Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The lights in the arena dim slightly, and the hum of the crowd rises. The announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, calling out the players’ names as they skate onto the ice. My heart kicks into overdrive when Bridger’s name is announced. He glides out with an easy confidence, his movements fluid and precise.
And then, as if he knows I’m here, he glances up into the stands. He can’t possibly see me amidst the crowd, but for a fleeting second, it feels like his gaze locks on mine. A warmth envelops me, and a smile tugs at my lips.
The puck drops, and the game begins.
The arena comes alive, the roar of the crowd like a living, breathing thing that surges and swells with every play. I cheer louder than I ever have before, my voice mingling with the cheers and shouts around me. My eyes stay glued to Bridger as he commands the ice, blocking shots, making passes, and keeping the team in control. Every time the announcer calls his name, an undeniable sense of pride fills me.
He’s incredible.
Strong, determined, relentless.
And mine.
As the game unfolds, it’s no longer just about the Wildcats.
I’m not just cheering for the team.
I’m cheering for him.
The guy who’s always held a piece of my heart.
40
Bridger
Slap Shotz is packed to the brim when we walk through the door. The air is thick with the buzz of celebration and the tang of beer. We’re heading to the Frozen Four, and judging by the charged atmosphere in the bar, the whole town is riding high from the excitement.
I’ve got Holland tucked under my arm, and despite the chaos surrounding us, my attention keeps drifting to her. She laughs with Willow and the rest of the girls. Her eyes are bright and there’s a smirk curving her lips.
It’s a sight I’ll never get tired of.
“Bridger,” a voice interrupts, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I glance up to see Garret approaching. His hands are jammed into his pockets and his shoulders are hunched. Uncertainty is etched across his face as his gaze darts between us.
“Holland,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
She stiffens slightly as she nods.
“I just…” He exhales heavily, glancing at the floor before meeting her gaze. “I want to apologize for putting you in the position I did. Lying to Bridger, making you cover for me, dragging you into the messages. All of it. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry.”
Holland studies him for a long moment as his apology lingers in the air. Just when I think she’ll tell him to go fuck himself, she surprises me by reaching out and touching his arm.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her tone steady. “I appreciate it. And I get it—you were hurting. But next time, maybe don’t burn everything down around you to deal with it, okay?”
A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escapes him as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Lesson learned.”
“Good.” Her tone is resolute but not unkind. When her gaze meets mine, there’s something in it that makes my breath catch.
Trust.
“All right,” Garret says, shifting awkwardly. “I’m gonna grab a drink.”
“Hey,” I call after him. It’s only when he stops, glancing back over his shoulder to meet my gaze that I say, “You’re good, man. We’re good.”
His expression softens as he nods, and without another word, he disappears into the crowd.
Holland leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder. “I like this version of you.”
“Yeah?” I tighten my arm around her, savoring the warmth of her against my side. “What version is that?”
“The one who forgives,” she says, her lips curving into a small smile as she tips her face up to meet mine. “It’s kind of hot.”
I smirk, lowering my head so our foreheads nearly touch. “Only kind of?”
Her chuckle is soft, her breath warm against my skin. “Don’t push your luck, Sanderson.”
Around us, laughter and conversation fill the space, but there’s something different in the air tonight. Something that feels more final. Not in a bad way, just in the way things shift when one chapter comes to an end and another one begins.
Ryder stands beside Juliette, his arm slung around her shoulders, his fingers absently playing with the ends of her hair. Ford and Carina are close by, hands clasped together, their eyes locked like they’re in their own private world. Stella leans into Riggs, their grins matching as she whispers something in his ear. Viola nudges Madden playfully, her teasing met with a low chuckle as he pulls her against him.
Fallyn and Wolf are wrapped up in each other, her fingers resting lightly on his chest as he watches her as if she’s the only person in the room. The only one he sees. Colby and Britt share a quiet moment, their hands linked, their smiles easy. Maverick tugs Willow closer, his lips pressing to her temple like he still can’t believe she’s his.