Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“I like you, too,” I reply, my chest tightening. But it isn’t fear that’s making it harder to breathe.
It’s hope.
I shouldn’t be hoping for something like this right now. I’m about to start training camp, and I already have someone gunning for my starter position. I should stay locked in on my comeback.
But for the first time in a long time, hockey doesn’t seem like the only thing worth caring about, and it’s not like I’m a one-trick pony. I can care about more than one thing at a time…
Right?
Hopefully, I’m going to get a chance to find out.
CHAPTER 8
TANK
“Wait what?” Stone freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, his pulled pork and rice momentarily forgotten. “So, you and Stephanie are dating? Exclusively?”
I shrug. “She’s not looking for something casual. Neither am I, so…’
Stone’s blue eyes widen, and his fork remains frozen between his plate and mouth.
“What?” I finally ask, casting a pointed glance at his utensil.
He sets it back on his plate, clearing his throat as he lifts his hands at his sides. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t… I thought you were…” He lets out an awkward laugh. “I mean, Stephanie’s just so upbeat, so happy and sweet and always looking on the bright side. And you’re…”
I scowl hard enough to make the backs of my eyes ache a little.
Stone motions to my face with one of his golden-boy grins. “Exactly.”
I grunt and force my features to relax.
“But that’s okay,” Stone says, reclaiming his fork with a chuckle. “Not everyone likes fun.”
“I like fun,” I say, taking a pull on my beer before setting it back on the table with a thud. We’re at Healani’s, the Hawaiian-themed sports bar not far from the practice facility. It’s Monday night and it’s dead—exactly the way I like it. I’d rather have my asshole bleached than step foot in here on karaoke night or during football season.
Maybe I do hate fun…
But Stephanie doesn’t seem to mind.
“We have a good time together.” I snag a fry from my nearly-empty plate. Unlike Stone, I was raised in a home where dinner wasn’t always a given, and I wolf down my food accordingly. “I took her to the food trucks in the art district on Friday, and we grabbed smoothies yesterday after my private yoga class.”
Stone waggles his brows suggestively. “Well, well… So, you’re taking private classes now, huh? And how’s that?”
“It’s good,” I say, refusing to rise to the bait.
He smirks. “I bet it is.”
“Shut up, asshole. I’m taking care of my health.”
He snorts. “Oh yeah? Is that what they’re calling it these days? Just be sure you take care of her health first. A gentleman always does.”
“Say another word about her ‘health,’ and I’ll have to punch you,” I say, making Stone chuckle again. I wait for him to stop giggling. When he doesn’t, I add, “I’m not kidding. And it’ll be in the face. Not the abs. No amount of gut clenching will save you.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” he says, popping a giant bite of rice and pork into his mouth and talking around it. “You’re cute when you’re falling in love. Violent, but cute.”
I bristle, my jaw going tight as I reach for my beer again. “We’ve been on two dates. Don’t be stupid.”
But I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince—Stone or myself. I know it’s way too soon to have real feelings, but I also know I haven’t felt anything like what I feel when I’m with Steph in a long time.
“And I didn’t tell you so you could fuck with me, dickhead,” I add. “I was hoping you might actually have some advice.”
“Sorry, brother,” he says, making a visible effort to stop giggling and smirking. “What kind of advice are you looking for?”
I reach for another fry, avoiding eye contact as I mutter, “I don’t know. Any kind, I guess. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a long time. And I realized last night when I got home, that I…” I pull in breath, pushing through the discomfort tightening my chest. Stone knows all about my checkered past, and he’s never judged. He’s one of the few friends from my early days in the NHL who stood by me, even when I probably didn’t deserve his loyalty.
It’s one of the reasons I put up with his shit.
He certainly put up with mine.
“I’ve never dated anyone sober,” I continue in a softer voice. “Even before the pills became a problem, I was always high when I hung out with girls in high school and in the minors. I’ve never dated anyone seriously as an adult, either. I mean, I guess twenty-four is technically an adult, but I sure as hell didn’t act like one back then.”
His brows lift as he gives a slow nod. “Ah, got it. Yeah, I can see how that might feel intimidating.”