Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He wins the faceoff right away, knocking it to Phil, who tries to skate around the forward in front of him, but he loses the puck with a poke check. The young Toronto center man jumps over Matthew’s stick to intercept the pass, but Max is one step ahead of him, blocking him from even skating forward. Rookie doesn’t see Max and literally bounces off him. The whistle blows and the fans are on their feet while Matthew starts arguing with the ref when he wants to call Max for a penalty, but he doesn’t do anything because the linesman comes in and explains what happened.
The change shifts and Dan puts on two other people but keeps Max on there. I see Max talk to the rookies that he is playing with. He says something and they all agree and then the next second he loses the face-off, but then Deegan blocks it at the defense line, passing it straight to Max’s blade. It lands with a tock you hear echoed through the building. He looks like he’s running on the ice, but he’s just that fast. He ducks away from the defenseman, going right when he thought he would go left and then just slaps it in from the blue line. Perfectly aligned to land over the goalie’s shoulder and bouncing in the net. The fans get on their feet. Max points at the two rookies while they skate to him and celebrate. They all skate to the bench, high-fiving everyone while we stand on our feet and cheer. The rest of the game is the same. Nothing could stop us and we end up winning five to zero, giving Luka his first shout-out.
When the game finishes, Doug helps Karrie carry the kids to the car with promises to meet for lunch as soon as I’m back. I go downstairs, grabbing my two bags, and lugging them to the bus. I’m waiting for the guys to start loading the bus as I update Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I look through the photos taken tonight, finding a couple of Max and posting this with his hashtag #MadMax13.
It takes them about an hour to get in the bus. I sit here in the front with my computer on my lap, putting all the pictures on a USB for a later date. I check my watch and see that it is almost eleven-thirty by the time the coach and Max get into the bus. His hair is still wet, but perfectly groomed. The smell of his aftershave lingers to me. He sits across from me next to the coach, puts his earphones in, and watches something on his phone. I close my computer, storing everything for when we arrive at the airport some fifteen minutes later. I get up as soon as the bus stops, or at least I think the bus is stopping only to jerk forward one more time as I stand in the aisle. I’m ready to go crashing through the window, but two hands hold on to my hips, stopping me from moving. I look down to see his fingers while my heart hammers in my chest.
“Maybe you should wait till the door is open before you get up,” he says and I just nod, grabbing my bag, and walking off the bus on shaky fucking legs, but the feel of his fingertips are still lingering on me.
Grabbing my bag, I walk to the plane and sit in the first row. I put my bag next to me and fasten my seat belt. The whole team gets on and we are off the ground in fifteen minutes. My eyes burn by the time we get to the hotel lobby and are greeted by the manager on site. Everyone gets their rooms and I wait for everyone to go upstairs before I pick up my bag, signing everything at the front desk, and going to the elevator. The elevator pings and I get ready to go in, but I stop when I see Max coming outside.
“Sorry.” He walks past me and I watch him head out of the hotel.
I stand here wondering where the hell he is going when the doors almost squash me as I get into the elevator, press the button for my floor, and then an arm is pushed inside, stopping the doors from closing. Max steps back inside, a brown paper bag in his hand now.
I press six and he doesn’t press anything. Great. “Good game tonight.” I try to make conversation while he stares ahead. “Or not,” I say to myself.
The elevator door opens and I walk out, looking at the signs as he walks around me, heading down the right side. I pray to God I don’t have to follow him, but God isn’t listening tonight because I follow him, stopping in front of my door. I take the card out and tap it in front of the door. It turns the light green, but I don’t make it inside before Max’s door shuts, echoing in the hall.