Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I think her words are foolish, but she’s a wonderfully kind human being who is riding high on finding the love her life. So I just smile at her and give her what she needs to hear right now. “Okay. I promise I’ll keep myself open to possibility.”
Chapter 15
Marek
My skin prickles with excitement and my blood sings in recognition of a new hockey season starting. It’s nice to have my body physically react to something other than Gracen.
It’s nice to have something else to keep my mind occupied other than Gracen.
Gray Brannon moves to the podium that sits at the base of the team meeting room. It has stadium-style seating with arced rows. Each seat has a flip-over desktop for us to take notes if necessary. We use this room mostly to review game film, but it’s also for announcements and group discussions. Today’s the first day of training camp, and it always starts off with a welcome speech by our general manager, who happens to be the only female GM in the league.
Each of my teammates sitting in this room probably have their metaphorical tongues hanging out as Gray strides up to the podium, a combination of grace and toughness. She’s a knockout redhead with a slammin’ body, which seems even curvier since she gave birth to her first child in May. If her husband, Ryker Evans, knew what every man was thinking in this room at this moment, he’d be wanting to stomp all our asses. As it is, our esteemed goalie coach just casually watches his wife take the stage front and center, although I don’t miss his eyes dropping to her ass briefly.
Gray puts her hands on the podium and picks up a remote that turns on a projector. A pull-down screen behind her lights up and a four-digit number appears: 1983.
Jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the screen, Gray says, “Nineteen eighty-three. The last time a team has won more than two Stanley Cups in a row.”
She pauses and takes a moment to sweep her gaze slowly across the rows, taking in all of her players who are burning to get back out on the ice and get our third consecutive championship.
Gray clicks the remote control and a new image appears behind her. A low rumble of growls from the players resonate through the room as we take in a screen shot of a recent article that was published in Sports World magazine by one of their senior hockey reporters, Colin Hannity.
The headline reads, WHY THE COLD FURY WILL FAIL THIS YEAR.
Gray grimaces and nods her head. “I see you all have read this scintillating piece of sports journalism.”
More growls.
Someone in the back of the room mutters, “That reporter is a cunt.”
Gray doesn’t even blink over that crudity. She’s in a roomful of testosterone-driven men who play a violent sport. Words like cunt and fuck are dropped repeatedly, and Gray has heard it all. More important, she would never want us to change our language in deference to her being a female, since it’s been a struggle for her to overcome the prejudices she’s faced over the last two seasons since she took on this new role with the organization.
“I want to make Mr. Hannity eat his words,” Gray practically snarls.
There’s a lot of fuck yeah’s in response.
“It won’t be easy,” she continues. “The pressure will be great. The scrutiny will be jaundiced. But I know something that cunt of a reporter doesn’t know.”
Lots of snickers from the players, myself included.
“I know that every person sitting in this room—whether you’re a player, a coach, or staff member—has got a huge, fucking hard-on for that Stanley Cup, and the brass balls to go out there and get it.”
Clapping, affirmative cursing, and banging fists on the desks resound throughout the room. The prickles on my skin intensify.
Gray holds her hands up and motions for us to settle down. The room grows quiet again.
“I’m proud of you,” she says so softly that all traces of her recent vulgarity have been forgotten. She’s speaking from her heart right now. “I’m proud of your spirit. Your determination. Your sheer willingness to claw your way to the top. I’ve got the hardest working people I’ve ever known, and I’m not sure this team could be any more blessed.”
The room is silent and thick with emotion. We all want to continue to make Gray proud of us.
Without a word, Gray steps aside from the podium so Coach Pretore can talk. His speech is low on pep and high on the mechanics of how he’s going to conduct training camp. My muscles are already cramping in anticipation of how bad they’re going to be hurting by the end of the day. No matter how hard I work out in the off-season, nothing can ever keep my muscles conditioned the way they become from hours on the ice. It’s going to be a brutal few weeks coming up, but I’d have it no other way.