Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Post Hennington’s exit, everyone finishes gearing up for the tunnel walk.
Tanner “Snowman” Frosky, our alternate captain and undoubtedly one of the only players I’m remotely close to, positions himself on the opposite side of the line from me, ready to hype up our teammates as they prepare to hit the ice.
Warmies music suddenly begins prompting the waiting crowd to cheer with enthusiasm and excitement as the boys head towards the arena. After Peck takes the traditional Rookie lap, the rest of the boys hit the ice one by one. Frosky and I pound knuckles, tap elbows, and knock buckets with every member before turning to each other to slap palms twice and cross shoulder bump on a loud “ra”.
He skates ahead of me so that I can take the traditional role of last on, last off.
My packed barn welcome is almost deafening, which is impressive over the music. Rather than concern myself with the thousands of flashes coming from the crowd or even who we’re up against for the night, I focus on the job ahead.
The sixty hard miles.
How many times we need to pull the trigger.
Starting.
Now.
One single warmup lap around our zone is followed by an aggressive skate towards the practice pucks. Winding my frame to exude full strength precedes the slap that sends the biscuit soaring into the empty net with enough force to be labeled a bottle rocket.
You know.
If the tendy actually had his bottle back there.
Subsequently, I glide over to our bench where an unexpected sight has my jaw dropping to the freshly carved ice. “What in the f-”
“Tiny ears, tiny words,” Joey immediately fusses while adjusting a pigtailed Bella on her hip.
Frustration has me twitching her a glare; however, her command successfully stops me from swearing.
“Impressive,” Mom sassily coos from beside her, shit eating grin only growing more so.
“Da,” Father chuckles, large arms folded across his Dalvegan Dragons jersey covered chest.
Thankfully, my daughter’s excitement rescues me from having to deal with their unspoken skepticism. “Daddddyyy!!!!”
“Prinnncccess!” I joyfully state back leaning over to plant a kiss on her forehead. “What are you doing here?!”
“It’s tradition like the rookie skate!” Kel-C, our lead social media manager for the team, announces from over Joey’s shoulder, redirecting my stare up to her. “The season’s captain,” her fair skinned palm gestures my direction, “is to have his family sit on the bench for warmies of the first home game of the season. Typically, we fly them in, put them up at The Frost for a night or two, and arrange a little team meet and greet – just like we do for The Rookie’s family for his first game – but since your parents live here and your daughter is very involved with the team-”
“I’mma be a ice girl!” Bella unexpectedly exclaims. “Kel-Z got me pom poms!”
“I sure did!” Girlish giggles are wedged between statements. “Like I was saying, the GM decided to give them all matching sweaters as well as complimentary seat service instead of the usual out-of-town treatment like Peck’s guests are receiving. She’s now coined this little combo of activities the ‘in town treatment’.”
“And I’m going to take full advantage of that,” Father announces on another round of chortles, accent a little thicker than before. “Vodka all night!”
“They stop serving alcohol in the third,” Mom promptly reminds.
“While yes, this is a Swiftys level marketing stunt,” Kel-C states, rightfully ignoring my parents, “it’s really about family.” Her fingers fold together in the front of her bright, sparkling green dress pants. “The GM wants you to remember that because you take care of her family on the ice, she will take care of your family off it.”
A mixture of awe and anxiety fuse together in my chest.
Great.
She’s delivering loyalty, and I’m delivering lies.
Come on, opening night.
How else are you gonna get worse?!
“Let me get Hoss and a camera guy over here for footage really quick,” Kel-C insists prior to scurrying off a short distance.
“Look, Daddy! Look, Daddy!” Bella squeals while excitedly tapping her cheek. “I have number!”
Seeing my number printed on her cheek momentarily washes away the trepidation dripping down the back of throat. “That’s my number!”
“That what I said,” she dramatically sighs before pointing. “Babu and Dedu have too!”
My eyes cut over just as they motion to their faces simultaneously.
Disbelief has my tone airier than I intend, “Why?”
“It was Nanny Joey’s idea,” Mom informs, mischief undeniably dancing around her expression. “She’s got a lot of those. I’m sure it’s one of the many, many reasons why you hired her.”
Fuck…does she know?
The menacing grin that begins to spread answers my question.
Yup.
She knows.
Next question is how long is she gonna keep that information to herself.
I dart my attention back over to the woman who’s sporting matching hairstyles with my daughter to lock gazes. “I thought it would be a fun way for your family to show their solidarity and support.” Her wide, freckled nose scrunches in an adorable nature. “Plus, I used finding the fake tattoos in the pile as a numbers recognition activity for Bella further proving to the world learning is fun.”