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)
I have a feeling that he’d encourage me if he knew why I punched Hayes. Then he’d punch me himself for catching the feels for his sister.
As if he heard my thoughts, Mason leans in, his voice dropping. “You finally ready to admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“You know what,” he deadpans.
I don’t reply.
But Mason, being the persistent dick that he is, isn’t ready to drop it. “Come on, you can’t tell me this isn’t about Molly—”
“It’s not.” I sidestep him and head for the showers.
I need to fucking cool off.
A few minutes later, the hot water pounds down on my shoulders.
It helps loosen the tension from the game, but it doesn’t stop the voice that keeps screaming in my head that Mason is right.
This has everything to do with Molly.
Obviously.
By the time I’m ready to leave, I’m fucking exhausted and can’t wait to relax. I love flying home after a game. Nothing like sleeping in your own bed. I have no desire to party or celebrate, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not going to.
I’m done being the guy everyone expects me to be.
As I approach the plane, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen.
A message from Molly.
Molly: Thanks for kicking his ass for me.
I shake my head and laugh.
Hudson: He had it coming.
Three dots appear, and I wait for her reply.
Molly: But next time, try not to get benched over me. It’s not worth the risk. Dane is insufferable when he loses.
My lips spread into a smile.
Hudson: No promises.
As I pocket my phone, any remaining tension slips away.
Whatever this thing is between us, it might not be simple . . .
But I want to try.
48
Breaking News: Wild Brawl. Hudson Wilde Throws First Punch in Finals Showdown.
By: Taylor Davis
The tension between Redville Saints right wing Hudson Wilde and Colts defenseman Hayes Anderson reached a boiling point at game two of the eastern conference finals last night, leading to a brutal fight that had fans on their feet and referees scrambling to break it up.
The clash began early in the third period after a hard hit near the boards that left tempers flaring. Replays show Wilde throwing a killer punch, sending Hayes stumbling. Blood on the ice, furious shouts, and a deafening roar from the crowd set the scene for what may go down as one of the most talked-about fights of the season.
Wilde was given a five-minute penalty for fighting, with Hayes earning the same.
Despite his time in the box, Wilde returned to the ice with a vengeance, assisting on a critical third-period goal that secured the Saints win.
Wilde’s response was characteristically vague when asked about the fight postgame: “Sometimes, you’ve got to stand your ground.”
Fan Comments:
@Saints4Life: Hudson Wilde is a LEGEND. Did you SEE that punch? Hayes had no idea what hit him.
@HockeyChick99: I swear Hudson looked like he wanted to murder Hayes. Never seen him so furious. Blood on the ice, man. 10/10 entertainment.
@ColtsForever: Hudson Wilde threw the first punch, as usual. Typical thug move. Should’ve been ejected.
@RedHotFan: Not condoning fighting, but . . . did y’all notice how wild Hudson looked? Like, eyes blazing, pure rage. 👀
@HockeyDad47: I don’t let my kids watch fights, but even I was on my feet for that one. Wilde doesn’t play around.
@SpilledTeaSports: Rumor has it there’s beef between Hayes and Hudson off the ice. What’s the story, boys? 👀
@RedvilleRiot: “Sometimes you’ve got to stand your ground.” Translation: don’t mess with Hudson Wilde.
49
Hudson
It’s been days since the fight, and I’m losing my fucking mind.
I’ve been trying to keep it cool. No fights.
Apparently, the media relations team doesn’t want my face plastered everywhere.
Don’t cause trouble.
Easier said than done.
It hasn’t been easy to ignore Hayes. Every game he’s in my face. It’s a pain in the ass, but I have no choice.
My life is boring as hell. I practice, play and stay home.
My walls are closing in. The TV, my phone, even my fridge—it all feels like it’s mocking me.
And knowing Hayes is still walking around without a permanent scratch on his smug face? It makes my blood boil all over again.
But then, there’s Molly.
She’s been slipping over late at night when no one’s watching. We’ve been sneaking around for a while now, and somehow, it’s the only thing keeping me sane.
Tonight, she shows up with a bag of takeout and a glare that could make a lesser man crumple.
“You’re a moron, you know that?” she says, dropping the bag on my counter.
I smirk, leaning against the doorway. “Nice to see you, too, Hex.”
She rolls her eyes, shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it over a chair. She’s wearing one of those fitted sweaters that clings in all the right places, and I have to bite back a comment that’ll only piss her off.