Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Not a fucking clue,” I say laughing, looking at her.
“It’s about a thirty-minute walk from here,” she tells me. “If you don’t mind, we can walk it.”
“Yeah, that’s good. It will give me the lay of the land,” I say, then look at her. It stays quiet for a couple of minutes. “So you don’t date hockey players?”
She laughs nervously. “Are you asking me out?” She pushes my arm with her shoulder. Because she is wearing heels, she comes a little past my shoulder.
I shake my head. “No, definitely not.”
“Good. That’s a relief,” she says. “It would have been awkward as hell.” I laugh now at her bluntness. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t.”
“Too much for you?” I don’t even know why I care.
“They are just not the type I usually go for,” she says honestly. “It’s just like for a guy. If he likes big boobs, he isn’t going to go out with someone who has small boobs.”
“I don’t think that’s the same thing at all,” I tell her as we leisurely walk down the street at a snail’s pace.
She rolls her eyes. “I was trying to think like a man. It was the only thing that came to mind.”
“Guys don’t just go for boobs, you know,” I tell her. “I mean, I like a girl who can have a conversation with me.” I shake my head now. “Wow, I didn’t even know that was what I liked.”
“I take it that you don’t date girls often.” She looks sideways at me and puts her hair behind her ear.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really dated,” I answer honestly. I don’t tell her that the reason was because I was chasing the high, and the girls that went with the high were just interested in getting my dick and the high. “So you date guys in business?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Not necessarily but I have a strict rule about hockey players,” she tells me. “As much as I love to irritate my brother by joking about it, I just stick to non-hockey players.”
“Ah, this makes sense now, and I get it.” I stop walking, and she stops with me, turning to look me. “You got burned by one of them?” I ask her.
“Have you met my brother?” She looks at me, raising her eyebrows, then turns to walk again, and I follow her. “He would not be okay with that.”
“But your sisters are married to hockey players,” I point out.
“And my father is Cooper Stone,” she says. I stop walking because I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together. “You knew that, right?”
“I mean …” I start saying. “I knew it, but it just didn’t really connect until, well, now.” She laughs, and then we start walking again but this time a bit slower. “Jesus, Cooper Stone.” The greatest hockey player to ever play.
“Well, I get to call him Dad,” she says. “But yeah, Cooper Stone. See why I don’t date hockey players?”
“I can see it,” I finally say. “Well, the good news is I’m not in the market for a girlfriend.”
“What’s your story, Viktor?” I’m not even sure where to begin with that question. “You don’t have to answer the question.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to answer it,” I tell her.
“You just aren’t ready,” she says, nodding. “I get it. This is a big step, right? Getting traded and then meeting your new team.”
“You really don’t know any of my story?” I ask her, somewhat shocked.
“I really don’t know anything except Matthew was super pumped when he signed you, and that you are looking for an apartment,” she answers me, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she will learn about my past from me and not through hearsay. She could go online, and all the details are there for her to read, but I want to be the one to tell her. I mean, I don’t care how she feels or if she accepts it. I’m the one who has to accept it.
“I was in rehab when I got traded. I’m a recovering cocaine addict,” I say, and I know she will find that part if she looks it up, but at least I got to tell her. I inhale deeply and then tell her, “Last game of the season, I went on the ice high as a kite.” I don’t look at her; instead, I just walk ahead. “I mean, I’ve been on the ice high before, but this time, it was just so obvious.” I look over at her, but she doesn’t say anything. “I chased the puck in a circle four times before falling into my goalie.” I laugh bitterly, rubbing my face and trying to erase that memory. “To top it all off, my parents were in the stands watching, and well, when I got pulled off the ice and benched, I couldn’t care less. When I got into the car that night, I expected my parents to ream my ass, especially my dad, but he said nothing, and then the next day when I got up, the GM to the team was there, and it was basically go to rehab or lose my contract. So”—I shrug—“I went to rehab.”