Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
When the doctor left, Zeke insisted I lay down, and then sat on the bed beside me.
“What did your coach say about you leaving?” I asked.
“I haven’t talked to him. I told Johnson that I had a family emergency, but I didn’t give him any details. I didn’t know what to say, and all I could think about was getting out of there and finding you.”
“I need to have a word with whoever told you I was missing.”
“The fuck you do. Had I played that game, then found out you were missing, I would have gone after your whole fucking family, no matter how scary they are. And they only knew about the tracker because of me.”
I laid a hand on his thigh. “I just want to keep you out of harm’s way, and I never want to do anything to jeopardize your hockey career.”
“You haven’t, I made the choice to leave. But I’d better call Coach Martin. I need to check in.”
“You should’ve called him while the doctor was looking at my wrist.”
“No way. I wasn’t leaving your side until I knew the extent of your injuries.”
“It’s just like I told you, I’ve got a sprained wrist and some bruises.”
“I had to make sure you weren’t just trying to make me feel better and that things weren’t worse.”
I shook my head. “I love you.”
Zeke smiled. “I love you too, but now I’ve got to go deal with the consequences of rushing out before the game.”
“There have to be provisions for players to leave for a family emergency.”
“There are, but I should’ve talked directly to Coach before I left, and technically, you’re not my family.”
“Marry me.” The words burst out before I even realized I was going to say them.
Zeke’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“Agree to marry me. Then you can tell your coach we’re engaged. A fiancé has to count as family.”
“Wow, that’s… Talk about moving fast.”
“We can stay engaged for a while, if that’s what you’d like, but you and I both know this is a forever thing.”
Zeke studied me. “Are you only asking me so I won’t be in as much trouble with Coach?”
“No. Asking you now is just about convenient timing. Marrying you is about us belonging together. Also, I need you in my bed every night.” I gave him a slow once-over.
“Are you seriously horny when you just got your wrist bandaged and you’re all banged up?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Zeke rolled his eyes. “You’re really serious about marrying me?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Fuck. I…I didn’t expect that, but yes, I’ll marry you, and I’ll be in your bed every night.”
I smiled, feeling more at peace than I had in a long time. “Call Coach Martin now.”
32
ZEKE
While Vito was getting his X-rays, I’d stood in the hallway waiting. Dom had dropped off some sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I’d quickly changed out of my sweaty workout gear. Now that Vito was resting, I was back out in the hallway preparing to call Coach Martin. I checked the score of our game. We’d won 2-0, thank God. I wished I’d been there. Maybe I could’ve helped to make the score higher, but at least I didn’t fuck us over by leaving. That was what really mattered. It would’ve been a more difficult conversation with Coach if we’d lost.
A small part of me was hoping he wouldn’t answer, that I could just leave him a message, but it only took a few rings before his gruff voice came on the line. “Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m with my fiancé. He fell down a flight of stairs into the basement at a friend’s house and—”
“Damn. Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s got a sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruises. He needs rest, but he’s going to be all right.”
“That’s good, but the way you handled the situation was not. And what the fuck do you mean fiancé?”
“We’ve been keeping things pretty private, but—”
“You haven’t even been in Boston that long. How the hell are you engaged already?”
“It happened fast, but I feel good about this. He’s the one.”
“Don’t you ever walk out of the arena again without talking to me. I ought to fucking suspend you.”
“If you need proof that—”
Coach snarled. “I don’t need fucking proof. I need to know where my players are, and I should be told in person when an emergency happens, especially when it’s right as we’re about to go out on the ice.”
“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I know I did.” I wanted to plead with him not to suspend me, but I was ready to take whatever punishment I deserved.
“I need you in the game next week and it sounds like you had a legitimate emergency. You break the rules again, and I will put you on the bench. If I have to, I’ll kick you right off this team, no matter how damn good you’ve been playing lately.”