Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I fist-pump my hand at my side as the bench explodes with excitement and cheers.
“About bloody time,” I mutter, and Willy smirks at me.
“Gotta believe, Coach,” he throws at me, and then he makes a face. “So, no wonder you gave me your phone. It won’t stop going off.”
I whip my gaze to him. Is she getting off again? It doesn’t matter, you eejit! You’ve got work to do!
This girl is a problem.
One I shouldn’t be enjoying, but I am.
“A wee little lass, wanting all your attention?”
I glare at my friend, who came with me to the team. “Shut it.”
He snorts but doesn’t push me. He’s not a dick like Cruz. Probably because he was around when my marriage ended. Great. Now, I’m thinking of the past.
I hate thinking.
I force myself to look out at center ice. I’m jittery and not feeling like myself. I don’t like this feeling at all. I reach into my pocket and bring out my Bubble Yum gum. I open two pieces and stuff them into my mouth. The flavor is disgusting and sweet, but it distracts me from wanting to tackle Willy for my phone. I gotta turn that camera off. I can’t allow myself to be tempted like this. While I feel guilty about what I saw, I can’t help but think she did it on purpose. Not that she knew the camera was in there, but to leave her scent in my room. I have absolutely no clue what the hell to do with that, but fuck, if I don’t want to do something.
Something that starts with me between her legs and my name being screamed from her gorgeous lips.
This is bad. So fucking bad.
When one of the Griffins passes up to a fucking cherry-picking motherfucker at the line, I yell out. “He’s offsides!”
But before I can even get the whole sentence out, he scores.
Fuck.
I jump over the bench, using two players’ shoulders for balance before I almost launch myself over the fucking boards. I throw my hands up. “Ref! Are you fucking kidding me? Are you blind? He was offsides a fucking mile!”
The ref ignores me as my assistant coach Willy looks at the tape. “Aye! Aye! Ref!”
The ref still ignores me because he knows good and well, he’s a fucking eejit!
“Yup, offsides,” Willy calls to me, but I already knew that.
“Challenge! Aye! Aye! Challenge, Ref!”
Finally, the bastard stops ignoring me and skates over, annoyed. “I hear you.”
“Then fucking acknowledge me, huh?”
Once more, he ignores me as he calls for a coach’s challenge, and play stops. Cruz comes skating to the bench, leaning on it beside me. I tap his helmet. “Good job, Cruz.”
“Thanks, Coach.” He eyes me, that goofy smile on his face, and I glare back at him.
“What, Cruz?”
“You seem a little keyed up.”
“I want to fucking win,” I sneer, and he grins.
“That’s a done deal. What’s really wrong?”
I give him a dark look. “Does it look like the time to talk about anything but hockey, Cruz? Why do you always bug the shit out of me?”
He tickles my beard, the freaking eejit. “Because you’re so cute to tease.” I smack his hand away, and he only grins. “Talk to Clara?”
I glare, unable to control the thoughts swirling in my mind. Does he know? That I like her? That I saw her come? Shit. “What’s it to ya?”
His grin widens. “Just curious if she’s working well for you. I did knock up her sister, so I do care for her.”
My jaw tightens, and I feel my molars starting to crack. I don’t know if I’m pissed about the call, pissed that he wants to know about Clara, or pissed that he has the right to care because she’s his future sister-in-law. Actually, I’m pissed about everything.
Most of all, that she came in my bed.
Alone.
“Go to your net, Cruz,” I bite out, and he shoots me a cheesy grin.
“Aw, it’s okay to have feelings. Share them with me.”
“Go, Cruz.”
His laughter trails behind him to his net, and I swear I crack a tooth.
But the goal is called back because the Griffins were offsides.
And we end up winning the game.
Which is good since I know how to win hockey games. But the game of Clara McDavid?
Yeah, that’s another story.
CHAPTER 12
Clara
Me: I got lost in the woods.
Riggs: What in the hell? How?
Me: I don’t know. I was on the trail during my run, and then I got off it. Thankfully, Gretzky and Gordie knew where to go. Darcy and I were as lost as last year’s Easter eggs.
Riggs: JFC. Be careful out there. Don’t go trailing too deep. Actually, stay on the road. It’s four miles to the stop sign at the turn to my house.
Me: I’m honored you think I can run eight miles.
Riggs: You can’t? Maybe if you ate more, you could.