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)
But I felt Maven where she stood in the tunnel like a current of electricity buzzing through my veins.
The last week with her had tilted my world on its axis. And where she’d been like a thorn in my side that first game in Boston, she’d been more like a soothing balm today, quietly observing me while I got ready to play.
We’d spent my entire day off together on Sunday, and then she’d followed me all yesterday, too, during practice and film and everything in-between. The frost she’d iced me out with in the beginning was thawing now, and she talked to me, laughed with me, and let me peel back a little layer to see more of who the girl was beneath it.
She was a walking contradiction, Maven King — simultaneously a fascinating, generous, free-spirited hippy, and also a closed-off, teeth-bared in warning brat. It was so far from what I was used to when it came to women, I couldn’t help but be enamored by it, by her.
And whether I chose it or not, she was now a part of my routine.
The corner of my mouth twitched up when I recalled her standing in my doorway when it was time to head to the stadium earlier. She’d leaned a hip against the frame, the white pencil skirt she wore hugging her slight curves, and the midnight blue top she wore with it cinching her slim waist. Her hair framed her face in a curly halo, and her glossy lips had spread into a smile as she watched me grab my bag and head for the door.
She didn’t move once I reached it.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you pass,” she’d said, tilting her head a bit. “Not until we fight.”
It was a tease, a reference to the game before, and I’d folded my arms over my chest and sized her up. “What do you want to fight about?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
“Hm…” I’d said, tapping my chin in thought. “I need to figure out a way to piss you off.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
I’d smirked at that, and then, I’d dropped my bag to the floor and dug my fingertips into her sides, tickling her mercilessly.
I smiled wider remembering the squealing peals of laughter that she’d let loose, how she had tears coming out of her eyes as she tried to break free from me. In her attempt, her body had been completely pressed into mine, and I’d felt the weight of her slight frame in my arms, had inhaled her scent — lemon and vanilla, like a refreshing dessert I was more than curious to taste.
She was breathless by the time I’d finally relented, and as soon as she had her breath back, she’d socked me right in the gut.
I’d doubled over with an oof, but had laughed all the same.
“You’re such a prick,” she’d yelled. “I couldn’t breathe!”
“Is it time to kiss and make up now?”
She’d sucked her teeth at that, turning on her heels that matched her blouse before strutting down the hall like a model.
And I’d spent the last few hours trying to stay focused on the game, and not on how it had felt to have my hands on her.
I blinked back to the present just in time to hop the boards and skate out onto the ice with my line. We played hard, not letting up even when the score told us we could. We wanted this team and the rest in our conference to hear our message loud and clear.
Tampa is the team to beat, and we won’t make it easy to do so.
Sweat dripped into my eyes as the last buzzer sounded, and the crowd cheered so loud the stadium shook with the sound of it. Then, a flurry of stuffed animal fishes of all kinds rained down on us.
We had to watch where we were skating to dodge the toys as we took our victory laps, but none of us minded. It was tradition, one that had been around for decades. The fish were a sacrifice to the Osprey, our mascot. When the tradition started, they had thrown actual fish. Of course, that had been a smelly, disgusting, and rather inhumane practice that quickly turned into what it was now. A rainbow of color filled the ice just like a hat trick did, and at the end of it all, every toy would be donated to local shelters and families in need.
We took our time on our victory lap, and not a single fan moved from their seats as we went back into the locker room. Minutes later, the three stars of the team were announced.
I was one of them.
I skated a lap with the lights flashing and the crowd chanting my name, and I searched for a kid to give my puck to. When I spotted a familiar face by the glass at center ice, I grinned.