Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Not wanting to hear any of it, I cut him off. “Fuck this.” I mutter it under my breath, but intentionally still loud enough for him to hear. “Bye.”
With that, I walk out into the locker room. There’s at least a dozen guys standing there, eyes wide in shock, having heard every word. Sabine recovers first. “Dom?”
“Apparently, Coach is pretty serious about his ‘no distractions’ rule,” I spit out.
“Probably has something to do with the fact that you’re in love with his daughter,” Kipson offers dryly. I meet his eyes. He warned me. He knew this would happen. And we both know exactly who sold me out. I give him a nod, trusting that he’ll handle things appropriately.
Spying Tomville looking shell-shocked in front of his locker, I point at him. “Team call is five. Be here at three thirty so we can get you ready. You’re debuting in the first line tonight, brother.”
I might not be starting tonight, but I’m not abandoning my team. That’s not the kind of man I am.
I’m supposed to be heading home for my pregame routine of fuel and nap. Instead, I send Briar a text that simply reads: Incoming. Don’t talk to your dad, before driving to her house as fast as I can.
In front of her cute little house, I take a deep breath. This is going to suck. She thought her dad was finally coming around with the zoo thing, especially when he named Hadiah for her. But he hasn’t changed a bit.
Hockey first, last, always, and only.
But I don’t play like that. I don’t live like that.
Well, to be fair, I used to. Hockey has been my priority for my entire life. I have missed school events, birthday parties, family dinners, and more because I was on the ice, for either a practice or a game. But for all I’ve given to hockey, it has given me back an entire life filled with celebrations and sorrows, skills and lessons, teammates and brothers.
The most important thing I’ve learned is: It’s a game. On my deathbed, I will look back on hockey fondly, but what I will want to see and feel and experience again and again is . . . a life with Briar and Harley.
I don’t have to knock. Briar is already opening the door, as though she was listening for my truck. “What’s wrong?” she asks instantly.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, ushering her back into the house. “Sit down,” I tell her, guiding her to the couch.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispers. “Is Dad okay?”
I huff a humorless laugh. “Depends on your definition.” She pales and I quickly say, “Sorry. He’s fine. Just . . . your father.”
I see the moment she understands in real time—her shoulders round, her perpetual smile evaporates to be replaced with a frown, and her eyes cloud over. “He knows about us.”
Nodding, I tell her, “Yep. And he told me that if I want to play hockey, I have to leave you alone.” I shake my head, still not able to believe his bullshit.
“Oh.” Her chin falls to her chest and she fidgets with her fingers. Swallowing thickly, she says hollowly, “I understand. I knew this would happen. Hockey isn’t just what you do. It’s who you are. Hockey first, no distractions.”
I can see every time Coach Boothe told her that. It’s not only a pall over her, but rather, it’s woven through her, in her very DNA. And she apparently thinks I’m just like him.
A leaver.
“What the fuck?” I hiss. “Has a single thing you’ve learned about me given you any indication that I would do that to you? That I would respond well to an ultimatum like that?” I shouldn’t talk to her like that, but I’m pissed that she would think so little of me.
Her eyes lift, hope trying to blossom but being tamped down by her demons. “What?”
“I told him to fuck off,” I snort. “That I’d ride the pine tonight because I wasn’t gonna stop seeing you.”
“What?” she repeats. “You chose me? Why?” She seems legitimately confused by the idea.
My heart breaks for her. She truly thought I was going to choose hockey over her when I would never choose anything over her. She’s my first priority.
I drop to my knees in front of her, cupping her face in my hands and dragging her eyes to mine. Nose to nose, I tell her, “Briar, I love you. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
“You’re not?” she says softly.
I shake my head. “Woman, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to. I’m a teeny bit stubborn, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you. You’re my albatross.”
All the tension that’s been inside me since Coach’s bullshit decree melts away. He can fight this if he wants to, he can punish me, he can yell and scream in useless rage, but Briar and I are a team.