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)
Dane: Rookie move, Wilde. Getting stampeded by a bunch of teenagers? Come on.
Hudson: I don’t want to talk about it.
Mason: Nah, we’re absolutely talking about it.
Dane: You’re lucky I didn’t see it in real time. I’d still be laughing.
Hudson: You guys are the worst.
Mason: What did you expect, man? You were late. AGAIN. You basically asked for it.
Hudson: I WASN’T LATE.
Dane: My guy, you missed warm-ups. You’re always late. It’s basically your only personality trait at this point.
Mason: Wilde Time™. It’s a thing.
Hudson: IT WASN’T MY FAULT.
Mason: It never is. 😂
Aiden: Yet it always happens.
Mason: He got tackled by teenagers. Literal children. That’s what he gets.
Aiden: He’s a public safety hazard.
Hudson: I hate all of you.
Mason: Did they at least chant your name?
Dane: Doubt it.
Aiden: Probably why he’s still breathing. He’d enjoy that too much.
Hudson: Can someone remind me why I hang out with you guys?
Dane: Because we keep you humble. And alive.
Mason: Barely alive after today. 😂
Hudson: I’m muting this chat.
Aiden: Admit it, you love us.
Hudson: I’m blocking all of you.
Dane: Sure, you are. Just don’t be late again, or we’re putting you in a helmet cam next time.
Mason: Omg. A Hudson Wilde highlight reel of shame. I’ll edit it.
Aiden: 10/10 content.
Hudson: I actually hate you.
14
Hudson
I find her near the team’s lounge, scrolling through her phone like nothing happened. Like she didn’t just unleash the kind of chaos usually reserved for a Black Friday sale.
“Molly,” I call out, my voice sharp enough to make her flinch.
She glances up, the picture of pure innocence. “Oh, hey, Hudson. You good?”
“Am I good?” My voice rises. “You unleashed a freaking stampede on me.”
Her eyebrows furrow, and she tilts her head like she has no idea what I’m talking about. “I have no clue what’s got you so hot and bothered.”
“Don’t play dumb, Hex,” I snap. “I saw the security footage.”
Her mouth falls open, her brows shooting up. “You looked at the security footage?”
“Yeah, I did,” I retort, stepping closer. “Why wouldn’t I when someone decided to yell my name in a crowd full of teenagers and send them charging after me like I’m Justin freakin’ Bieber?”
“That’s unhinged.” She crosses her arms at her chest. “Who even does that?”
“Someone who just got trampled by a mob, that’s who.” I throw my hands in the air. “What is wrong with you?”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “It was just a bunch of teenagers. You’re being a little dramatic for someone who gets bodychecked for a living.”
Before I can respond, Dane appears from around the corner, his face twisted into a scowl. “What did you say, sis?” He lifts a brow. “You think I let anyone body check Hudson? I’m the best enforcer this team’s ever had.”
Molly scrunches her nose. “What a fragile male ego. I’m disappointed in you, brother. Relax.”
“Relax?” he repeats, stepping closer. “Do you know how hard I work to keep this team safe?”
“Oh, we all know,” Mason chimes in from the couch, grinning as he leans back with a soda. “Big, scary Dane, always protecting his precious forwards.”
“Shut up, Mason,” Dane snaps, his glare cutting through the room.
Mason shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, maybe if you’d been there earlier, you could’ve saved Hudson’s ass from the teenage stampede.”
The room erupts in laughter, and even I can’t help but chuckle despite my frustration.
“Why am I always the one getting roasted?” I shake my head.
“Because you make it too easy,” Aiden calls from across the room.
Where the hell did he come from?
Jeez. Is this Fuck with Hudson Day?
When the laughter dies down, I turn back to Molly, my tone softer, but it’s still obvious that I’m disappointed. “Look, I get that you hate me. That’s fine. But you didn’t have to do this.”
“I don’t hate you,” she says way too quickly, her expression shifting. “I just—”
“You don’t?” I interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Because it sure feels like it. Every time we make even the slightest bit of progress, you do something to ruin it.”
Her mouth opens, but no words come out.
She looks like a fish out of water struggling to breathe.
“I wish we could’ve been on better footing.” I drop my voice, admitting something I don’t want to admit. “But you’re so determined to keep things the way they’ve always been. You won’t even give us a chance to be something . . . better.”
Her eyes soften.
I think she might say something real. Something honest.
But instead, she crosses her arms again and looks away. “You’re overreacting. It was just a few teenage fans. You’re fine.”
The disappointment in my chest deepens, but I force a tight smile. “Yeah, sure. Just a few teenage fans.”
With that, I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there.
Let her think she won this one. I have bigger things to focus on.
15
Hudson
The Saints locker room continues to buzz from our win. The energy is electric, the kind of high you can’t fake. There’s nothing like coming off a big game, knowing you left it all on the ice. My legs ache, and my hands are sore, but I’m grinning like an idiot.