Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
And Ava and Hayes?
They stand side by side, no grand gestures, just a quiet, undeniable certainty between them.
Out of everyone, their relationship is probably the biggest surprise of all.
The nine of us met as incoming freshmen, grew into men over the years, and found love stories none of us expected. Now, we’re moving forward, each on our own path, ready to tackle whatever comes next.
One thing is for certain—no matter where life takes us, we’ve found something rare, something unshakable.
We started as teammates.
Now, we’re family.
Not by blood but by choice. The kind of family you build and hold on to because they’re the ones who truly matter.
My gaze shifts to Sully, the owner of Slap Shotz, when he hauls himself onto the small stage in the corner, his burly frame and booming voice instantly commanding everyone’s attention. He raises his arms, palms out, and his deep voice cuts through the chatter like a knife.
“Hey!” Sully shouts, his grin as wide as the room itself. “Quiet down, you rowdy bunch, and listen up!”
The bar falls into a semi-silence, with only a few murmurs trailing off as all eyes turn to the stage. Sully points a finger toward our team, his expression full of pride.
“I couldn’t be prouder of these guys and the season they’ve had. But let’s get one thing straight—it ain’t over yet, is it?”
The room erupts into cheers and whistles, the energy palpable. A grin tugs at my lips as Sully raises his hands again, motioning for everyone to settle.
“That’s right! We’ve got a Frozen Four trophy to bring back to this town!” His voice grows louder, more animated. “But tonight? Tonight, we celebrate! So, who’s gonna kick things off with some karaoke?”
The crowd roars in response, and my grin widens as Sully leans into the mic. “Come on! Don’t be shy now!”
There’s only one thing left to do to make this night complete.
Adrenaline hums through my veins, drowning out any nerves as I weave through the packed bar toward the stage.
“Bridger, what the hell are you doing?” Holland hisses, grabbing for my hand.
I glance over my shoulder with a smirk. Her wide eyes lock on mine, a mixture of amusement and panic in her expression. “Showing you—and everyone else—exactly how I feel.”
Her mouth opens, but no words come out, as I pull away and hop up onto the stage. Sully claps me on the back with a hearty laugh.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” he says, handing me the mic. “What’ll it be, Sanderson?”
I lean in and whisper the song choice. His brows shoot up and then his grin returns, wider than ever. “You got it.”
The moment the first notes of “Everything” by Michael Bublé fill the bar, a concoction of nerves and adrenaline surges through me. It’s not like I’m afraid of a crowd. I’ve played in front of packed arenas, for fuck’s sake. But this is different.
This isn’t a game.
This is me, standing under dim stage lights, gripping a mic, and putting my feelings out there in the open.
I scan the crowd until I find Holland. She’s frozen in place, her gaze pinned to me, lips parted in surprise. I smirk, letting the confidence settle over me as I ease into the song.
My voice is steady, but inside, my heart pounds against my ribs. I watch as Holland’s hand flies to her mouth, her cheeks flushing. The noise of the bar dulls around me and everything fades until there’s just her.
The girl who drives me crazy.
The very same one I can’t stay away from.
The girl I’m probably half in love with already.
This one’s for her.
And only her.
When the final notes drift off and the bar explodes into applause, I set the mic down and hop off the stage without hesitation. My sole focus is closing the distance between us. My feet barely touch the floor as I stride toward her.
She’s still standing, cheeks flushed, her lips parted in surprise. The second I reach her, she buries her face in my chest and her arms wind around my waist.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against my shirt.
I rest my chin on the top of her head and press a kiss against her hair. “No, baby. Thank you. For being mine.”
Her arms tighten, and in that moment, surrounded by the riot of celebration, there’s nothing but us.
Across the room, I spot Steele at the bar, his broad shoulders tense as he leans in toward the girl who has always been his best friend. Lilah’s eyes are narrowed as she glares at him. If I had to guess, I’d say he just scared off the guy who was flirting with her earlier.
I chuckle under my breath and lean into Holland, brushing my lips against her ear. “Think she’ll ever figure out his feelings go way beyond friendship?”
Holland’s gaze follows mine, her brow arching as she watches Lilah jab a finger at Steele’s chest, her frustration clear.