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)
Austin: STOP IT HE DOES NOT!
Austin: Does he? Oh God…
Gio: It’s fine. No one can take him seriously with that mohawk.
Austin: What he needs is a cute Baddies sweater. It’s getting cold out, he’s going to need one.
Gio: A Baddies sweater for your dog? You realize I’m the one on the ice, right? Not him.
Austin: He’s basically your mascot now.
Gio: Pretty sure the team’s ACTUAL mascot would have an issue with that.
Austin: That giant flame can fight him for the title. Gio would win.
Gio: With that attitude, he might.
Gio: Switching gears: how was work today?
Austin: The usual.
Austin: Oh! That’s a lie—your fan club was in my office today asking about you.
Gio: Fan club? Be more specific, I have like, 50 of them.
Austin: Cute.
Austin: I mean my students. Remember Fanboy Paul? He’s obsessed with finding out details about our relationship and sent Logan (the TA) in to fish around. Everrryyyyone has a big ol’ crush on you.
Gio: I respect the dedication.
Austin: He’s relentless. Logan tried to act casual, but I could tell he had a list of questions.
Gio: Like what?
Austin: Oh, you know, the usual. How long we’ve been dating, what your favorite food is, whether you’re single (again, YOU ARE NOT), and if you’ve ever fought a bear.
Gio: A bear?
Austin: Apparently, he thinks you’re some kind of Canadian action hero.
Gio: I mean, I do play hockey. Basically the same.
Austin: Sure, if skating really fast counts as “fighting a bear.”
Gio: I’d totally take a bear down if it meant impressing you.
Austin: You’ve already won me over. No need to get your face torn off to impress me.
Gio: Good to know. But if Paul asks again, I can invite him to a game.
Austin: You’d make his year. His face would melt off.
Gio: That’s the point.
Austin: How soon do you have to be in your uniform?
Gio: Little bit yet, I’m about to get tapped up by the trainer. My shoulder’s been bothering me so he’s gonna take a look at it.
Austin: Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?!
Gio: I’m not HURT. It’s just sore. The usual
Gio: You worried about me, babe?
Austin: I’m worried about the win.
Gio: Wow.
Gio: What would you do to make me feel better if I were hurt?
Austin: Oh, you know. Soup or something.
Gio: SOUP? That’s it?
Austin: What else were you hoping for?
Gio: Something more hands-on…if you catch my drift.
Austin: Hands-on, huh? Like helping you stretch?
Gio: Probably something lower.
Austin: Lower? You mean, like tying your skates?
Gio: Not what I had in mind.
Austin: Oh?
Gio: Let’s just say my idea involves a different kind of stroke.
Austin: You’re really going there?
Gio: My shoulder’s not the only thing that could use some attention.
Austin: What if we make a little wager?
Gio: Can we make it interesting?
Austin: You lose the game and you have to go down on me.
Gio: And if I win, you suck my dick?
Austin: Exactly.
Gio: I like those odds. Babe, you’ve officially made this the most important game of my life.
Austin: It’s DEFINITELY going to be the most important game of your life—I guarantee it.
29
gio
Life is good.
Damn good.
The sex is amazing. Austin and I have so much fun together.
She and my sister get along. The dog has stopped growling at me and has now started letting me pet him.
Work is great.
Finally—we’re fucking winning and it’s all thanks to my good luck charm.
I home in on the forward as he skates toward me, the puck bouncing back and forth between his stick as he skillfully maneuvers through my defensemen. His movements are sharp, fluid—too damn smooth. My muscles tighten, every nerve in my body screaming to react.
Focus.
That word beats in my head like a war drum. I shift my weight slightly, my stick angled down, blocking the tiniest opening. The crowd roars as the forward gets closer, cutting sharply left. My heart pounds in time with their chants.
He shoots.
Instinct kicks in.
My glove snaps up, catching the puck mid-air like it’s second nature. The play ends, and the horn blares, signaling the end of the period.
I skate out of the goal box, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through me. The crowd goes wild!
I glance over to the spot in the front row, where Austin and my sister will be sitting tonight, setting it in my sights.
Already distracted.
I love seeing Austin so damn much.
Can’t get enough of her…
When we’re done warming up I follow my teammates to the bench, skates cutting sharp lines into the ice. Coach is already shouting, clipboard in hand, giving orders about tightening up defense.
Yeah, yeah, yeah—I’ve heard it all before, not to get cocky.
I nod along but the truth is, I’m riding a high straight into the first period.
My reflexes are sharp.
My confidence is soaring.
We’re up by two, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone close that gap.
I sit on the bench alongside my teammates, pulling a water bottle and taking a long sip, letting the cool water wash away the heat building under my mask.