Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
My mouth drops open. “How did I not know this?”
“Don’t know, dude. You couldn’t hear the screaming when she chewed his ass out and called him the biggest fucking douchebag she’d ever met?”
Shit.
“It sounds horrible.”
“It was. He was acting like such a tool even I wanted to slap him.”
“She slapped him?” My eyes bug out.
“No. But I would have supported an open-palm bitch slap.” Sully laughs.
We waffle a few more minutes, conversation coming to a halt as both of us ponder whatever was in our brains.
I lift my hands and stare at the hundreds of wrinkles marring my skin.
"Well, as much as I hate to say it, I think it's time to call it a night," I announce as I begin to rise, hands pushing me upward so I can stand.
My roommate nods in agreement with a hint of reluctance in his expression. "Yeah, you're probably right. We've been sitting here long enough."
With a collective effort, we heave ourselves up from the bubbling water, the heat of the hot tub clinging to our skin as we make our way to the edge. I reach for the towel I’d draped over the nearby railing, wrapping it around my waist to ward off the chill.
The cooler air of the locker room immediately chills my skin, sending goose bumps forming.
I step into my shower shoes so I don’t slip and fall ass backward and crack my skull open, god forbid my worst nightmare.
Actually, I have a lot of worst nightmares, but that’s just one of them.
"I could literally sit in there forever," Sully remarks, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “We should get a hot tub at the house. We can put it in the yard, between Lizzy’s house and ours.”
I laugh softly, running a hand through my damp hair. "I think we’d get in a shit ton of trouble if we did that. Plus, who’s paying for this hot tub?”
Sully rolls his eyes. “Okay, Grandpa, way to kill the daydream.”
With one last glance back at the now-empty hot tub, Sully turns to me. "Same time next week?"
“No fucking way.”
“What?!” He laughs. “I thought we were bonding!”
“One night of bonding was plenty, thanks.”
“Oh, come on.” He follows me to the lockers, taking his towel off. Twists it. Then snaps it toward my ass.
“Knock it off,” I grumble.
“Hot tub party.”
“No.”
But I laugh just the same.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LIZZY
“You know what we should do?” Bethany appears in my doorway, braiding her long hair.
“No, I don’t know what we should do.”
She grins. “The guys have a game against Bishop.”
“What guys?”
I’m in the middle of filling out my agenda, one of my favorite downtime activities. Gel pens, stickers, sticky tabs, washi tape, and paper clips are scattered around me as I sit cross-legged on my bed.
I don’t actually look at the agenda once I write in it, but the creative process soothes me. I can clear my head and listen to a podcast while I work.
“Uh. What guys, she says,” Bethany grumbles as she steps inside my room, slinging her braid to her back now that she’s done braiding it. “The guys next door. Brodie, Charlie, Sully…whatever the other guys' names are. Them. They have a game.”
I tilt my head to the side. “When?”
“Uh, now.”
“Why are you saying it like I should know this information?”
“Because. How do you not know this?” She throws her hands up. “You are literally talking to one of the guys on the team. You—of all of us—should know this.”
“I’m not sportsy.” I don’t follow that stuff.
Any of it.
“Sportsy?” she titters. “Do you mean athletic? Not a fan? Don’t do it for me. Do it for the eye candy.”
“Eye candy?”
“It’ll be a buffet of hotness on ice.”
She’s been reading too many novels, but I can’t help but share her enthusiasm, already setting my things aside so I can climb off my bed and get ready.
I must have a clean State hoodie somewhere in my closet.
“Well, who am I to turn down such a delicious feast for the eyes?” I’ve said it a million times; Brodie is delicious.
With a shared giggle, we head out once we’re ready for the game.
“Count me in.”
“Sweet!” Bethany lets out a whoop of excitement, pumping her fist in the air. "That-a-girl, that’s what I like to hear. Grab your coat, we're heading out in ten.”
I scramble to my feet, excitement coursing through me like a jolt of electricity.
I’ve never gone to a game to watch a guy play. Shit, I haven’t known any actual athletes; the male athletes in my classes do not count because I do not speak to them. Never have a reason to.
So I have butterflies in my stomach as we make our way to the rink, walking to save ourselves time. If we took a rideshare, it would take forever since traffic gets so congested any time there is a game, even if it is a scrimmage.