Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
A soft smile touched his lips, then faded.
“And then, when I was fifteen, I made it to the OHL. It was a big deal. That’s where I met Coach Leduc.”
He said the name like it was venom in his mouth.
“That man was the opposite of any adult I’d ever come into contact with. While my parents were docile and quiet, he was barking at me within minutes of meeting him. He towered over all of us — nearly seven-feet tall, absolute giant. He didn’t smile when he met me. I discovered real quick that he never smiled at all.
“At first, it was fine. Tough love, sure, but I could handle that. But then the yelling started. The threats. The mind games. ‘If you don’t want it bad enough, there’s ten other kids gearing for your spot on the team who do.’ ‘You think you’re talented? You’re soft. You’ll never make it.’ Every mistake was personal. Every missed pass, every bad shift — it was never just a mistake. It was proof I didn’t belong.”
My chest pulled tight. Carter was still staring into the fire, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twisted in his lap. I’d never seen him like that.
“It got worse the older we got,” he continued. “Leduc loved to pick favorites. He’d pit us against each other. If you weren’t his golden boy, you were nothing. He made me feel like nothing.”
My stomach twisted.
I knew that feeling.
“And things just started changing. Where hockey was my happy place before, my safe place… it became like this weird, toxic relationship. I still loved the game, but I hated how I felt playing under Leduc. I stopped smiling at games, stopped celebrating wins. I’d go home and snap at my mom, lock myself in my room, skip dinner. I’d run drills tirelessly, sometimes until I injured myself, and then I’d punch myself in the face repeatedly and chant how weak I was. I became this… this fucking monster. This version of myself I didn’t even recognize. And I stayed in it. For years. Because I thought that’s what it took to be great.”
His voice cracked on that word, and he looked away, blinking hard.
Oh, God.
If this man cries, I’m going to fucking lose it.
“And you know what? I did make it. I got drafted. I got the dream. But I didn’t get it without those years of abuse still sticking to me like mud. That was why I bounced back and forth between the AHL and NHL for so long.” He shook his head. “When I got drafted, Leduc looked me right in the eyes and scoffed with a nasty curl of his lip. He said they’d made a mistake and I’d be out before they could print my name on a jersey. He said I’d fail.” Carter paled. “And I believed him.”
I closed my eyes on a long exhale. “Carter…”
“Please, just… let me finish.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before speaking again. “I knew — deep down — I was never playing free again. Every time I lace up my skates, he’s still there. He’s this loud and ever-present voice in my head telling me I’m not good enough. That I’m soft. Weak. A loser.”
He drew in another long breath.
“And it didn’t just stop on the ice. I learned early on that silence was safer. That keeping my head down, not taking up space, not making mistakes — that’s how I stayed out of the line of fire. It bled into everything. Friendships. Dating. Sex.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I had one sexual experience before you. With Zina. And I was a fucking kid, Liv. I had no idea what I was doing. And I know I told you the story and joked about it and that’s what I do. I joke about it with everyone. I joke about every fucking thing.” He gritted his teeth, then shook it off like he was getting off topic. “But I choked that night. I didn’t know what to do. What I left out of that story was that I didn’t last long, and Zina laughed at me. All the guys there did, too, and it became this running joke. ‘Don’t put Fabri out in the third. We all know he can’t last.’”
I shook my head.
Hockey players could be real fucking asshole sometimes.
“I have this vivid memory of Zina saying I had no idea what I was doing. But it was his voice I heard when she said it.” There was that soft not-smile on his lips again. “And yeah, after that, I just… I gave up. I throw out corny lines and jokes because I know no one will take me seriously, women included. I make fun of myself before anyone else has the chance. And that’s easier, isn’t it?”