Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I just stare at her. “For what?”
She laughs, as does everyone else. Especially Dimitri. “To speak!”
Speak about what? I’m not laughing. Instead, I’m snapping the hell out of my wrist to the point I feel I’ll draw blood. I clear my throat and slowly stand, making sure my breasts are covered. “Thank you for, um, that, um, warm welcome,” I stutter, and when I look down, Dimitri is watching me like he is hanging on every word I am saying. I refuse to let him have the upper hand with me.
I clear my throat once more and stand a bit taller. “As Shelli said, my name is Austen McDavid, and I am here to learn from the best. To take what is being done here and create the same thing in Knoxville. My grandfather has entrusted me to both learn how to run a winning team and how to build one. I am very thankful for the opportunity to not only work hard with Shelli and the coaches, but with you guys too. I will want to speak to you, learn what helps you to be successful, and to know about you as a player and a person. Together, I know we can make the Knoxville Bears a team that won’t be trifled with. Just like the Assassins. Thank you.”
Everyone claps as I lower myself into my seat. Once I sit down, Dimitri leans in. “Great job.”
I look at him, knowing he is just teasing me, but his eyes aren’t teasing at all. They’re proud, which confuses the hell out of me. My mouth is dry as I rasp out, “Thank you.”
He winks at me, making my insides go nuts, before he looks back at the coaches. As I sit there, I take notes of all the names of the coaches since a few of them I don’t know yet. When it’s time for all the players to introduce themselves, I write down each name, matching it to the roster. Thankfully, Shelli gave me a badass roster with names and faces. After Dimitri’s turn, I write his name, not needing to look for his picture. But then his hand closes over mine, taking my pen. Before I can complain, he fixes his name. I misspelled it. Then he goes through the roster, writing a name beside everyone’s real names. I don’t realize until he gets to his that he’s giving me their nicknames. Beside his, he writes, Russian Stallion/Stal, and my brows shoot up.
“Seriously?” I ask, and he nods, not joking even a little bit.
“I’m a workhorse,” he whispers with a shrug, and I know that. His schedule has hours of training on it, and from what Elli said, he’s the first to come and the last to leave. He hands me back my pen, and it’s as warm as my body. I work my lip, my brows coming together as I take in all his notes. He didn’t have to do that, but I know he did it to help me. Which is kind and I guess makes me hate him less.
Not much less, but less.
When the meeting is over, I walk behind him as we head down the stairs to leave the viewing area. As we wait on the steps to make our way down, he looks back at me and smiles. “Good meeting?”
I shrug. “Loads of information.”
“Yeah, for—” He pauses and then moves past me. I watch as he grabs my discarded jacket, and I sigh. “Can’t forget this.”
“Thanks. I was burning up.”
“Me too,” he says, and I’m sure he doesn’t mean the way I was. “But you need this.”
I eye him. “I know.”
“To make sure no one else sees how you react to my inappropriateness.”
I glare at him.
“Or ticks—whatever you got going on. Let me know if you need help, though.”
With that, he strolls past me, not a care in the world, catching up with his cousin and friends. I curse at his back, deciding I still dislike him greatly, just as Shelli steps into my line of sight. Fuck me.
“Hey,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “I thought you were going to sit with me.”
I nod. “And I thought we were supposed to sit up there. I could have sworn you told me that.”
“I probably did. Who knows?” she laughs, waving me off. “Funny, Dimitri sat next to you.”
I make a face. “He’s very arrogant.”
“Oh yeah. His cousin is no better. But then, all hockey players have to be a bit arrogant.”
“So I’ve been told,” I mutter as I put on my jacket.
“You don’t like him, do you?”
I whip my face around to meet her gaze. “What? No! Why would you ask that?”
She shrugs. “Y’all seem very comfortable together.”
I snort. “Um, no. He’s annoying as hell, and I told him that like eight times.”