Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Let’s skate, Pigeon.”
I smirked at the nickname, another for rookie that the veterans loved to pin me with. Then, I was up and following him out of the locker room and onto the ice.
The energy was loud and boisterous as teammate after teammate joined us, the music thumping and chirps sounding off in every direction. A morning skate was just a way to get the nerves out, to warm up and prepare for the game later in the evening. It always felt like settling in for me, that first glide across the ice, first tap of my stick against the puck, first shot on the open goal. My muscles revved to life like a race car engine, firing up for the challenge ahead, while my mind floated up into a focused kind of fog only game day could bring.
After a while of just skating around and shooting pucks into an open net, our goaltender finished his stretches and took his place in front of the goal.
Will Perry — or Daddy P as we called him — was an absolute weapon, and he was the sole reason I had celebrated when I found out Tampa was going to be my team. Our lines needed work, and our defense could be stronger, but Daddy P was steady and strong, easily one of the best in the league, if not the best. He was as fierce a goalie as he was a father to his daughter. Shockingly, his wife had passed away unexpectedly before the kid was even a year old.
I’d never lived through something like that, but I could tell it had carved Will Perry into an unbreakable stone wall — which was exactly what we needed in a goaltender.
There was a challenge in his eyes as he snapped his mask into place, as if to say give it your best shot, fuckers.
He barely crouched into position before we all did just that.
Puck after puck flew toward the net, with no less than ten seconds in-between but usually no more than that, either. It was a race to see who could score on him first, or if any of us could do it at all.
I’d won this little game the last four morning skates in a row, and I had no intention of relinquishing my title today.
I missed the first two attempts, but the rest of the team didn’t fare any better. And on my third shot, the puck flew high and fast into the top right corner of the net.
“Hello!” I screamed, gloved hands flying into the air along with my stick as I celebrated the win to the tune of a dozen groaning teammates. “Top cheese, baby!”
“Lucky shot, Pigeon,” Will grumbled, peeling off his mask.
“Aww, did your lovely lady locks block your view, Daddy P?”
He ran a hand back through his long hair before shaking the sweat off. “Jealous of the flow?”
“That flow didn’t help you block the cheese. Maybe you should call your mom after practice, have her teach you couponing so you learn how to save.”
Laughs rumbled around the rink, and even Will smirked.
“Someone needs to humble your ass, Tanny Boy,” Jaxson said, skating up to me before sliding to a halt and sending ice up over my shins.
“And is that someone supposed to be you, Brittzy?”
“Please,” Carter Fabri said, skating a circle around us before he lazily shoveled a puck down the ice. “Brittzy couldn’t humble anyone with those bendy ankles.”
“Nize it, Fabio. My left nut dangles better than you,” Jaxson fired back, and then he was chasing Carter down the ice, catching up to him easily and stealing the puck away with ease.
Carter was a rookie, too, but I was worried about him being sent back down to the AHL before the season ended. He was good, but he wasn’t great, and as much as I loved partying with him, he wasn’t the center we needed to bring the Cup home. Still, I hoped he’d at least stick around until the team threw our rookie party, because the sonofabitch was goofy as hell and always made for an epic night out.
I felt focused and ready by the time morning skate came to a close, players making their way off the ice one by one to head home. We didn’t have to report back until five. Getting ready for a game was a little different for all of us, but it almost always included a nap, and I was looking forward to mine as I skated toward the locker room.
I was almost to the boards when I noticed our dentist, Livia Young, talking to Coach at the mouth of the tunnel.
The sight of her conjured up one of her friend from last night, and something between annoyance and intrigue sparked in my chest.
I didn’t even know the girl’s name, but I knew one thing for sure — she was a judgmental, snobby princess. She’d had her nose so high in the air last night I was surprised she didn’t bruise it on the ceiling.