Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
"Yep," I agree, shaking my head. The game has been neck and neck for most of the night, but we're finally up by one with ten minutes left in the third. The Wild is doing everything possible to keep one of our guys in the box and out of the way. Tempers are flaring.
Even Kris is getting pissed, and he's usually the most levelheaded one on the ice.
"I hope Wes uses him as a puck when he gets out of the box," Laney mumbles.
When I laugh, she shrugs ruefully. "Maybe it makes me slightly crazy when they try to mess with him. I know he can take care of himself. He proves it every time he's on the ice, but it still makes me mad, you know?"
"I get it." I smile at her. "I threaten to kill them daily, but no one else is allowed to do it."
"Exactly!" she cries. "He's driving me nuts with that stupid baby book, but we're the only ones allowed to bully him."
My heart twinges as soon as she mentions the baby book. She's not showing yet, so it's easy to forget that she's pregnant sometimes. She's not in your face about it like some women are. I'm so happy for her and Wes. But I can be happy for her and Wes and be a little sad for me, too. They aren't mutually exclusive emotions. They don't exist in a vacuum. We're allowed to celebrate with our friends and grieve for ourselves simultaneously.
I learned that early in life. Sometimes, one of us would get great news, and another would get bad news on the same day. We celebrated and grieved at the same time. That's the pain of life. That's the beauty of it, too. It's fragile, and it's unfair, and it never makes sense. But it's life. You have to take it as it comes. Even when it's hard. Even when it hurts. Celebrate anyway. Grieve anyway. Live anyway. Once it's over, there are no second chances.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, her face falling. "I shouldn't have mentioned the book. I know with your diagnosis and everything you're dealing with—"
"It's okay." I place my hand on her arm, trying to reassure her. "I'm thrilled for you and Wes, Laney. You're going to make amazing parents. Please don't ever think you can't celebrate because of me. I don't ever want that. I may not be able to have kids the old-fashioned way, but there are all kinds of options now. I'll be a mom one day."
"Cancer sucks," she mutters, tears welling in her eyes as she throws her arms around me in a fierce hug. "And you're going to be the most incredible mom."
I hug her tightly, grateful for her and the other wives. I've spent so long surrounded by the guys that I forgot how nice it is to bond with women.
"Oh!" Laney squeals, jumping to her feet as Gray snatches the puck from Jay and takes off down the ice with it. "Go, Gray! Go!"
Jay takes off after him, but the penalty box light goes off, and Wes comes flying out of the box like a madman. He takes off after Jay like a streak of lightning. I grab Laney's arm, holding my breath as the three of them fly down the ice. Jay charges at Gray from behind, preparing to check him. Wes sees his intent and picks up speed.
He slams into Jay from the side, knocking him away from Gray right at the last second.
"Take the shot!" I scream at Gray, jumping from my seat.
The world…shifts…beneath my feet. The ice falls out of focus.
I reach out, grasping blindly for anything to hold me up. But it's already too late.
My legs give out, and everything goes black.
Chapter Ten
Kris
"What the fuck is your problem?" Wes shouts at Jay, shoving him across the ice. He's got his gloves off and is working on his helmet by the time I reach him. I grab him by the back of his jersey, yanking him backward.
"Enough!" I growl. "You aren't getting ejected from this fucking game over him, Wes!"
"He's going to hurt someone if he keeps this shit up, man," Wes growls right back at me, turning a dark glower on Jay. Their captain has him by the jersey, having the same conversation with him.
"Let the refs handle it, and you handle your shit. We need you in this fucking game, not riding the bench because you gave him exactly what the fuck he wanted," I mutter. "He wants you out the way, and that's exactly what you're about to give him. Settle your ass down and play the fucking game, Davies."
Wes rattles off a string of curses and then turns to glower at Sam Givenchy. "Get your boy on a fucking leash before he hurts someone," he snaps. "We didn't play dirty in our house. Don't play dirty in yours." He bends down and snatches his stick and gloves off the ice.