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 difference is you didn’t care—”
“I care. I’ve put twelve years into this team. Ten into you. I called to give you the only heads-up I was given.” The silence has me wondering if I should slip away before I’m discovered or if he’d want me in there. Daniel can fight his own battles, but would he want the support?
His Coach finally says, “I think you have some years left in this sport. It doesn’t sound like you want to be a part of the evolution of the league.”
“I want to play hockey,” Daniel says. His voice is almost small, unlike his stature. Or ego, for that matter.
“Then you know what you need to do. The program will soften the image and—”
“I give up Summer and get to keep my spot on the team. Oh, and we can’t forget doing time—”
My hand flies to the nearest wall, hoping I can stabilize myself before I fall. Give me up? My stomach convulses. I’m a detriment to his career now? The walls start to cave in as my head spins. I run, rushing through a group in the living room blocking the exit. “I’m sorry,” I plead when I spill a lady’s drink. I turn back, focused on the door. Just get out of here, Summer. I throw my arms out for balance as I run down the front steps and land on the driveway.
Looking both ways, I groan, “Now what?”
The fresh air feels good in my lungs as my hurried breaths rush in and out of my mouth. I start the way we came. Although I know it’s a long walk to a neighbor’s house, but I have crappy cell service and no other choice. I walk through the open gates and almost run into Lindy smoking a cigarette.
She hides it reflexively behind her back, but then breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I’m so glad it’s only you.”
“Yeah, only me.”
“What are you doing out here?”
Holding my phone, I say, “Spotty cell service.”
“Ah.”
“You?”
She takes another long drag and laughs. “I don’t smoke much anymore, but those women are toxic.”
“Katrina and Lori?”
“Mm-hmm.” She hides the cigarette again when a car pulls onto the driveway and heads through the gates. “They’re driving me to drink and smoke to take the edge off.” Shifting closer, she says, “Word of advice. Steer clear. If you can’t do that, ignore anything they say. I need a shower after I spend time with them.” Lindy looks at me again like she sees something she missed before. “Why aren’t you with Maverick?”
I give up Summer. Tears don’t threaten. The pain is already transforming into anger. I could feed off that anger to get me home, which is hours too far from where I am now. “It’s complicated.”
She takes one more long drag and then offers it to me. “Thanks. I don’t smoke.”
“You’re too nice. I can tell. Dating a hockey player will ruin you if you’re not careful. Cheating on the road, dealing with the puck bunnies always trying to steal your man. And one day, you’ll wake up caring about who goes first in the buffet line out of the WAGS at the arena.” Dropping the cigarette, she squashes it with the toe of her cute shoes. “As someone who rides the line as a pro hockey player’s girlfriend and having my own damn life in the city, I love giving unsolicited advice because I can tell you’re a good person. Talk to Maverick. It’s rarely ‘complicated’ if you can talk to each other.” She passes, starting the hike back to the house but doesn’t get too far when she says, “Maybe I’ll see you around, Summer.”
I’m left with nothing to say again. My thoughts are muddied from the toxicity of the hierarchy of women, that there even is one, and Daniel sacrificing me without a second thought. I start walking. If nothing else, I’ll get to clear my head. Hopefully.
Why would they even ask that of him?
Is Daniel not allowed a life after all he’s done for them?
Was I embarrassing, and the Coach is protecting his star player?
I don’t know. I sigh, wondering if I acted too rash and should go back to talk to him like Lindy said. Stopping, I look down at the phone, hoping the map can give me an idea of how far I am from . . . from anything.
The sound of a car pulls my gaze into the distance. Vintage black sports car and that dang license plate on the front: HATTRICK.
Daniel slows down and then pulls up in front of me with the top down. Sunglasses, perfect flow to his hair, handsome as ever. Some of the anger begins to null just being close to him again.
“Need a ride?”
“No.” I look back at the direction I was heading. “I think there’s a . . . um. Something up here where I can get a ride back to the bed-and-breakfast.”