Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Eric carries the puck up ice with that effortless stride of his, weaving through two Philly defenders like they’re standing still. He dishes it off to Weber, who one-times it toward the net. The goalie makes the save, but the rebound pops out right to Chase, who buries it top shelf.
The small contingent of Legends fans in attendance erupts, and I have to bite my lip to keep from cheering too loudly. Down on the ice, Eric skates over to celebrate with his linemates, that focused intensity I love so much written all over his face. My heart does this ridiculous fluttering thing, like I’m a teenager with a crush instead of a grown woman who kissed that mouth this morning.
“Beautiful goal,” Sailor says, already typing up a social media post. “Great chemistry from that line.”
I’ll show you chemistry, pal. I’m already brainstorming all the best ways to reward Eric for that play later tonight.
In the third period, Philly tries to mount a comeback. And when one of their players catches Eric with a late hit behind the net, I’m halfway out of my seat before Zoe grabs me by the cardigan sweater.
“Easy, killer,” Steve Sailor says, giving me a sidelong glance. “Dude is fine.”
“Right, yup,” I say quickly.
Luckily, the third period winds down, and Philly never gets their mojo back. The final buzzer sounds, and New York has claimed their first victory on the road. I watch Eric raise his stick to acknowledge the traveling fans, and the satisfaction on his face makes my chest tight with something I’m not ready to name.
“It worked,” I say to Zoe, pointing down at my toes and trying to sound normal. “Our lucky nail color. We should probably get them touched up every road trip.”
“Sure, buddy. Whatever keeps you sane.” She pops up from her seat. “I’m going to go celebrate with my man. You coming?”
My heart drops, because I want that. I want to go hug my sweaty hockey player and tell him how exhilarating that game was.
Instead, I’m going to let a whole lot of other people say it first. “You go ahead. I’ll check in with the boss and see you back at the hotel.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder, because she can probably guess what’s in my heart. “I’ll save you a bar stool if I get back there first.”
Chapter 45
The Ice Bucket Trick
Eric
It’s late, and I should be tired. But I’m wired instead, pacing my hotel room, waiting for Darcy to show.
I had a big night. Winning that game felt great. And afterward, I showed my face in the bar with my happy teammates for an hour, like usual.
Darcy was present, but not at my side. Truth be told, I was envious of Merritt and Zoe, heads bent together at the bar, chatting away together. I had to settle for a game of pool with Weber, and a cold beer.
It’s not the end of the world, I guess, keeping my distance at moments like that. But talking to her at the end of the night is how I usually unwind. So I’m waiting impatiently for her tap on the door.
There are things I want to say to her. Good things.
When the knock finally comes, I fly to the door and open it, finding her wide-eyed and holding a full ice bucket to her chest. “Quick, let me in,” she whispers.
I step aside. “You brought ice! I don’t need a cocktail at this hour, but I could still think of a few fun uses for it.” I give her a sleazy wink.
She laughs. “I’d never tell you to keep your mind out of the gutter, because I happen to like it there. But this was my decoy. And thank goodness, because Mr. Sharp cornered me just outside the elevators to ask me to plan a lunch in November.”
“Oh shit!” No wonder she looks a little frazzled. “So you pulled Zoe’s trick? Hello sir, the ice machine is broken on my floor?”
“Exactly.” She hands me the bucket. “He’s not even the only person I ran into. DeLuca and Larkin were laughing about some stunt they played on a rookie and—”
A sharp knock at my door interrupts her. And then a voice. “Yo, Cap?”
Darcy claps a hand over her mouth, and her eyes go wide again.
“… It’s Calder. If you know where Darcy is, I need to ask her my room number. She won’t answer her texts.”
My girlfriend gives me a panicked look. Then she digs into her big handbag and yanks out a sheet of paper. She shows me Calder’s name on the manifest, then gestures toward the door.
Taking my time, I walk over to the door and open it, but I don’t invite him in. “Hey, man. I don’t know where Darcy is. Why would you think I’d know?”