Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“Wow,” Kozak said beside me, shaking his head. “And you think this kid has real potential to be in the league?”
“Oh, I mean, from there, it was like striking oil. The kid just exploded. Grew six inches in eighteen months. Got into AA hockey, then AAA. Now he’s lighting up the USHL with Madison.”
“That’s insane,” Coach Romanov said.
And Ariana’s smile bloomed, her back straightening again as she leaned forward and chimed in for the first time. “See, this is what I think so many people don’t understand. Having a safe place to lay your head at night, having an actual bed to sleep in… it can change everything. I’ve actually been working closely with—”
But it didn’t matter that all the eyes at the table had shifted to her with interest. In fact, that might have made things worse.
Because Nathan cut her off, patting her hand like she was a child.
“Okay, honey, that’s enough,” he teased, laughing as he looked around the table and shot his associate general manager a wink. Ralph. I didn’t like that guy, either. I didn’t like the slimy way he smiled back like he and Nathan were in on a secret. “No one wants to talk about poor kids without beds when we’re sipping high-dollar wine and eating tiramisu. Oh! Speaking of which, Jared, I know you were wondering about the Marsala recipe. This one, the tiramisu, is actually from my great-great-grandmother. See, when she was little…”
Like nothing had happened, the attention shifted to Nathan, everyone at the table completely oblivious to how he’d shut Ariana down.
I watched her try to blink away her disappointment before she forced a smile and lowered her gaze, swallowing whatever she’d been about to say. Her shoulders curled inward.
And I saw red, my chest tightening along with my fist under the table.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but every instinct I had — every coaching radar, every old muscle memory of knowing her in a way no one else ever had — was screaming at me that something had happened before we arrived.
And for the first time since Nathan Black kicked his way into our team, I didn’t let myself second-guess my gut instincts about him.
This motherfucker was trash, and I was ready to take him out.
Somehow, I kept my cool at the table, biding my time to when I could somehow get Ariana alone. My opportunity came in a way I least expected that had my stomach churning more.
Ariana was still silent next to Nathan, but she was absentmindedly rubbing her wrist, wincing a bit as she rotated it and wiggled her fingers.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“You good, Ariana?” Kozak asked from beside me, nodding to where she was rubbing her wrist.
Her eyes flicked to Nathan so fast I almost missed it.
He was smiling and pleasant, but I saw the flash of warning in his smile.
My stomach dropped through the floor like an anvil.
Oh, God…
No.
No, please, no.
Ariana straightened with a shaky breath and forced a laugh. “Oh, I just aggravated it lifting the chicken out of the oven. I think I’ll grab some ibuprofen. Excuse me a moment.”
She stood, barely brushing the back of Nathan’s chair as she passed.
Her gaze met mine for a split second, just long enough for me to see it: the unspoken plea.
Help.
And then she disappeared down the hall.
“God love her,” Nathan said the moment she was gone, shaking his head with a chuckle. “The woman gets so flustered trying to host these things. I keep telling her she doesn’t have to impress anybody.”
There was another wave of laughter around the table.
My jaw flexed so hard it hurt.
Impress anybody?
She had impressed everyone.
The entire evening was perfect because she’d planned it down to the minute.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was the way he spoke about her like she wasn’t a full person — like she was a prop, an accessory, something to pat on the head and manage.
I took a slow sip of my wine, trying to cool the wildfire in my chest as I bided my time. We all eventually stood, Nathan guiding us to the back patio for a cigar. Ariana still hadn’t returned, but I heard the soft sound of water running from the kitchen.
“I think I’m calling it a night, fellas,” I said, grinning wide and hoping like hell no one could see through me as I shook hands and clapped backs in firm hugs. “Morning skate will come too early.”
“And we all know you’ll be there hours before the first player shows up,” Coach Timberland added fondly.
“You know me well. See you all in the morning.”
I made sure to thank Nathan profusely for the night, inflating his already swollen ego as much as I could before I quietly made my exit. The conversation picked up the moment I turned, Nathan showing off his selection of cigars.