Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
But the truth was he’d been decent over the last week — as decent as he could be, anyway. And after reading an autobiography by one of my favorite coaches over the weekend, I was curious to see if a different approach would strike with our hellcat of a winger.
“What?” Aleks asked, plopping down on the bench and sitting spread eagle with his murderous glare on me.
“Look, even thinking about the words I’m about to say makes me want to kick myself in the balls. I don’t do compliments, or atta boys, so don’t get used to it.”
I paused to assess his reaction, and when I noticed his eyebrow ticcing up a bit, when he cracked his neck and lifted his chin, I internally smiled.
I had his attention.
“You’ve always been great on the ice. I don’t have to tell you that, nor do I fucking want to, to be honest. But,” I added, sucking in a breath like it pained me to say the words. “Your wrist shots lately have been fucking immaculate. You haven’t been afraid to get dirty for us this season, and while sometimes those penalties cost us,” I said with a glare. “More times than not, they swing the momentum in our favor.”
Suter’s brows were furrowed, his jaw tight — and I wasn’t sure if he was pissed or absolutely fucking floored that I was saying something nice.
“The truth of the matter is that you’ve been instrumental in our winning season, and if you keep playing your best, you’re going to take us to the playoffs. Maybe even to the Cup. So, keep it up.”
Aleks blinked a few times, and then opened his mouth, shut it again, and stood. He pulled his glove off and reached his hand out for mine.
“Appreciate that, man.”
Hope flickered in my chest as I shook his hand hard. Maybe this was what he responded to. Maybe having everyone raining down on his ass all the time made him not give a fuck, but a little positive reinforcement got through.
“Don’t expect this shit ever again,” I said. “And also, just know I think you can do better. I think you can be better. I know you have a reputation. I know you probably like it. But you can be rough around the edges and a scary motherfucker while also being a good teammate.”
I gave him a pointed look, fully expecting him to suck his teeth and skate off pissed like usual.
But for the first time, he nodded, sniffing and looking away from me like he was indifferent to what I’d said.
But I knew I’d gotten through. He’d heard me.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
“Holy shit! Look what the cat dragged in!”
Aleks and I turned toward the commotion, and I almost cracked a smile when I saw Carter Fabri walking through the tunnel. He traipsed in with all the swagger of a fourteen-year-old, practically bouncing on his heels.
Suter was unimpressed by the arrival, and he made his way back on the ice as I wobbled on my skates toward Fabio. A half-dozen of my teammates shoved past me in an effort to get to our teammate first. They tackled him in hugs and ruffled his dark hair, hitting him with joke after joke as he smiled and hugged every one of them.
This was what made me feel like he could be a leader — a captain, even.
Everyone loved him. Everyone was fired up by his presence. He made his teammates feel good. He made them feel confident.
If only he could match this energy with talent on the ice.
“Cute pubes, Fabio,” I teased when I made it to him, rubbing the scruff on his chin before he batted my hand away. He grinned, though, and clapped me hard on the back. “Nice to see you.”
“Couldn’t let my team play in my city without showing up to support.”
Our AHL affiliate was based in New York. My guess was they had a day off, and so here he was, ready to cheer on the team he should have been playing for.
He was less prideful than I was. I was fairly certain I couldn’t do the same without throwing myself a fucking pity party.
“So… any of the girls come with you this time?” Carter asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t care all that much.
“Grace is backpacking in Spain,” Jaxson said.
“And Maven makes the most of any away game by forcing Livia to help her get caught up on wedding shit,” Vince chimed in. He shook his head. “That woman and her planning. I feel bad for the event coordinator she hired. Poor woman is going to have the shakes when she sees the list my future wife has put together for her.”
We all chuckled a bit at that, but I didn’t miss how Carter deflated a little when Vince mentioned Livia wasn’t here. She was our team dentist, and it didn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see Carter had a crush on her.