Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
"That’s Miller’s title." I point at Miller, who flips me the bird while he gets dressed into his workout gear. "I’m Mr. Bad Boy."
"So how many girls you bringing tonight?" Jake, the other rookie sitting beside him, asks, his eyes wide as he thinks about it. "Last year, someone said you brought triplets."
I laugh, shrugging off my jacket. "I did," I say. I don’t add that I ditched them as soon as we left the party because there was only so much squealing a man can take. "But tonight." I hang my jacket and take off my tie. "I’m going to be flying solo." They both look at me with their mouths open. It’s rare I attend functions alone, but for the past six months, something has changed, and I don’t know what it is. "It’s better to go in solo and then sweep up all the girls once you're there." I wink at them, and they both laugh. Little do they know that as soon as the party is over, I’m going home by myself so I can fucking rest. The preseason game we had three days ago was brutal, and even though I didn’t fight anyone, it was physical, and I’m still fucking dragging my ass from it. But I’m going to hide that shit deep inside. No one gets to know that but me.
I mix my protein shake and walk to the gym. Everyone has different exercises that they go with. I get on the bike and pedal while I watch the news recap of today. The number of fans is always surreal, but today was something extra. When I finish with the bike, I go lift weights before changing into my uniform.
The nerves in my stomach start now, and then the smile when I slip the jersey on. I have not done many things that I can be proud of, but being a hockey player is one of them. I grab my stick as we skate on the ice for pre-warm-up. The only fans in the building lined up by the glass are family members. I stand in front of Cooper and Michael as they both shake their hands at their kids. One of the little girls looks over at me and waves, and I hold up my gloved hand and wave back at her. "Don’t smile at her like that," Cooper says, pushing my shoulder. "She already kept the puck you gave her last year."
"What can I say?” I skate in front of him, ready to get the puck passed from the other side of the ice. “Girl’s got taste." I grab the puck and toss it softly over the glass. The little girl shrieks and grabs it. "That’s a ‘good luck’ puck," I tell her, and she turns and says something to Erika, who just rolls her eyes at me.
"Behave," she says, and I just smirk at her. She was my agent for a little while, and then we decided to go our separate ways. In other words, she fired me and handed me off to someone else at the firm who sucks balls and doesn’t do anything for me. But it’s what I have to live with.
"Me." I point at myself. "I’m an angel."
I skate away, and when the horn sounds, we all skate off the ice. Normally, we would wait for the Zamboni to pass and then get back on the ice, but everyone is being introduced tonight. We stand in the hallway by number. One by one, we skate out, and I bounce on my skates with nervous energy. Only six of us left—Michael, Cooper, Miller, Ralph, Manning, and me.
"New year, boys," Manning says, and we look over at him. "Last year." It’s a huge step to walk away from the game when it’s all you’ve known your whole life.
I can’t even imagine making that decision, but as the days go on, it’s on my mind more and more. "Wilson," the guy says, "you’re up next."
"Here we go." I move to the white X that shows us where to stand. I can see the lights coming in from the ice.
"How about you don’t give me any white hairs this season?" Manning suggests, and I just shrug.
"I wouldn’t have to give you guys white hair if you weren’t pussies and made me fight all your battles." I smirk at them, knowing that they would drop their gloves for me in a heartbeat. "Now, let's put some points on the board, yeah?" When I hear the announcer say my name, I walk down the tunnel toward the ice. The music is blaring, and the minute I slide my skates onto the ice, the whole place erupts.
"Let’s do this," I tell myself as I line up with the rest of the guys, shutting out the noise.