Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
It wasn't until I'd been with him for a little over a year that I started noticing some of the red flags that my friends saw straight away.
I blame my lack of perceptiveness on the fact that we were in all the same classes and we worked after school on routines and training. My world was consumed by him and his aspirations. It didn't matter how many times I told him that I had no interest in having a career as a figure skater, that my dreams laid with hockey and always had, he didn’t care. He always brushed off my ambitions as fantasies that I’d get over and skate dutifully at his side for as long as he wanted me there.
But I'd fallen in love with hockey long before I fell for him. And, thanks to my dad and his coaching position, I'd fallen in love with the Bangor Badgers.
Once Brian realized I wasn't in the relationship to help further his career is when the mask came off. He'd always been a bit on the self-centered side, but once he knew that my career aspirations lied with the Badgers, he really took the gloves off. He forced ultimatums on me and degraded my talents, telling me I'd never get a job on the team unless my father's name was dropped, and went so far as to say that I’d be better off if I married him and traveled the world on the competition circuit.
I feel like an idiot for staying with him as long as I did.
But out of respect for the amount of time we’d been in a relationship, I’d sat him down face to face and told him I didn't love him anymore, didn't love the way he treated me, and that there would be no us anymore.
He'd punched a hole through the wall of his apartment, and I'd been so shocked by the outburst that I hadn't been able to move. I'd been across the room, but it was no less impactful, no less scary. I said goodbye and rushed out of there as fast as I could, hoping that would be that.
It wasn't.
Reese flashes Monroe another chiding look, but I wave her off. “She’s not wrong,” I say. “Brian doesn't want me back. Not for who I am, anyway. He wants what I can offer him. An accredited figure skater to enter competitions with, and to be on his arm at events to give him clout. I wish I would’ve seen that sooner and not wasted so many years on him.”
My friends give me a sympathetic look, and Monroe reaches across the table to squeeze my hand.
“Fuck him,” she says. “He can't keep this up forever,” she continues. “I mean, you're part of the Bangor Badgers now, doesn't he realize that means you can summon an army of very attractive and muscly men at any moment?”
Reese and I laugh, the levity a much welcome distraction from the anxiety twisting in my chest.
“Maybe you're right,” I say. “Maybe I should enlist Lawson's help. I do have those few speaking events I have to attend coming up, and you know Brian will be there. Maybe if he saw me with somebody...” My voice trails off, my mind considering the possibility.
Would that be enough?
Would seeing me with the same man more than a few times be enough to signal to him that we were really and truly over? That he had zero shot of winning me back?
“Do it,” Reese says. “Lawson definitely seemed game that night, so who's to say he won't be now?”
“Well, I am his skating coach now.”
“Does he know about your dad?” Monroe asks.
“No,” I say. “Outside of the vets and Mr. McClaren, no one does. I asked them all not to say anything because I have to earn this team’s respect, and them thinking my dad handed me a job won't get me very far.”
“Totally get that,” Monroe says, and Reese nods.
“You should do it,” Reese continues. “Seriously, you need and deserve some fun. And Lawson Wolfe definitely looks like a good time. Bonus if it makes your dickhead of an ex take a hint.”
I finish off the last of my iced coffee as I glance at my watch.
“We'll see,” I say and scooch away from the table.
My friends follow me as we make our way outside of the cafe.
We're all heading toward the same place, but we take separate cars because our work hours are all different. Still, as we make our way to the practice arena, it feels like I have the unflinching support of my friends, and that’s almost enough to chase away the worries I have about how far Brian is willing to go to get his way.
“Go,” I give the command after I've wrapped a resistance band around Lawson's hips, positioning myself behind him to add a weight as he shoots off across the ice with me in tow.