Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Today, our fierce Ice Pups will face off against tiny rivals, the Little Lightning, and I’d like to meet whoever came up with these names because they’re freaking adorable.
I’ve learned to have my skates on in case I have to hit the ice for a downed player or a potential meltdown. It’s far safer than me trying to waddle across on tennis shoes. While I’m waiting for all the kids to arrive—most sitting on benches as parents lace up skates—I step out onto the ice for a few turns on the smooth sheet. My heart thrums as I glide across the glassy surface, feeling the edge of my skates dig in and leaving behind a trail to show my journey.
Eventually, each player wobbles out onto the ice and I warm up with them, enjoying the swoosh and scrape of their tiny skates. I run a few fun warm-up drills King taught them and in between, I scan the crowd for the man who makes my heart want to skip out of my chest.
And there he is, walking toward us with his tall frame and easy smile. He’s been away for two days on a road trip to Chicago and Dallas, making his return feel like a ray of sunshine after a cloudy day. His presence alone calms my nerves and if that isn’t proof that King is a different sort of man, I don’t know what is. I thought my past had so clouded my judgment with dating that I’d be looking for all kinds of faults and warning flags to raise their ugly heads. Instead, his steady confidence, genuine spirit and willingness to communicate openly to dispel my fears has slowly built a trust that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt with another person outside of Brittany. It boggles me how fast this has happened.
King’s sporting a Pittsburgh Titans jacket over a simple gray hoodie, jeans and a backward cap, and I love his youthful, laid-back style. It doesn’t even make me think he’s too young—only that he’s too hot. Meanwhile, I’m wearing my go-to Saturday outfit—comfy jeans and my favorite Ice Pups hoodie with my hair up in a ponytail.
I skate to the edge of the boards to greet him.
“Hey there, Coach Willa,” King murmurs, engulfing me in a warm hug. His embrace is strong and reassuring, just as I expected it would be.
And damn… he smells so good.
“Hey yourself, Coach King,” I reply with a grin, muffled against his chest. We pull back slightly, and he plants a lingering kiss on my lips. For a moment, it feels like we’re in our own little world… until Brittany’s voice breaks through.
“Get a room you two!” she exclaims playfully, making us both laugh. She stands a few feet away, holding Izzy’s tiny hand. The little girl bounces with excitement, bundled up in her Ice Pups jersey.
I let out a chuckle. “You’re just jealous,” I tease my sister.
“You bet I am,” she replies with a good-natured grin.
King breaks away to step out onto the ice, his confidence in walking on it far greater than mine. I stay at the boards as he rounds up the kids who are currently skating in chaotic circles. Among them, I easily spot Theo McVey with his bright green helmet, flashing a wide, toothy grin as he skates effortlessly. His father is in the stands, a booming voice that carries over the din of excited chatter. He shouts out instructions to his son and I turn to look at him with unease.
“Stick down, Theo! Keep your eyes on the puck!” he bellows, his tone still friendly despite its volume. He’s bundled in a puffy jacket and a red cap pulled low over his eyes.
King also turns to look at him and then exchanges a look with me. I know he’s poised to shut the man down if necessary but right now, he’s abiding by the rules.
The referee signals warm-ups are over and King calls all the kids to us. “Okay, team, let’s huddle up!” The kids stumble and slide toward us, forming a disjointed circle.
King turns to me and sweeps his hands toward the kids. “Coach Willa has a few things to say.”
I panic, completely blanking on the stuff we practiced and what we’re supposed to focus on. I glare at King and he smirks.
Squaring my shoulders, I remind myself these are little kids and I surely can come up with some sort of inspirational speech. “All right, so, uh, remember what we practiced?” I begin, racking my brain for the few basic drills we attempted. “We’re going to, um, focus on… passing the puck! Yes, passing the puck. To each other. Got it?”
King snorts and covers his face so I don’t see him laughing. The kids nod, their faces a mix of confusion and excitement. I glance at Brittany in the stands, who gives me an encouraging thumbs-up. Taking a deep breath, I continue, “And, uh, don’t forget to… skate toward the other team’s goal. That’s where we want to score.”