Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
When I sink to the bench to unlace my skates, he settles beside me. “Does it have anything to do with the hot blonde you’ve been screwing?”
My head snaps up and I bite out, “You know what her name is, and I haven’t been screwing her.”
His brows shoot up. “Huh. Interesting. If this isn’t straight-up fucking, what is it?”
“None of your damn business. How about that?”
The whistle that escapes from him is long and low. “Damn, dude. Sounds like it could be serious. Can’t say I was expecting that.”
“Maybe it is.”
“Have you met the fam yet?”
I jerk my shoulders, refusing to admit that I’m still trying to convince this girl to dump her boyfriend and give me a shot. “Nope.”
He tosses his skates into his locker before stripping off his pads until he’s down to his jock. “Maybe you should do that before you start making plans and thinking long term.”
I blink, thrown off by the strange comment. Before I can ask what the hell he means, he takes off the cup and heads to the showers.
Not that I’ll admit it to Hayes, but it’s much too late to slow my roll with Willow. Even though she’s still with River, long-term thoughts are already circling my brain. The more time we spend together, the more obsessed I find myself.
Everything about her drives me crazy and has me falling a little bit harder.
She’s the first girl that I’ve actually wanted in my bed at night. I love spooning her smaller body and wrapping her up tight in my arms.
When it comes down to it, I just love being with her.
Even if that means we’re at the library studying. She’s so patient and caring. As much as I’ve always hated working with tutors, especially peer ones, Willow is different. She takes the time before we meet to organize what we’re working on into small, digestible chucks. She suggested that I get a smartpen, which records lectures while taking notes and then syncs them together. I’ve always been resistant to using any kind of device or aid that will tip off the people around me that I have a learning disability.
I hate to admit how much it’s helped.
She also encouraged me to ask for extra time on tests if I need it.
And my grades have improved because of her suggestions.
Just like hockey is my passion, teaching is hers.
I can just imagine her in a classroom with a bunch of kiddos hanging on her every word.
Is it weird that I can picture having one or two, maybe more with her?
I drag a hand through my sweat-soaked hair.
Clearly, I’m getting way ahead of myself.
This is the first time I’ve given my future outside of hockey serious consideration. The thoughts circling around in my head should freak the fuck out of me.
What does it mean that they don’t?
All I want to do is lock her down tight and make her mine.
More than anything, I need to know she feels the same about our relationship. That this isn’t all one sided. That what she has with me is different—better—than what she has with River.
Only then will I be able to ease up and loosen my grip. I hate feeling like she’ll slip through my fingers any second.
The need to see her crashes over me like a tidal wave as I strip off the pads and head to the shower. Ten minutes later, I’ve dried off and am dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. I plow my fingers through my hair, shoving the damp strands away from my face before slicking on some pit sauce.
Voilà—ready to go.
As I grab my duffle and head to the door, Ryder calls out, “You’re not gonna wait for me?”
“I’ll catch you out there,” I throw over my shoulder.
I’m much too impatient to make sure Willow stuck around.
My earlier threat wasn’t an idle one.
I’ll hunt her ass down.
Before he can fire off anything else, I’m shoving through the thick metal door and into the corridor. My steps quicken as I turn the corner and find the lobby crammed with people. It’s not uncommon for friends and family to stick around after games and wait for the players to get released from the locker room. There’s also a dozen or so groupies milling around, hoping to get lucky.
I don’t give them the time of day.
My gaze coasts over the crowd, looking for Willow’s golden-blonde head. When I don’t immediately spot her, nerves hum along my skin.
Where the hell is she?
It’s tempting to dip my fingers inside my pocket and pull out my cell. That’s the moment Britt shifts and my attention lands on her. It’s like getting smacked in the head with a two by four. My heart stalls at the sight of her wearing my jersey with her long blonde hair styled into two thick braids that rest against her shoulders.