Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Sounds great. Talk soon.” And with that, she disconnects because she’s got important things to do such as run a professional hockey team.
I push out the doors, catching the first few players coming off the bus. We’ve all come to a point in our relationships where I’m “Dominik” and not “Mr. Carlson” to them anymore. I shake each player’s hand as they step down, offering words of encouragement that are tailored to them individually.
When Bishop steps off, I say, “There’s my team’s leader. All hail King Bishop.”
He laughs and takes my hand, giving it a hard pump.
I lean in closer. “Listen… can you grab the guys and wait for me? I need to go over something with you.”
There’s no need for explanation as to whom I’m referencing when I say, “the guys”. He knows I mean the first line… the group of men I’ve actually become friends with over the past few weeks.
“Sure thing, boss man,” he quips before stepping off to the side.
I continue to greet all the players, same as the coaches and support staff. There are two buses that came packed with our team from the airport, and I make sure to touch base with each person for a few minutes before they file into the hotel to check-in.
When I’m finally able to look for my first line, I find them huddled up together in a corner of the lobby. They’re all surfing their phones, some with earbuds in.
When I join them, they put their phones away and give me their undivided attention.
“So, I got a call from Gray Brannon right before you guys pulled up,” I tell them. Bishop, Erik, Legend, Dax, Tacker, Wylde, and Legend all study me curiously. “She’s opening up the owner’s box to just family members from both teams to sort of commemorate the spirit of how we came together to arrange for Rafe to come home to Raleigh. She’s asked me to attend and to bring some of our team’s family there. I wanted to offer it up to your families first.”
Legend is the first to speak. “I know Pepper, Brooke, Blue, and Nora were all planning to sit together during the game tomorrow. I’m sure they’d probably enjoy that. We can give them a call.”
It’s not lost on me that Willow’s name was not included in that group of women, and I’m not sure what that means. But neither was Regan’s, so it’s more than likely they’re going to be sitting with family.
So I turn to Dax. “What about your family? I know your parents had planned on coming to all the finals.”
I haven’t seen or talked to Dax since Willow and I broke up. I have no clue if he even knows or not because I don’t know if she’s told anyone.
The look he gives me back is bland, and I can’t read a damn thing. “I’ll call my parents when they land. They’re flying in today. I’m sure they’d like that. Regan, too.”
I hesitate, not sure whether I should question the obvious way Willow isn’t mentioned, but then again, he hadn’t mentioned his sister Meredith either.
I decide it’s not my business. If they were coming, he would have mentioned them. So I give him a short nod, then address the rest of the guys. “Someone just text me a final list of who will be coming.”
“Sure thing,” Bishop replies, and the men start to disband.
I turn for the elevators, thinking I’ll go to my room and get some work done, but then just as quickly decide I can’t let the Willow thing go.
“Dax,” I call as I pivot toward him. “Got a minute?”
The look he gives me doesn’t bode well. It’s the same one I used to get from him all the time when I would hound him for information on his sister. It clearly conveys he doesn’t want to be bothered about it.
I’ve never let that put me off before.
Dax approaches, and I ask bluntly, “Isn’t Willow coming to the game?”
He shakes his head. “Work obligations.”
This surprises me. I never thought she’d miss her brother’s games once the Vengeance got this far. “She took a job?”
“Yup.” His face is stony, and he’s clearly not looking for extended conversation.
“Why?” I demand, even though I’m thinking I know the answer.
And that causes emotion to flicker in his eyes. He leans in, growling, “Why the fuck do you think she took a job?”
His message is loud and clear. The accusation is I drove her away from watching her brother potentially win his first Cup championship.
“Where did she go?”
“Why do you care?” he retorts. “You clearly didn’t care enough to give her the time of day to talk this shit out. You’ve got no business even knowing a damn thing about her from this point on.”
“Where?” I snarl. Because I have a sneaking suspicion it’s going to be somewhere I don’t like.