Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
The boys are continuously up and down the ice, blocking each other’s advances and attempts at the goal. I still hardly understand what’s going on but I know it’s damn good.
Two minutes to go. The crowd is going nuts and my eyes are constantly flicking back and forth between the clock and the ice.
A minute left.
Forty-five seconds.
Thirty seconds.
Shit. If I was a nail-biter, I'd have none left.
Twenty seconds and Logan shoots back up the ice with a look of absolute concentration on his face. The boys all back him up while the opposition race to catch him but he’s too far ahead.
The whole stadium holds their breath as they watch my man. He brings his arm back, preparing to shoot. The goalie tenses, ready to fly in whichever direction needed.
Logan strikes and the breath catches in my throat. The stick connects with the puck and it shoots forward, hurtling through the air towards the goal. The goalie dives for it and I throw myself to the boards to get a better look.
The puck comes through on the other side, slamming into the nets before falling to the ice. The buzzer sounds and the Thunder fans go absolutely nuts.
There are still fifteen seconds left in the game but we all know it's over.
Jax comes barrelling into Logan and they slam their chests together before giving each other a hug. Gloves are thrown in the air and helmets are pulled off as the crowd counts down with the timer.
The final buzzer sounds and it’s finally over with my boys reclaiming their title as National Champions.
Confetti cannons are shot up into the grandstands while the rest of the team jumps the barriers to celebrate with the players who just bought the game home.
I find myself standing on my chair, jumping up and down, cheering for my boys. Fuck. I'm so happy right now, I can hardly contain myself. I'm so proud of them but mainly Logan. I'm so happy for him. This is what he has worked for all year and it's paid off in the biggest way.
I’m jumping and cheering so much I don’t notice my man approaching and find myself being hauled off the chair and thrown over his shoulder with his hand firmly on my ass. He takes off into the middle of the ice and shuffles me around so I can see the view he has been looking at all night.
I look up in the stands and am awed. This is incredible. Confetti falls from the sky as a sea of Thunder jerseys applauds for my boys. "You did amazing," I tell him.
“That was the hardest game I’ve ever played,” he admits.
“And you killed it.”
Unfortunately, he has to take me back to my seat so they can accept their trophy and talk with the press. I head into my office and grab my bag. I can get through all the paperwork tomorrow. Tonight’s for celebrating.
I head up into the grandstand and wait with Logan’s family while he finishes everything up.
Logan finally comes out and instantly draws me into his arms before telling everyone where to meet for the after-game party, which I’m assuming is going to be massive, I just hope I don’t get drugged at this one.
Logan and I jump into the car and he starts heading toward the Hilton Hotel, in a constant string of comments about the game and how freaking great it was when he turns to me with horror written all over his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, searching his face for any hint of what’s on his mind.
“Louie,” he says. “I forgot to put him back in his cage.”
“What?” I demand as he chucks a U-turn to head back towards his place.
Panic starts to surge up in me knowing Logan tends to forget to close the windows from time to time. Shit. My baby. I hope he is okay.
Logan and I have been living together for the last few weeks and it’s been amazing, the only thing Logan struggles with is having a pet to be responsible for. It’s been a challenge for him which I thought he was getting used to, but apparently not. Though, he had the biggest game of his career to date so I guess I can let him off the hook, as soon as I know Louie is safe.
Hell, Louie is probably flying around the house having the time of his life, swearing at the birds outside.
We turn down his long-ass driveway and I have to hold in my curses as he drives way too slow for my liking. “You better come in too, it’s a big house, he could be anywhere.”
“You think I had any intention of actually staying in the car?” I scoff.
He tries to hold back a grin as he parks the car. We dash up the stairs and I wait impatiently as he searches for the right key on his massive keychain, like seriously? Who the hell needs so many keys?