Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Until he does.
Coleson Katz’s reputation is worse than the sludge shoveled off the ice between periods of a hockey game. He has made some bad personal choices, so when it’s time for him to be called up to the NHL, no one wants to give him a chance. He’s told that the only way to fix his reputation is by finding a wife, but he wants to do anything other than that. Who would want to marry a hockey player who is known for sleeping around?
But then he’s reminded that Eliza wants to learn how to operate a coffee shop. He owns one of those, has been running it his whole life. He proposes a trade. His coffee shop in exchange for a year of her life in a fake marriage to him.
Easy peasy.
Or so he thinks.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Coleson
“No one likes you.”
Wow. Well, that’s kind of fucked up. I’m a likable dude. I play hockey and make a damn good brew; I’m a winner in my book. I’m not entirely sure who the hell these people are who don’t like me, but in my opinion, fuck ’em. I bring in my brows, my face scrunching up, before I set El Davenport with a look that telegraphs exactly what I’m thinking.
“I mean, I think you’re great,” she adds with a nervous giggle. El is the social media manager for the Knoxville Bears, the American Hockey League team I play for. She’s savvy as all hell in all things social media. She has done a great job with the Bears’ accounts, along with the account for the arena we play in.
El knows what she’s doing, and she does it well.
Doesn’t mean I agree with her assessment of me, but I’m guessing the folder in front of her will explain why I’m so unlikable.
“Don’t hold back now, El. Hit me where it hurts.”
She grimaces before opening her folder. Her chestnut-colored hair is up in a big, messy bun, pieces falling around her face and in her blue eyes, while her dark glasses slide down her nose. She swallows hard and sits back on the barstool she’s occupying. I lean on the high-top, waiting, and I cup my jaw to keep my hands still. Nerves eat at my gut, and my chest is tight as I watch her. This is the last damn thing I want to do today.
Or any day, really.
When I tried out for the Knoxville Bears, I didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of making the team, but I did. Not only did I make the team, but the coach saw something in me that no one else did. Talent. Raw talent that could be molded. I have spent the last year working with the coaches and trainers, getting better each day. I never thought the NHL was in the cards for me. My parents didn’t care to support my dreams, and no one told me I could make that dream a reality. Not until I met Riggs McCoy, the coach for the Knoxville Bears.
He believes in me, which is good since I still feel like the NHL is unattainable.
“You’ve done great not sleeping with anything that wiggles its ass at you,” she says softly, as if she’s embarrassed for me. She doesn’t need to be. I’m not. So, I fucked around. I was a nobody before I got on the team.
Once word hit the town that I was playing for the Bears, everyone came out of the woodwork, thinking they could lock me down and make me their cash cow. Nope. Not happening. But I sure did enjoy myself. “The comments on posts of you, saying you’re a whore, have finally stopped.”
That was fun and was started by Tonya, a girl who tried to get me to knock her up. She went all out, poking holes in condoms and trying to get me drunk to get me to come inside her. It was interesting, and I learned quickly that, in general, these girls in Knoxville are no good. Neither are the ones in the surrounding towns. Hell, even here in Blitz. They are all thirsty as fuck. “I’m sure that’s making your life easier.”
She gives me a shy grin, and her eyes light up. “It is. I hate trying to explain to my peepaw why no one likes you.”
“But they still don’t?”