Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“Are you his mom?” Banks asked.
“I am.” The woman smiled wide. She was freaking beautiful, with dark brown hair like her sons, brown eyes, and delicate features.
“I’m Banks.” He stuck his hand out and introduced himself.
“Valerie.” She shook his hand with a smile.
“Liam,” the brother said, introducing himself and shaking Banks’s hand.
Marissa went next because we’d look like assholes if we didn’t follow suit now that Banks had introduced himself. Inside, I was glowering at him. Outwardly, I tried my best not to scowl too hard. The last thing I wanted was for Lach’s family to think I was an unhappy bitch the first day they met me. I didn’t know why I cared but judging by the way my hands were suddenly sweating. I seemed to care a lot. His mother looked at me next.
“Lyla.” I offered her my hand and a small smile. She stared at me for a moment, taking in every one of my features in a way that made my knee want to start bouncing again. Liam bumped her shoulder, making her blink out of whatever she was thinking.
“Valerie,” she said slowly, still studying me. “Lyla James?”
My heart sped up. No way. No fucking way he’d told his mother about me. I managed to nod, mouth hanging slightly open.
“Um, yeah. That would be me,” I said, suddenly a little more nervous than I had been.
Valerie smiled wide, confirming that he had indeed told her about me. What had he said? Oh my God. I was going to kill him for this.
“Liam,” his brother said, ripping his mother’s hand from mine and shaking it. His lopsided smile made him look even more like his brother.
“It’s so nice to meet you both,” I said, smiling as I took my hand back and turned around.
Marissa’s fingers clawed into my thighs. I squeezed them, saying I know. I KNOW. My entire body felt hot. I wondered if I was blushing. Of course, I was freaking blushing. I wondered if they could tell. We focused on the game again. Number eight from the other team was pushed into the plexiglass directly in front of us. His eyes went wide like the air had been knocked out of him momentarily. He looked at me, or at least that was what it felt like, and then he was gone, chasing after Drew.
“That’s Nolan Astor,” Marissa whisper-shouted in my ear. “Hottest college hockey player. Not only at Ellis U, I mean everywhere.”
I laughed. “You’ve said that about three guys.”
“Well, after Lachlan, he’s the next hottest on the ice right now. Then it’s Jonah, then probably Prescott.”
I shook my head, biting back a smile. As I looked around, though, I did notice that the only jersey that rivaled Lach’s number ten was Astor’s number eight. I wondered if they were friends. I played against the same handful of girls since I’d started on competitive teams. Sometimes, we’d end up on the same travel team. Other times, we’d played against each other. On the field, we were rivals, but off of it, we’d become friends. However, we didn’t hit each other the way these guys did. I wasn’t sure I could be friends with someone who slammed me into a wall every five seconds. Mason was the next one slammed against the plexiglass in front of us. I jumped in my seat again. Sitting in the first row was probably not a good idea for someone as wound up as I was.
Our team tried unsuccessfully for a goal twice. They tried three times unsuccessfully. My stomach was still tight from nerves as I watched. I played a lot of soccer games. Watched even more of them. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this anxious. As I watched Mason take hold of the puck and pass it to Prescott, who then passed it to Lach, I held my breath. They were right freaking there, right in front of the goal again. Lach passed it back to Mason, who tried to get it in unsuccessfully. Number eight from the other team hit it straight to Lachlan’s stick. The goalkeeper hadn’t even fully stood from blocking the last goal attempt, and Lachlan hit it right above his head.
The crowd went WILD. I jumped out of my seat and cheered right along with them. It was impossible not to get caught up in the moment. They celebrated in a group hug as a loud horn blared, and we continued to cheer. After pulling apart, Lach set a hand on the plexiglass and dragged it around the rink, which I guessed was the hockey version of high-fiving the crowd. When he reached our section, I caught his eye immediately. Surprise flashed in them but was quickly replaced with what I could only describe as joy. I smiled wide. He smiled wider, then glanced over my head and raised his eyebrows at his mom and brother before skating off. As he did, I felt a pat and squeeze on my shoulder and looked back to find his mom smiling at me. Oh, my fucking GOD, I WAS GOING TO KILL HIM FOR THIS. I smiled back and looked forward quickly. When time ran out, a horn went off, and the players headed where they’d skated out from in the beginning.