Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I clap my hands, laughing. “It was the shirt.”
“He asked me if I was pregnant!” she yells, and all I can do is hold my stomach.
“You hip-checked him to get at the food.” I point at her, and she glares.
“I was starving.” She throws her hands up to the sky. “Matthew took an hour to decide how the fuck to cut a turkey.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t be late,” she says, grabbing her bag. “He’s going to be at the rink. Nico said he’ll pretend to be surprised you’re there.”
I nod at her and take my phone to call Alex. It rings twice and then goes to voice mail. At the same time, a text comes in from her.
Alex: In a meeting. I’ll call you later.
Me: Going to visit Michael at the rink. I’ll be back later.
I clean up the kitchen and make sure that Mac has water before walking out the door and heading over to the arena. I park my car in the visitors’ parking lot, getting out and spotting Michael right away.
“Look who it is,” he greets, getting out of the car, and the heat from outside fills the garage.
“Fuck.” I look around. “It’s hot as balls outside.” I grab him around his neck when he gets close enough. “You look tired.” I slap his shoulder, happy to see him.
“The twins are teething,” Michael says. “And if one of them cries, the other cries.” He closes his eyes. “Even with the earplugs, I can hear them.”
“How’s my godson?” I ask him as we walk into the arena. “I haven’t seen him since January. I’ve only FaceTimed him.”
“He came home from daycare the other day, and he told his teacher she wasn’t the boss of him,” he tells me, and I roll my lips because I kept telling him that, every time I was on FaceTime with him.
“I mean, he’s not wrong. She isn’t the boss of him,” I say as he opens the door, and I come face-to-face with Cooper, who claps his hands when he sees me.
“There he is.” He hugs me, and fuck, does it feel good to be here. “The grouch who told the media to fuck off.”
“I did not tell them to fuck off,” I reply, slapping his back, and he lets me go. “They ask you the stupid questions,” I say, looking around to make sure there is no press, which I should have done beforehand.
“Don’t worry,” Michael starts. “Nico blocks the press from coming in after our final interviews. We came to clean out our lockers last week, but we wanted to hit the ice a bit, so a couple of us have come just to skate around.”
“Well, if I knew, I would have brought my stuff,” I say. “You know, get people really talking.” I laugh at them and then look down to see Nico coming our way with a smile on his face.
“There he is,” Nico says when he gets closer. “Glad you could visit. Mind if I borrow him for a bit?” he asks Michael and Cooper, who just smile and walk away.
“Let’s go to my office,” he suggests, and I walk with him down the same hallway that I used to walk down when we would come and play here. The same hallway I had to hold Cooper back from attacking Wilson when it came out that he was dating Franny.
“How are you enjoying Dallas?” he asks when we walk into his office. He waits for me to enter before closing the door.
“It was one hundred and four when I got in the car.”
“You get used to it.” He smirks. “Just like the cold.” It’s my turn to smirk. “Let’s sit on the couch.” He points at his seating area, and I walk over, and I’m surprised that I’m not more nervous.
“So …” I sit on the couch, looking over at Nico, who sits down. “You wanted to meet with me?”
“I did.” He sits with his elbows on his knees and his hands crossed in front of him. “Word on the street is that you might be looking to expand …” He tries to think of the words. “Your horizons.”
“Look, it’s no secret that this last round fucking sucked,” I say. “I also will not talk shit about my team.” I take a deep breath. “They will always have a place in my heart.”
“Time to make the heart bigger.” He smiles at me. “What do you want?”
“I want what every single person who laces up their skates wants,” I say. “I want to win the Cup.”
He laughs. “I can’t guarantee you that,” he says. “It would be stupid for anyone to guarantee you that, but what I can guarantee you is that no one wants to hoist that Cup as much as me.” He looks into my eyes. “It would be the biggest fuck you to everyone who said I wouldn’t be able to do it because I was too young. I knew nothing. Our team is solid.” He’s not wrong. “And no one is leaving. I have everyone locked in for another year, and I think you are the missing piece, Dylan,” he says. “Come to Dallas.”