Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Fuck my life.
I could literally feel my nerves fraying at the seams as I read the nutritional information on the side of the box. Calories, fats, carbohydrates, proteins.
I wished I were high, numb, floating in a subspace where the weight of expectation and disappointment didn’t feel quite so heavy.
After a few minutes of placating uh-huhs and yes, ma’ams, I redirected the conversation to a hugely exaggerated retelling of my goal against Granville two nights ago. In actuality, I’d scored three minutes into the first period in a game that we’d ended up winning five to one and not at the last possible moment of a nail-biter that had rivaled a few Stanley Cup classics. But my version was funnier.
My mom was a sucker for a good story, and she’d always said I was good at spinnin’ a yarn and tellin’ tall tales, so she no doubt knew half the shit coming out of my mouth was nonsense. But she’d made her point, gotten in her digs, and was happy to play along, allowing me to reset the balance between us. It was exhausting and not gonna lie, a little soul-crushing.
Note to self: Do not take calls from Mom at Bear Market ever fucking again. Especially while talking to a hot guy.
Second note: Apply the Gus rule ASAP—an effective coping mechanism to be adhered to whenever life felt bleak and oppressive.
I typed the text without thinking twice and blasted it to my teammates.
Party at my place tonight. Tell everyone.
CHAPTER 3
GUS
Rafe was pissed.
It was a bummer too, ’cause it spoiled his initial reaction to the oodles of groceries I’d bought with him in mind. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell him about the cute skater guy I’d bumped into at the market. I’d gone from hero to zero in seconds flat. Rafe hadn’t given me a chance to defend myself, either. He’d grabbed his backpack and huffed something about finding someplace else to hang out tonight.
“Wait up. This is your house, too. Of course, you’re invited.”
“Gee, that’s big of you. Thanks, Gus,” he’d growled.
Yeah, I caught the sarcasm. I wished I could claim ignorance, but I’d gotten the message. Rafe didn’t like to party, and I should have asked if it was cool rather than springing a houseful of guests on him. I had to do better, be better.
Tomorrow.
Tonight, I could hardly see straight.
I was numb, exactly the way I wanted to be. Loud music vied with competing conversations and manic laughter. We had a strict no-smoking-in-the-house rule, but somehow the air had a hazy glow. I chose to believe the side door was open in the kitchen. I didn’t want to have to get cranky with my teammates. Although, to be honest, I didn’t recognize some of these people. Like that couple sucking face under the stairwell.
“Who’re they?” I yelled, clinking my beer bottle to Ty’s and angling my chin meaningfully.
Ty kept his arm around Walker’s shoulders as he craned his neck. “No clue.”
“Me either,” Walker added. “This is a rowdier crowd than usual…with a lot of strangers. I hope you closed your bedroom doors.”
Walker was cute and feisty, too. He and Ty fit. They were opposites, but they complemented each other.
Ty was a beast on the ice, fierce and fucking feral at times. He was tall with brown hair, lots of muscle, and copious tats while Walker was a willowy redhead who’d made a career out of telling the rest of the world how cool Smithton was on his online show, What’s New, Smithton?
“You think they’re gonna steal from me?” I snickered at the idea, narrowing my eyes when they began to feel too heavy.
“No, I think they’re going to have sex in your bed.”
“No fuckin’ way.” I threw my head back and laughed. “Who would do that?”
Ty and Walker shared one of those knowing looks that always made me jealous. I’d never had that with anyone. I mean…I didn’t want that now, but it was cool. The funny thing was that they were a new couple. And though he didn’t say so, I had a feeling Walker’s appearance here tonight was a statement. They were official, and anyone who didn’t like it could fuck off.
No one cared. Not that I could tell, anyway.
Then again, I’d been a little out of it all night. I hoped my brain was okay ’cause damn, it was so foggy. Like my synapses weren’t firing properly. Alarming? I couldn’t tell. I’d had too much to drink for sure. And smoke. And I was tired. Bone tired, but I also knew it would take me hours to wind down enough to sleep.
Fuck, I was turning into a vampire. Probably not a great look for me. Black wasn’t my color unless I was wearing blue jeans, and blood was gross and—
Walker waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you okay, Gus?”