Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
I curl up with him. “My reality is so much better than my fantasies.”
“I improvised,” he says in a playful tone.
“No, I think you can read minds. Because that was exactly what I’d imagined.”
He cups my breast, pinching my nipple between his finger as he rolls me onto my side. “You think you can handle more?”
Shocked, I choke out, “You’re ready to go again?”
Duke presses his erection into my ass. “I’m always ready.”
“Hockey players,” I mutter.
Chapter Twenty
DUKE
I stand at the entrance to the rink next to Lila. She slips her fingers between mine and squeezes my hand. Lila is terrified of Max playing in her first game. For the past week, she’s been panicking, afraid Max will get hurt. I couldn’t lie to her. At some point, Max will get hurt. Hockey is a rough sport.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Lila covers her mouth with her gloved hand and shivers.
“Max can handle it,” I assure her, wrapping my arms around her to keep her warm. “I taught Max what she needs to know. She’s more prepared than her teammates. And by the looks of it,” I say, pointing at the team practicing at the other end of the rink, “Max is the best on the ice. I’m not worried.”
The girls on the opposing team look like they’re chasing their tails. They have no idea what they’re doing. A blonde girl skates away from the net with the puck. She doesn’t seem to grasp the concept. Two girls, who look like sisters, are busy waving at their parents in the stands, oblivious to their surroundings. Their coach looks irritated, and I don’t blame her. I don’t have the patience to teach youth hockey.
I cup Lila’s shoulder when I see the concern furrowing her brows and pull her closer. “Trust me, Doc. Max will be fine.”
She relaxes into me and rests her head against my chest. “I hope so. I worry about her all the time. She’s not like other kids.”
“Max is better than other kids.”
Lila smiles. “I feel like she’s growing up so fast.”
“I remember when Kat got accepted into college. I didn’t want her to go. I begged her to stay in Chicago with my dad.”
“You get it,” she sighs. “It’s hard to let them do their own thing. I want to make every decision for her, but I also don’t want to hold her back from doing what she loves.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling. At least Kat didn’t date in high school or college. I was afraid she would bring some idiot home and that I’d have to rearrange his face.”
She chuckles. “You just waited until Dean got drafted into the NHL.”
“Okay, Dr. Smart Ass,” I say with a mock attitude. “Laugh it up.” I press my lips to her earlobe, and she shivers. “Keep teasing me, and we’ll see what happens when we get home.”
“Duke,” Lila says, her blue eyes wide. She presses her finger to her lips. “Be quiet.”
No one can hear me over the cheers inside the rink.
I look to my left, where Max is on the ice, practicing with her teammates. She sweeps the puck from left to right to dodge her opponent. Max has some skills. With a few more years of practice, she might be as good as Kat was at her age. Kat was the best player on the ice. Much like this league, most of the girls had no idea what they were doing.
Max’s eyes lift from the ice, and she looks over at Lila and me. She waves her gloved hand, smiling with her mouthpiece showing.
After their warm-up ends, Max skates over to us and rips out her mouthguard. “Duke,” she says, spitting a little bit. “Coach said I can start this game.”
“Of course, he did. You’re the best player on the team.”
Max leans in, moving between Lila and me. “The girls on my team kind of suck,” she says under her breath.
“Max,” Lila says, laughing. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
She holds up her hands and shrugs. “It’s true, Mommy.”
A whistle blows, and Max glances over her shoulder at her coach.
Lila pats the top of Max’s helmet. “Have a good game, baby. We’ll be in the stands rooting for you.”
I raise my hand, and Max gives me a high-five. “Go get ‘em, Mad Max.”
She laughs at my nickname for her and then skates toward her bench. This is Max’s first game with her team, and as usual, her dad has flaked on her again. Ted promised to come to her practices, all of which he called at the last minute to cancel. Some he didn’t even show up at all. He’s worse than my dad. At least my father called ahead of time, so we could prepare ourselves for the disappointment.
We take our seats in the front row, leaving extra space for Ted in case he shows. A few of the fathers surrounding us glance in my direction. A dark-haired guy taps the middle-aged man next to him and nods at me. I raise my hand to acknowledge them. Both of their mouths drop when I confirm their suspicions. All of the parents on Max’s team know me. They’re used to seeing me in the stands and sometimes on the ice to help the coach.