Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I squint, doing my best to read his lips and piece together his tone, though the indignation is practically radiating off him.
“She took it!” I shout back, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. “What was I supposed to do, fight her for it?”
Nova leans into the exchange and adds her two cents. “I’m scrappy! She wouldn’t have stood a chance!”
He huffs, his lips twitching upward like he’s trying not to laugh. Then, with exaggerated deliberation, he tips his helmet slightly forward before skating backward with an effortless grace that belies his size, stick tapping once more as he heads toward the goalie box.
God damn he’s sexy…
“You’re drooling,” his sister teases.
I snap out of it, hand reflexively brushing the corner of my mouth—just to check, of course. “Am not.”
“Don’t bother denying it.” Nova plops down into her seat. “I enjoy being the matchmaker for once.”
“For once?” I echo, raising a brow as I fold my arms and settle in beside her, gaze affixed to the ice. “Are you saying you usually scare people away?”
She gasps, clutching her chest in mock horror like I’ve just insulted her honor.
“Excuse you, I’m a fantastic wing woman. But,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering into me. “It’s rare that I get to sit back and watch the sparks fly all on their own. Gio has never actually chased a woman I told him about—he usually ignores my suggestions. You’re a first.”
Out on the ice? Her brother is impossible to ignore, all focus and precision as he fields practice shots from his teammates.
“Face-off in two minutes, three seconds,” Nova singsongs, glancing at the scoreboard. “Plenty of time for him to score a date.”
I shoot her a sidelong look. “Are you ever not meddling?”
“No. I’m his twin, his business is my business.”
My head shakes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She freezes for a second, then waves her hands frantically, like she’s trying to retract the words. “Wait, that’s not what I meant! I mean… his past girlfriends were awful. Total puck bunnies. You know the type—only interested in him for his money or the NHL connections. I didn’t mean I’m an impossible pain in the ass to deal with, I swear!”
I arch a brow, folding my arms as I lean back in my chair. “Sounds a little like you’re playing hockey mom.”
She groans, running a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated with herself. “God, no. I swear, I’m not that bad. I just... okay, maybe I’m a little overprotective, but only because I care, you know?”
I soften, the edge in my tone giving way to understanding. “I get it. You just want the best for him.”
“Exactly!” she exclaims, slapping her knees in mock victory, her expression lighting up. “The night I bumped into you at Five Alarm, you were so animated and fun, the first thing I thought to myself was: Gio has to meet this woman.”
I smile at that, warmth creeping into my chest despite myself. She flatters me and I’m falling for it.
“And here I am.”
She grins, leaning back in her seat like she’s basking in her own matchmaking success. “And here we are.”
The weight of her words hangs between us for a moment, comfortable and light, and I can’t help but laugh softly even though she probably cannot hear it over the noise.
“You really don’t take a day off, do you?”
“Never,” she says proudly, chin tilting definitely, the beret on top her head tipping with the motion. “Besides. It’s working out pretty well so far, wouldn’t you say?”
Wow. She is so much like her brother.
“Ask me again in a week,” I tease, though I can feel my cheeks heat up.
“Oh, I will.” Nova nudges me with her elbow, pulling my attention back to her. “Okay, so important question: are you a vocal fan, or do you do the polite golf clap thing?”
“You already know the answer to that.” I roll my eyes. “You saw me in action, remember?”
Her response is a burst of laughter as the puck drops in the center of the ice and play begins.
The puck zips from stick to stick, the action quick and relentless. The tension in the air is palpable, every play met with gasps or cheers. Then, Gio intercepts a pass with a sharp flick of his stick, sending the puck flying toward a teammate. The crowd erupts as the play progresses, and Nova jumps to her feet, her voice cutting through the noise.
“Nice save, Gio!” she screams, jumping up from her seat.
The last thing I want is the television cameras finding me and putting me on the ne—
Nova elbows me sharply, cutting off my internal monologue. “Do it.”
I blink, confused. “Do what?”
“Say something mean!” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s part of the deal, remember?”
I stare at her like she’s lost her mind. “I am not going to say mean things to him in front of his sister! We just talked about how you don’t want anyone dating him who’s an asshole!”