Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I might not be going pro, but there’s no doubt about it. My future involves hockey in some capacity.
Knowing that makes the successes bigger, the losses more gut-wrenching, and that’s only in preseason.
I’ve already got half my plan in place. I organized more classes with my advisor, and even though it’s going to be an insane schedule to fit it all in before I graduate, I have to take my shot. I have to try.
The only thing I haven’t tried to do yet is tell Jacobs about it, and that’s because I’m scared he’ll think my idea is dumb. I also don’t know where this idea will lead me or what it will mean for us next year.
We haven’t talked about a definite future, but I know he wants to be close to his family, and they’re two hours away.
Every time I try to bring it up, I chicken out and swallow his dick instead.
I’m not sure if he’s noticed my distraction or not, but he sure as shit isn’t complaining.
The team gets cocky when we win the traditional pre-preseason game against the University of Vermont. In the past, that’s worked as a good-luck charm. Anytime the team has beaten UVM in that game, we’d make it to the Frozen Four.
That is until last year, when we smashed that theory out of the water by losing the first game in terrible fashion but taking out the championships anyway.
Jacobs and I have had a full-time job reeling in the team and telling them that just because we won, that doesn’t mean we can become complacent. Especially when we lost half our official preseason games.
We need to work our asses off, and I’m working doubly hard with the extra classes I’ve picked up.
Tonight’s our first official game for the season, and even though it’s a tight match and we’re down by one goal, the buzz under my skin doesn’t let me dwell on it. I may be exhausted and skating on fumes, but the craving I have for the W puts me in the right headspace. It makes me focused.
I was secretly worried Jacobs and my animosity was the reason we worked well on the ice and that changing our dynamic off the ice would mess with that, but it’s only better.
We’re more of a team.
We’re more in sync.
We have that thing that he used to have with Grant where they could sense each other and know where to send the puck instinctually.
Everything is better when we get along, but that doesn’t stop me from taunting him. Because nothing beats that spark between us when we’re sniping at each other.
“Hey, honey? See the net? Yeah, it would help if you shoot the puck inside of it. Outside doesn’t count, ’kay?” I smack his ass as I skate past him and get in the team box.
“You’ll pay for that later,” he says as he takes his spot next to me.
I’m counting on it.
Our guys get a shot on goal, and we all jump out of our seats.
Simms puts one through the goalie’s legs, bringing the score up to 3-3.
I lean in close to Jacobs. “If you sink this next one, I’ll let you sink one in me later.” I wink.
He groans. “Sometimes I hate you. I can’t be thinking about that right now.”
“Good. Hold on to that and take it out on me after the game.”
He snorts.
“Only if you get this next shot.”
“Otherwise you’ll hold out on me?”
That would only torture both of us. So not going to do that. “Yup,” I bluff.
And he buys it.
New determination flashes in his eyes, and as soon as our skates hit the ice again, he’s a man on a mission.
He sinks the puck in just over a minute.
We crowd him with hugs, but I can’t help laughing.
“Let’s hope it’s not that quick later,” I mutter to him.
“It won’t be.” He leans in closer. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.”
My skates wobble as my knees try to fall from beneath me. That kind of promise would’ve scared me not that long ago, but now I want to call the end of the game so we can get out of here.
When I was a kid and Baby and I would play together, I’d always try to quit while I was ahead so I could say “I win.”
I’d really appreciate it right now if we could do that.
We’re winning. All we have to do is run out the clock.
But I want to go now.
I want Jacobs’s dick inside me.
The buzzer can’t come soon enough. And when it does and we take out the win, Jacobs and I are first in the showers and first out the doors, telling the guys we’ll meet up with them for celebratory drinks later.
I think they all know we will not meet up with them later.