Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“But I’m a nice guy,” I point out because she’s trying to set some clear boundaries. “You’re safe with me.”
She smiles but it’s a little flat. “Yeah… Scott seemed like such a nice guy at first too.”
I wince but reach out and take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I get it. I really do. But you said yes to this date and I can tell you’re enjoying yourself. You’re going to say yes to a second date too. We’ll see where it goes.”
“I’m not averse to dating at all. Again, I like it casual.” I see the uncertainty on her face. “The age gap though… it worries me.”
I lean in, looking her straight in the eyes. “Willa, age is just a number. Are you worried because you’re thinking about what others might think or how it might look?”
“I guess,” she says, a slight shrug telling me she’s not sure the source of her angst.
“Well, I don’t care what anyone thinks. It’s no one’s business anyway.”
“Your friends are going to make fun of you,” she points out. “Dating a cougar.”
I laugh, leaning in and giving her a swift kiss on her mouth that makes her look a little starry-eyed. “No, they won’t. Rafferty and North figured it out somehow and they didn’t mention your age once. In fact, Rafferty wanted to ask you out and I shut that down quickly.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Not kidding.”
“Rafferty, huh?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean… he is handsome. Is he older than you? Closer to my age?”
Her teasing is exactly what’s needed, because it means she’s not overly uptight about this issue. I kiss her again, mostly to wipe Rafferty’s name off her lips. She sighs into me, and my hand goes to the side of her neck to hold her in place as I explore her mouth.
When I pull back, she blinks at me dreamily. “I bet he doesn’t kiss like you.”
Laughing, I press my lips back to hers. “I have no idea and I’m not about to find out. But let’s do this again, and we can keep it casual if that’s what you want.”
I can see the hesitation and dare I say fear, but it’s short-lived and I’m rewarded with a blinding smile. “Then it’s a definite yes for a second date.”
CHAPTER 10
King
The referee positions himself, puck in hand, as my line moves into place around the circle near our opponent’s net. There’s nineteen seconds on the clock and we’re down by a goal against the Buffalo Wolves. The pressure is immense to make something happen and we’ve already pulled Drake from the goal to give us an extra-man advantage. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. The clang of sticks against the boards from my fellow players is a familiar chorus and the home crowd roars their need for us to score.
I take a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand.
Penn lines up for the face-off, his intense gaze locked on his opponent. I take my spot on the circle along with my line mates Stone, Boone and Bain, as well as Foster who is our extra man with Drake now on the bench. I’m positioned near the blue line, my stick ready to intercept and shoot if the opportunity arises.
The referee steps in. Time stands still as blades kiss the ice and then the puck drops. Penn reacts with lightning speed, his stick clashing with the Wolves’ center. He wins the face-off cleanly, sending the puck back to Boone. Boone immediately passes to Stone, who cradles it for a nanosecond while looking for an opening. The Wolves’ defense closes in, but Stone manages to slip the puck over to me.
I take a quick snap shot, aiming for the top corner, but the Wolves’ goalie knocks it away with his glove. The puck rebounds, bounces, and Bain crashes the net, battling for position. The Wolves’ defense is relentless, blocking his attempts and shoving him away from the crease.
Foster swoops in, collecting the puck and passing it back to me at the blue line. I wind up for a slap shot, but at the last second, I see an opening and pass to Penn, who’s positioned perfectly near the goal. He takes a quick shot, but the goalie deflects it with his pad.
The puck rebounds once more, this time to Boone, who desperately flicks it toward the net. The Wolves’ goalie sprawls to make the save, but the puck skitters to the side. Stone charges, trying to poke it in, but a Wolves’ defenseman gets his stick in the way, sending the puck back to the corner.
I glance at the clock and there’s only five seconds left as I chase the puck down and send it back toward the net one last time. Penn manages to deflect it, but it hits the goalpost and ricochets away. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game.