Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Wolfe’s face turned red, and he opened his mouth to explain, but Coach wasn’t done.
He jabbed a finger toward the ice. “That puck was so big, I thought it might be a goddamn meteor! How do you miss that?”
Mason, barely holding back a laugh, tried to chime in. “Coach, it was just—”
“Don’t start with me, Mason,” Coach snapped, pointing a finger at him. “If I hear one more word about ‘it was just,’ I’ll have the whole team out here doing suicides until Christmas!”
That shut Mason up fast. Wolfe, meanwhile, tried to disappear into his gear. But Coach wasn’t done.
“Wolfe, you’re on the bench for the rest of the game. And after the game, we’re staying late. Because clearly, you need a crash course in seeing the puck! Should we bring in an optometrist? Maybe invest in a telescope?”
Wolfe just nodded, his face redder than the goal light. He spent the rest of the game stapled to the bench.
The next day, Coach made us all come in on our day off to run drills while he shouted things like, “You see that puck? Don’t blink, don’t sneeze, and definitely don’t pull a Wolfe!”
I grimace at the memory, my pace quickening. Wolfe has been in the doghouse ever since, and I’m not about to join him.
Last year, despite a literal tornado, I made it to the game with time to spare, and Coach never found out just how late I was. But today, with no excuses or disasters, I’m screwed.
I grab my phone and call Aiden.
Voicemail.
Next, Mason.
Same. They’re probably in a meeting, and Coach would kill them if they answered.
Fine. Group chat it is.
Hudson: Someone help me.
Dane: What trouble did you get into this time?
Mason: This is getting ridiculous. You realize this happens every year, right?
I want to say yes, that it’s all Molly’s fault, but something tells me that won’t go over well with Dane.
While I consider him a friend, he barely tolerates me. The man is so grumpy, he makes a Monday morning meeting feel like a vacation.
Hudson: Yes, I’m aware this is becoming an unfortunate habit.
Hudson: Has Coach noticed I’m missing yet?
Mason: What do you think?
Hudson: Fuck.
Mason: Fuck is right. Where are you?
Hudson: Honestly, I have no clue.
Mason: The fuck?
Hudson: Somewhere between the players’ entrance and hell.
Aiden: None of this is helpful.
Hudson: I left my key card, have no way in, and need help.
Mason: . . .
Hudson: You’re not helping.
Dane: Maybe if you gave us an actual location, we could help.
Hudson: Glad to see the grump has entered the chat.
Dane has left the conversation.
Hudson: Oops.
Aiden: Why do you do this, man?
Hudson: Because it’s too easy.
Hudson: So . . . is someone going to help me?
Aiden: No.
Aiden has left the conversation.
Hudson: Mason?
Mason: You’re on your own.
Mason has left the conversation.
I type out a sad-face emoji but realize there’s no one left to send it to.
Ouch.
Fine. I’ll just head to the front of the arena. Someone will see me. Shit, I can’t have that. Pulling my hoodie up, I hope the glasses-and-hoodie disguise works.
With my luck?
I doubt it.
12
Molly
Okay, maybe I’m an asshole, but I really couldn’t wait for him. He was fully on the other side of the parking lot. If I had stopped, I’d have been late, and Dane needed his tape.
I mean, granted, he probably could have borrowed tape from someone else, but whatever, Hudson doesn’t need to know that . . .
And the truth is, he deserves it.
He’s a menace. A cheater.
And the worst part is a piece of me bigger than I want to admit, secretly likes Hudson Wilde. There I said it, sue me. Maybe I don’t like him; perhaps I’m just jealous. I’m envious of the fact that he can be so unburdened by his past that he can have fun.
I wish I could be like that, and I find that every time I see him smile, I want to cry. Because deep down inside, I’m constantly pretending.
I pretend to be happy and put together when I’m a mess.
“Molly.” My brother’s voice is sharp and commanding.
I turn, finding Dane striding over to me with his usual no-nonsense expression. His brow is furrowed like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“I need a favor.” He stops in front of me.
My eyebrows rise. “Depends on what it is.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Dear brother, I’ll be fine. This is my job.”
Dane sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Now I’m intrigued.” I lean against the wall. “I’m not fired again, am I?”
He fixes me with a serious look. “I need you to go find Hudson and let him in. Apparently, he got himself locked out.”
Shit.
My stomach twists, but I force myself to stay calm. If Dane found out this was my fault . . . well, let’s just say it wouldn’t end well.