Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I walk away, and I hear him call me something, probably a bitch. But I don’t care. I’m fucking done. I don’t really understand why dating is so hard in this world. It’s honestly like World War Three, and I keep taking the hits left and right.
It’d be really great if men weren’t so fucking stupid.
And if they do have to be so stupid, at least let them like eating pussy.
CHAPTER 3
Coleson
Coach taps his stick to the ice, and I flick my wrist, passing the puck to him with precision and ease. He passes it back almost immediately and I lean into my stick, slamming it into the puck once it reaches me, hitting the back of the empty net. We’ve been doing this same drill for over an hour and I’m exhausted, but I don’t allow that to show. I can be tired later. Right now, I need to work. It isn’t until Coach has me skating the length of the ice while timing me that I feel I may die a brutal death.
I’m sucking air, unable to fill my lungs, when he finally blows his whistle. I fall to the ice, heaving in deep breaths and letting them out as my heart slams against my chest. My whole body throbs with each slam of my heart, and my limbs feel like Jell-O. It’s an amazing sensation. I hear Coach skate off, and when he comes back, he drops my water bottle on my chest. I grunt from the thunk it makes against my pads, but then I reach for it, squirting water into my mouth while still trying to breathe.
“You shaved four seconds off your time. Good work, Katz.” I wish I could thank him or even nod, but all I can do is breathe. “I’m moving you up to the first line, taking Carter’s spot. Not as captain since that would cause an uproar, though, I think you’d do awesome.”
Finally, my heart returns to normal. “I would, but I get it.”
“How have things been with the guys?”
“Fine,” I lie because I don’t want him to worry about shit that can’t be changed. “They don’t talk to me much, but it’s cool. I’ve got a goal to work for, and in all honesty, I don’t need anyone to like me. I’m their teammate. I’ll support them on the ice, and that’s it.”
He nods, and I know he doesn’t like that. “You’ve apologized?”
“Many times. Truly, Coach, I’m good.” I try to convince him. I sit up, taking another pull of my drink. “I fucked up. I made this bed, and now I’m cuddling in it as I attempt to mend things with my teammates.”
“It’s been over a year,” he mentions with a grimace, and I nod.
“It has. And listen, no one has threatened to kick my ass in months, so I feel I’m making headway.”
I can tell that doesn’t please him one bit, and I feel bad about that. I don’t know why he likes me so much, but he does. I think that’s why I started to clean up the error of my ways. I was drinking a lot and doing dumb shit. I know that, and I own it. At the end of the day, I’m not the bastard I was six months ago. I want to be better. Not only for a shot at the NHL, but for myself. I don’t want to be my mom, and I sure as hell don’t want to disappoint Coach any more than I already have.
“Maybe I’ll throw a party, have everyone over and try to help bring some more camaraderie to the team.”
“I’ll be there,” I promise as I stretch, reaching for my toes. “Hell, I may have myself a wife by then if I can find a chick dumb enough to tie herself to me.”
Coach’s brows knit tightly. “What?”
“Yeah, El suggested I get a wife to fix my image since it’s battered like a goalie’s leg pads.”
“You’re kidding,” he says with a laugh, and I shake my head.
“Nope. I wish I was. She even said to knock the girl up, which isn’t going to happen, no matter how bad I want the NHL. I don’t want kids.”
Not with how I was raised, and especially since I know no woman would want me for long. I’m not a long-term kind of guy. I’m a right here, right now, get-you-off kind. I’m okay with that. Or I was.
Now, it’s different. Now, I need to become the kind of guy that would appeal to a long-term kind of girl. Though, I’m unsure how I’m supposed to do that. I don’t think there is even one woman who likes me right now, and I need to convince one to marry me?
Doubtful.
“Wow, and you’re considering it?”
I hold his gaze. “Wouldn’t you?”
He shrugs at that, visibly thinking it over. “I would,” he says after a moment, and I nod.