Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
The way you love me is breathtaking. You make me feel safe and supported, cared for and worthy. You love me when it’s inconvenient and messy while loving you makes me feel strong and capable of anything—even being vulnerable.
I’ve been so busy with the renovation that I lost sight of the goal. It wasn’t about making it pretty. It was about making it a home. I picked out the tiles and the faucets with renters in mind, so they would be comfortable. And feel at home. But that’s not what I want.
Well, I want it to be a home. Our home.
It will be our place together, where we can raise Roman and maybe our own children.
Writing that makes me panic a little. Not because I don’t mean it, but because I hope it’s not too forward. But I’ve been a rule follower my whole life. It’s time to break a few for you.
But laws will still be enforced because I learned my lesson with the accident.
I love you, Daniel Sutton. And I want you to know that my heart is yours and my life is with you. I looked around today and realized I have everything I ever wanted, and none of it makes me happy because you’re not here.
You are my home. You are my everything.
XOXO,
Summer
CHAPTER 33
DANIEL
“You want me to show you how to put the biscuit in the basket, Maverick—Oof.”
The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m sliding backward on my ass after being blindsided. What the actual fuck?
“Landers!” Coach yells. “Out. Now.”
Skating away, Landers throws his arms up like he didn’t just body check one of his own teammates. “Come on, Coach. It’s not my fault he can’t take a hit.”
Kovlov circles me once before skidding to a stop. He watches me warily as I get to my feet, as if he’s trying to decide how to handle a pissed-off me.
“He’s a goon on the ice, Mav,” Kovlov says.
I stare at him. “No fucking shit.” Adjusting a glove, I skate toward the bench. “Well, that goon is about to get his teeth knocked the fuck out.”
Today started out so well with a FaceTime call with Sunshine. I got to practice early, felt like a million bucks, and then it all went to shit with these new twentysomething kids the franchise picked up in the offseason. I won’t take their shit. That was Landers’s free hit. He’ll pay a price the next time. They’ll learn that I’m not the one to fuck with. I only wish the learning curve wasn’t so steep.
Slamming my skates into the wall, I glare at Coach. “You going to handle your boy?”
“Working on it.” He moves down the bench, standing in front of me. “Stop antagonizing him.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I didn’t stutter, Sutton.”
My jaw dusts the ground. “It’s my fault? I’ve done a lot of shit, for sure, but I’ve never taken out a teammate.”
Coach dips his chin, glaring at me. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”
“I stand corrected,” I say, unflinching. “I’ve never taken out a teammate who didn’t deserve it.”
“Neither has Landers.” He turns away from me, clapping his hands to gather the team’s attention. “Get back out there, Landers. Try to remember you’re on the same team as Sutton.”
Landers skates by me, pointedly not looking my way. He’s skating a little stiffer than usual. It’s the posture of someone who knows they now have a mark on their forehead.
Good.
“Don’t fuck with the big dogs, little puppy, or you’re going to find out who’s boss in this barn,” I yell at him.
He keeps skating, giving no indication that he heard me. But he did. We both know it.
I take a breath and give myself a second to recenter.
There’s so much work to be done before the season starts, and by the looks of things, I’m not sure the preseason is enough time to get our shit together. There’s a lot of talent on the ice, and we’re fortunate to have veterans back for another year. But we’re just not gelling as a team. We’re not coming together. And if these new guys don’t step up and get their heads on straight, we never will.
I glance at Coach. “You sure you can pull this team together in two weeks before preseason starts?”
He takes off his hat, scratching between the few hairs hanging on for dear life. His gaze sweeps across the arena. With every inch it moves, his frown deepens.
“This is what we have to work with,” he says, putting his hat back on. “We have the best players in the league. If we can stop the rookie’s bad habits and the veteran’s egos, we might have a chance.”
I feel his sigh in my hockey soul.
“Whatever happens,” I say. “It’s going to be a hell of a season.”
“It sure is.” He motions for me to get back on the ice. “Now let’s get to work.”