Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
But not me. Not Griffin Mahoney.
Dom stares at me, his eyes hard and his jaw set. “You’re not just fucking around with her?” he demands, the question accusatory.
I tilt my head, glaring at him, and he glares right back, waiting for an answer expectantly. “Well, I do want to fuck her.”
His fist balls, and his jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscles bulge at the corners where I never can shave right on the first pass. “I’m gonna kick your ass again.”
“Fair warning,” I tell him, my own fist balling, “this time I’ll fight back. The passive shit is over.”
That brings him up short, and I can almost see him replaying the fight on the ice and the one at Penny’s. “You didn’t fight back,” he echoes, stunned. “Not until she accidentally fell while trying to ride me like a bucking bronco. Why not?”
I shrug. “It needed to happen. I deserved it.”
“Holy shit, man. You are such an asshole.” He huffs, shaking his head like he didn’t already know that. Like he hasn’t always known that. “You’ve actually been pining away for her all these years? Like some lovesick puppy?” A hint of a smile teases at his lips.
He’s laughing at me. Normally, I’d tell him to fuck off, but he has a point. “Woof, woof,” I deadpan, sounding as pathetic as I am. But he deserves an answer, a real one. “Seriously, I do want to fuck her—” I admit playfully, and once Dominic’s brows lift the way I knew they would, I add, “And love her, take care of her, see her succeed. I want to have babies with her and grow old with her. I want a life with her.” I blink dumbfoundedly, shocked at my own rambling. Dominic seems just as surprised. “I never listed it out like that, but yeah, I want everything with her. I want what your folks have. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.”
He nods slowly, and I watch as he swallows hard. “Okay. I hope you haven’t screwed things up too badly, then.” He shows me his crossed fingers and twists his lips like he totally thinks I have.
It takes a second to register what he’s said. It’s his version of acceptance. “That’s it?” I ask, throwing my hands wide. “Yesterday you’re beating the shit out of me, and now you’re just all ‘good luck with that’?”
He grins evilly. “Hey, if you want to take that on, she’s your problem now.” He stretches his arms wide like he’s flying free for the first time in his life. “Wow, that feels good. If she blows something up, that’s you. If she breaks a leg, that’s you too. If she ends up with a stolen ring from a Mob boss”—he leans my way and gleefully informs me—“you.”
He has a point. Penny might be the death of me, literally, but she’s the only woman I’d plead with a Mob boss for. Hell, she’s the only woman I’d do lots of things for.
“I told her I’d be back after my meeting with Coach. You coming with?” Dom asks.
And like that, we’re okay. Or at least some version of it. Still, I say, “I’m sorry, Dom. I didn’t mean to blindside you with it, especially not mid-game.” I push my jaw left and right, rubbing it to show that it’s still sore from his punches.
But that’s not what he questions. Instead, he looks at my nose and the raccoon eyes I’m sporting right now. “Your nose okay?”
I inhale, showing him it works, which is all that matters. We’re hockey players, not fashion models. “As okay as it ever was,” I answer with a shrug. “I set it last night, trainer looked at it before we talked with Coach. Little lidocaine cream, and it is what it is.”
Honestly, his punches aren’t what hurt the most. It was his words, which is always the case. The verbal beatdowns from my parents are what still echo in my head, much more than any ache or pain from a fist. Which reminds me that I have some deeply, brutally honest apologies to make to Penny to rewrite some of the things I’ve said to her over the years. Never anything as hurtful as my parents, but enough that she’s not sure about me yet. But she will be.
“You deserved it.” He huffs, frowning. “But I’m sorry too. I didn’t know how you felt and thought you were doing the puck bunny thing with my baby sister. That wouldn’t be cool, man.”
“I know. Trust me, I’m not doing that.”
“All right, then, let’s go see what Penny-Nickel-Dime has gotten herself into now,” Dom says, shaking his head, because truthfully, even within the confines of her apartment, there’s no telling. “Whatever it is, it’s on . . . you.”
I roll my eyes. I think he’s going to get a lot of mileage out of that one. “I can handle it.”