Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
He wasn’t sure what made him test out the possibility. Maybe he was genuinely curious. Or maybe he simply wanted an excuse to knock on Tallulah’s bedroom door later to tell her she’d been wrong. Whatever the reason, he jerked his chin at the pair and asked, “What do you think of the 1–2–2 forecheck we’ve been using?”
To Burgess’s utter astonishment, Corrigan and Mailer traded an excited glance and snapped to attention, all traces of humor vanished from their faces. “Honestly, we’ve been talking, and it’s too passive for the speed we’ve got now.”
“We’re wasting an extra defenseman when you’ve got the goal covered. We could be forcing more turnovers at the blue line with a 1–3–1.”
Burgess started to give the response he’d been planning before the two doofuses had even given their answer . . . but he never expected their point of view to have some actual merit. Enough to snap his mouth shut and make him consider what they said. “That’s not a terrible point. I’ll mention it to the coach.”
They looked like they’d just been given the opportunity to drink a beer from the Stanley Cup. “Nice. Thanks. Cool,” Mailer said, visibly with no idea what to do with his hands.
“Thanks, Sir Savage.”
He started to slap Burgess on the shoulder.
Burgess shut it down with a “Nope.”
But when the rookies disappeared back into the cardio area, their heads bent together in a whirlwind of whispers, Burgess couldn’t help but feel a little . . . humbled.
“Wow.” Sig sauntered closer. “That was off-brand. Are you feeling all right?”
No. The base of his spine was in a vise that grew tighter by the second. “When did we become friends?” Burgess asked, assuming Sig’s question had been rhetorical. “Like at what point did I stop treating you like a rookie asshole?”
Sig answered without hesitating. “My second year in the league. We were on the road in Pittsburgh and the game went to penalties.” Sig shook his head. “I was off that night. I missed my shot by a mile and I guess you were feeling generous because you told me to shake it off. And I told you to get fucked. We were cool after that.”
Burgess barked a rare laugh. “That sounds about right.”
“Doesn’t it?” His brow quirked. “Imagine my surprise a few minutes ago when you gave the Orgasm Donors the time of day.”
“Tallulah . . .” he started without thinking.
Sig clasped his hands beneath his chin and gasped. “Tallulah, what?”
Burgess sighed at the theatrics. “Nothing, she just said something that made me think.”
“I liked her. Two seconds after meeting her, she was breaking my balls. That’s a hockey player’s dream.” He raised an eyebrow. “How fast are you trying to lock her down?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it.”
“Says the guy who was out at two a.m. picking up his future stepsister.”
“That topic is off the table.” A muscle leapt in Sig’s jaw. “Go back to the nanny. Why is it complicated?”
“You want me to give you a list? One: she works for me, so I’m paying her, plus I’m essentially her landlord, too. There’s a whole issue with that power dynamic. Two: she’s not only younger than me by eleven years, but . . . she’s young on a whole different level. She’s still excited about life. To me, life is just something I’m being forced to get through.” At least, until Tallulah arrived in Boston. This morning, he’d woken up and wanted to get out of bed. Been eager to find out what the day would bring. “Three . . . She’s been through some shit that I’m not sensitive enough or equipped to . . . navigate.”
“Says who? Your ex-wife?” Sig snorted. “Fuck that.”
Burgess did a double take. “Wow. How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Few years, actually.”
He caught sight of his expression in the mirrored wall, unsurprised to find confusion written all over his face. Where was this coming from? “The divorce was amicable. We’re friendly.”
Sig grumbled something.
Burgess shoved him in the shoulder. “What was that? Speak up.”
“I said, it might have been amicable . . .” He crossed his arms, beginning to look pissed. “But you’re the one who walked away shouldering all of the blame.”
“I was always occupied with hockey. All the media attention. The split was my fault.”
“Nah, I don’t see it that way.”
“What?” Burgess was beginning to raise his voice. “You weren’t there.”
“I’ve been here to see the before and after version of you. I don’t think you two were meant to be, but the divorce itself pulled the rug out from under you.” Sig two-hand shoved Burgess in the chest. “Where’s your fucking confidence, man? Burgess before the divorce would have gone and pulled that hot nanny without breaking a sweat.”
“You sound like one of the Orgasm Donors.” Fire scaled his spine. “Call her hot again and I’ll put your head through the wall.”