Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
But I can't explain that shit to Archer when I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself. Falling in love wasn't ever on my agenda. My whole life has been hockey and taking care of Aspen. That's what I always wanted.
Until now. Until Emilia.
I'm falling. Like a fucking meteor crashing through the atmosphere.
The fact that she's Lariat's daughter should stop me. The fact that the team is counting on me should be all the deterrent I need to pull back and let it ride. Yet neither is doing the trick.
I want every piece of her, and I don't want to stop.
"It's not going to go badly between us," I mutter to Archer. "In fact, it isn't going to end at all."
His eyes widen before he shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "So it's like that, huh?"
"Yeah. I think it's exactly like that."
He holds his fist out for me to bump, laughing quietly. "It's your funeral, brother. Just…be smart about it, will you? With you and Logan, we have a real shot at the Cup this year. Don't burn it all down."
"Don't plan on it." I haul myself to my feet, and then pause, glancing down at him. "You ready to hear my advice now?"
He glances up at me with furrowed brows. "Advice about what?"
"You can only pretend you don't feel it for so long," I say. "Eventually, you gotta deal with it."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I cut my eyes at Micah. "Everyone knows how you feel about his sister except him."
"Fuck." Archer goes rigid, scrubbing a hand down his face. "It's not like that, Whatley."
"Yeah, it is." I hop over the boards onto the ice, glancing back at him. "If you don't get off your ass and do something about it, it won't be him you gotta worry about. It'll be some other motherfucker swooping in and putting a ring on her finger when you know damn well it should be yours."
"Jesus Christ," he growls, his jaw clenching.
"Just saying. If it were me, there's no goddamn way I'd be cool watching some other man love her because I was too worried about what her brother would say." I glance across the ice at Coach. "Why the fuck do you think I'm willing to risk his wrath for his daughter?"
Archer doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to say it. He knows I'm right. I see it written all over his face. Micah may be his best friend…but Wren Erikson? Well, she could be his world.
The same fucking way Emilia Lariat is going to be mine. Doesn't matter what Coach thinks. Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. The pretty little minx is mine.
Chapter Five
Emilia
"Jesus, this place is packed tighter than a jock strap," I mutter to Alice Madison, the team publicist, as we head toward the row of seats reserved for VIPs and staff behind the team box before the game is set to start.
She leans close to me, her soft laugh spilling out. "It's always like this during game nights!"
I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around the sheer number of people here. It's been a long time since I attended a game. I think I was fifteen or sixteen, and my dad wasn't the head coach back then. He was an assistant. I do not remember it being this packed.
Between the music, the laughter, and the shouting, the wall of noise is honestly overwhelming. But…I kind of like it. It's exciting.
We squeeze past a row of wives and girlfriends before falling into our seats directly behind the box. A few of the women in our row shoot me assessing looks, but I choose to ignore them, instead scanning the ice.
The whole team is out there, warming up.
My eyes immediately pick out Nash, my heart leaping into my throat. God, he looks good.
It's been two days since I kicked him out of my bed. Two days since we saw each other. Well…technically. I saw him briefly this morning when my dad introduced me to the team as their new therapist.
It wasn't a surprise to anyone. Word traveled fast. I'm not entirely sure how they feel about it yet considering I've seen them naked—and accused them of masturbating together—but they didn't seem like they hate the idea of having me on staff. So it's a start.
What was a surprise were the flowers and the jersey with Nash's name and number waiting on my desk when I got to my office after the introductions were done. He left a note telling me to wear it tonight. I feel like a jerk for not having the nerve to follow through…but I did not have the nerve to follow through.
I'm wearing a T-shirt with the team mascot instead. It felt like the safer option. And that's what has me so messed up in the head. I've never been the girl who does the safe, sane thing. I've never been the one afraid to take flying leaps.