Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Preston: How many rules does he have?
Bex: Three
Preston: Have you broken them for anyone else?
Bex: Not for a long time…
Preston: What are they?
Bex: No talking to his players. No hanging out with his players. No dating his players.
Preston: I can guarantee you’ll never break the last one.
Dating is out of the question. I don’t have time for drama. This year is all about winning the Frozen Four again and being drafted into the NHL. I play hockey almost every day, and when I’m not, I work out. If anyone understands a collegiate athlete’s schedule, it’s Bex.
Bex: Yep. That will never happen. All we can ever be is friends.
Preston: I’ve never had a friend who’s a girl.
Bex: That’s because guys like you objectify women.
Preston: Not true.
Bex: Look at the first few messages you sent me and then tell me I’m wrong.
I do as she asks, now realizing my mistake. Instead of a joke, my message reads like a dirty pickup line. I’m surprised she’s even talking to me after what I said. Idiot.
Preston: You’re right. Sorry, Bex. I thought it was funny. Guess not.
Bex: Oh, I thought it was funny. I expect it from you. You’re all the same. This is why my dad has rules. To keep me away from guys like you.
Preston: I don’t want to stay away from you.
I stare at the screen in horror.
Why did I write that?
Because it’s true. I like Bex.
From the second she bumped into me in the locker room, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. Bex must be at a loss for words from my confession. Two minutes pass. Then another five. Still no response.
Shit. What did I just do?
Chapter Seven
BEX
The rink is packed. Not a seat left in the house. Almost everyone in the crowd is dressed in navy and white clothing—the colors of the Strickland Senators. Taylor sips from a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate, cradling it between her hands.
“It’s freezing in here,” she whines. “How can you stand it?”
I glance down at my short-sleeved tee and jeans and shrug. “I’m used to it. The cold doesn’t bother me anymore.”
She snickers. “I’m so cold my nipples are poking a hole through my bra. I could hurt someone with these suckers.”
I shush her, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one can hear her. “Would you lower your voice? You have no filter in public.”
“Who cares? I don’t know anyone here.”
“Yeah, but I do. My dad’s the coach, remember?”
Taylor blows on her hands to warm them. “You’re nervous about tonight. Because of… you know who. I’m with you. It’ll be okay.”
She’s referring to Kellan Lehane. He’s down the ice from us practicing with his team. I haven’t been this close to him since high school. I’ve intentionally skipped the Boston College games for the past three years because of him.
“I’m fine,” I promise, even though I’m ready to jump out of my skin from being in the same building as that animal. “I can handle seeing him after all this time,” I lie. “This game is important to my dad. I didn’t want to miss his first game as head coach.”
I grind my teeth as I’m forced to watch Kellan’s cocky ass skate across the ice. He commits an illegal check without the refs noticing. Asshole. He got away with murder back in high school, and he still does. The sight of him makes me sick to my stomach. So, I do my best to ignore him, pretend he doesn’t exist.
My only saving grace is the line changes. Thank God for those. In hockey, the players skate for short periods of time expelling a lot of energy in a minute or two. Sometimes less. That keeps Kellan off the ice, making it easier to deal with the fact he’s here—back in our hometown.
When he moved to Boston for college, I was relieved. Not having to see him every day provided me some time to heal. Even if my dad didn’t have rules before Kellan came along, I would have made my own. Because I will never repeat the mistakes I made with him. Ever. Not even for someone as hot as Preston Parker.
“Your dad would have understood if you bailed tonight,” Taylor says, in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he knows how hard this is on you.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “I want to be here for moral support. He won’t say it out loud, but I know he’s nervous. I can’t even remember the last time he asked me to come to a game. It seemed like he needed me here.”
“The announcers will rip him a new one if they lose.” She gulps down the last of her hot chocolate and sets the empty cup on the floor next to her foot. “They’re so harsh when it comes to coaches. You saw what they did to Coach Vaughn last year when we lost to Villanova.”