hit my gym, but since my whole body feels broken, I’m skipping today. It’ll probably be worse tomorrow, but I’ll listen to my body for now. I walk past the big island in the middle of the room that leads to the family room. I go to grab the remote control to turn on the television hanging over the fireplace. When I moved in here, the house had no televisions, but I quickly rectified that. I had my cousins come over, and now every room in this house has a television.
The oven beeps at the same time as my phone makes a weird ringing sound. Pulling it out of my pocket as I walk back to the kitchen, I look down and see Ryleigh is calling me on Instagram. The smile fills my face as soon as I see her name, and then my cock stirs in my shorts.
I answer the call right away, putting her on speaker. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Did you send me chocolate?” she barks out, and I chuckle.
Opening the oven door, I put the tray in it before starting the timer for twenty minutes. “No.” I laugh. “I sent you an array of chocolates. I didn’t know what type of chocolate you liked, so I sent you milk chocolate, which is my favorite. I also sent you white chocolate and dark chocolate.”
“Why?” she groans. “Why would you do that?”