Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Unfucking what they say isn’t my fault when we all know it is.
I’m the one not keeping ginos off the board.
I’m the one failing my job.
Them.
“Go,” grunts Cap, towel being draped over his shoulder. “We’ll cover.”
Knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth is what pushes me out of the locker room and over to the med area where I know the team dentist is stationed during the game just in case they’re needed.
Ya know I don’t think me needing a moment to have my Slayer in my arms is quite what they meant by needed but that doesn’t mean I can’t take full advantage of the open opportunity.
Lord knows I’ve missed her.
While keeping a bit of distance on the road wasn’t easy for me, it was necessary.
The plan wasn’t to silent treatment her into submission.
Like songs in the past two decades, that ain’t my style.
But I was tired of getting peppered.
Kinda like my time on the ice tonight.
The Friendsgiving fiasco acted like a buzzer at the end of a period, and I used our roadskies like a dry stall sesh.
Refresh.
Get some air.
Gain a bit of perspective.
Yeah, I spoke my peace, but I didn’t feel heard.
It was clear we were on some “When Doves Cry” shit.
Creating space allowed me to reprocess some of the things I said that maybe I shouldn’t have said so impulsively – blessin’ and a curse I swear – and it apparently let Gillybean mull over more than what jus’ left my mouth.
I’m grateful for that.
Was it hard not constantly textin’ her songs and pictures and video chattin’?
Hell yeah.
Was it for the best?
Without a doubt.
Pouring my extra focus back into game play and bonding with the boys – something that’s taken bit of a backup song to helpin’ raise Bronny and bein’ with Gilly – was good for me.
Each night I played were shutouts.
And each day were bud outs.
I dragged them to local coffee shops – something I do love about road games – let them drag me to random hobby stores – who is into what is still somewhat surprising – mom and pop restaurants – Wahl really can fucking eat – and spent whatever time was left training both physically and visually.
Reviewing footage is much more crit than some players realize.
Wheaty has definitely started to see the diff in his own performance when he does.
Which is why the night he played on the road, he only let one in instead of the three he’s unfortunately become known for.
My hand winds around the doorknob to enter and an immediate sense of relief can be felt.
I would’ve loved to have seen her this morning, but she didn’t stay the night at our place – er – my place.
She slept at hers under the impresh I was going to be home earlier than I was, meanin’ there was no need to sleep over for Bronny to have adult supervision, yet we were met by weather delays that led us to landing at almost two which was extra rough considering our seven a.m. pracky.
And I would’ve done the crime of being tardy to the party, done the extra laps, crossovers, hammer curls, whatever, except she had an early morning herself that involved performing a hemisection on a patient, a bicuspidization on another, and an online seminar regarding the ethical practices of lab grown teeth all before prepping to fill in for Bull tonight.
She didn’t even have time to grab Bronny from tutoring this afternoon, something he made sure to vocalize his displeasure about like it was my fault the college freshman was more into me than him.
Entering the room should instantly expand the relief I’m feeling, free the frustration from not getting to relish in her sweet presence like they’re the perfect notes on a Teddy Pendergrass album; however due to the sight of the asshole who just kneed me in the shoulder helping himself to a handful of my girlfriend’s ass while she’s bent over retrieving something from the floor, has rage rushing through my veins.
Her squeak of shock – courtesy of being violated – sends me soaring from the door to the table.
Has my fist curling and swinging with the force of a brand-new tractor during the first day of harvest season.
Convinces my other to cut around from the other side.
Clip him in the edge of his jaw.
“Security!” Gilly squawks during my gentle pushing of her frame behind me.
Now, everyone knows, I’m more a lover than a fighter.
More “Footloose” than “Dangerzone”.
But you put your hands on a woman in a way the big DJ in the sky didn’t intend and I can change tuneskies real quick.
You put your hands on my woman in any way that’s disrespectful and I certainly will.
Without a second fucking thought.
“Security!” she calls out from what sounds like a bit further away.