Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Oh, wow. You really like this guy.”
I continue beating my eggs in a bowl. “It was just a first date, but I enjoy what I know so far and want to get to know him more.” Anthony is the first person to make me want to ask someone on a date in too long.
“Hot?” Court asks.
I picture him, his lean but muscular dancer’s body, his face that’s pretty in such a soft way, the dimple he gets when he grins. “So fucking hot,” I reply, making her laugh.
We talk until my breakfast is done. “I should go. I need to eat and get ready to head out.”
“Okay. Good luck with Anthony. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll snatch you up.”
My stomach gets slightly twisty. “I’m not saying I’m ready to be snatched up. Just…interested.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay, little bro. Talk soon. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I end the call and go straight to my texts, pulling up my exchange with Anthony.
Me: Want to come to a hockey practice?
Anthony: Sure. I’m always up for a challenge.
Me: I believe that about you.
Anthony: Looks like I have you fooled. *wink emoji*
I walk past the floor-to-ceiling living-room windows, to my room.
Me: I doubt that. I think there’s more to you than most people take the time to see.
I toss my phone on the bed, turn on the shower, and strip before I pick it up again.
No reply.
He could be busy, of course. It’s early, and I’m sure Anthony has better things to do than sit around and wait for my messages so he can answer right away, so I jump in the shower, then brush my teeth before I check again.
Anthony: I’m stuck between being humble and telling you you’re just very kind and looking for the good in people, and telling you that yes, I’m really fucking good and thank you for noticing.
I bark out an unexpected laugh.
Me: You’re so fucking cute.
Anthony: Agreed and thank you. Having a friend tell you all the ways you’re amazing isn’t a bad way to start the morning.
Me: Guess I’ll have to do it more often.
Anthony: I should probably tell you you’re pretty fucking amazing too.
Me: Agreed.
This time, I’m the one adding the wink emoji.
Anthony: Cocky Kason is back.
Me: Cocky Kason never left. I’m just…more than one thing. I’m also going to be late for practice if I don’t get my ass in gear, so I better go. Talk soon.
Anthony: Talk soon.
I’m maybe a little more excited about that than I should be.
CHAPTER FOUR
Anthony
I love the environment at the arena. It’s loud, passionate, and everything in between. The floor feels like it vibrates with each and every cheer, making my heart jump up and down inside my chest.
Hayes is on my left, Donovan on my right. When they found out I was coming, Rylan got seats for them too, the three of us so close to the action that I almost feel like I’m out there with the team.
Rylan’s line is on the ice. He’s the right defenseman for the Rebels and currently battling one of Seattle’s wingers for the puck. Rylan slams him into the boards, Hayes’s hand slapping down on my thigh and squeezing with maybe a little too much intensity.
“Ouch. Shit.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry! More apologies later!” he says, not taking his eyes off Rylan as he keeps fighting for the puck. From what Hayes has said, he hated hockey before he started dating Rylan—and not just because he’d been at a hockey game when he’d proposed to Malcolm, gone viral, and all our lives had never been the same. But now? Now he might be hockey’s biggest fan. He’s at least Rylan Pierce’s biggest fan, which I can totally understand.
Rylan gets the puck from Seattle and takes off down the ice. He sends a fast tape-to-tape pass toward Volkov, who immediately takes a shot on goal, the puck flying over Seattle’s goalie’s right shoulder. The crowd goes wild, all of us on our feet when the lamp lights up.
“Hell yes! Good job, baby!” Hayes shouts as Rylan skates toward the bench, pointing his stick at Hayes, which is maybe one of the most romantic things I’ve ever seen.
Between Rylan and Hayes and Donovan and Eric, I’m surrounded by romance—the real thing—something I haven’t seen much of in my life. I’m happy for them, and it makes me feel mushy inside. For those who want love, it seems pretty great.
“So how did you end up with Mads getting you a ticket for the game?” Donovan asks during the first intermission, where the Rebels are up one to zero.
“We went out to dinner the other night, and he asked me if I wanted to come.”
“What?” Hayes practically gasps.
“What, what?” I ask.
“You know what,” Donovan says. “You didn’t tell us you went on a date with Mads.”