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)
“Eh, sometimes, but Eliza is always so happy and confident. It’s annoying.”
Louisa holds her gaze. “Yeah, and you ran off to Nashville, while I was stuck with her.”
I smack my sister. “You love me. And also, Coleson makes me this way. I swear, he looks at me like he wants to gobble me up. And just saying…I let him.”
They both grin like they’re cats with canaries in their mouths. “I can’t,” Austen cackles, shaking her head.
“All that aside, what if he did hire her?” Louisa asks.
I shake my head. “No, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t have sex before games. He never has, and when I asked her who sent her, ’cause I’m sure it was one of his teammates to get him in trouble, the girl took off.”
Austen’s jaw falls open, and Louisa glares as she gasps, “No fucking way. They’d do that?”
“Yeah,” I say with a disgusted shake of my head. “I realize he has a past, but he’s such a good guy. So giving and kind. He’d give the shirt off his back to his teammates, but they can’t let go of the mistakes he made. He hasn’t had it easy,” I say softly. “I mean, nothing like us, but his parents weren’t the greatest. And in my opinion, he let the attention of making a hockey team get to his head.”
Austen squeezes my hand. “You’re probably right. When you go without the right kind of attention, you either plunge headfirst into the wrong kind, or you run from it.”
“Exactly. Which is why it was nothing for me to look past it all. He’s not that guy. He’s wonderful,” I breathe out as I watch him skate. “I love him very much.”
Louisa leans her head on my shoulder. “We know, Liza.”
Austen leans her head on top of mine. “I just hope he loves you as much as you love him.”
I don’t answer her because I’ve already lied enough, and I can’t confidently say he does. I feel he does, and I want to think he does, even though he hasn’t mentioned the three words I want so damn badly. However, I know things have changed. After last night and after our talk today, I know things are on their way up, but I can’t tell my sisters about that. As much as I don’t like lies between my sisters and me, the one of how my marriage came about will be one I hold forever. I’m okay with it, because in my heart, this has always been what I wanted.
Him. Coleson.
When my eye catches Barnes’s number 7 jersey, I point to him. “Hey, Austen. Who is that?”
She follows the direction of where I am pointing and then opens her trusty iPad. She taps a few times. “Willis Barnes, number seven, forward, left wing, newly acquired by the Kraken over the summer. Oh, he actually played for the Knoxville Bears last year.”
Beside me, Louisa says in a low voice, “His wife is the one Coleson was found with.”
My stomach clenches, and now it makes sense why Coleson looked so stricken on the ice. “He stopped Coleson during warm-ups.”
Louisa nods. “I know. I saw.”
“Hopefully he doesn’t ruin Coleson’s night,” Austen says, a tinge of concern in her voice.
Unfortunately, that’s not the case. All night, I have to watch as my husband takes hits from Barnes and a lot of the other Kraken players. Coleson can’t even get a shot off without getting slammed into or checked. Each hit feels like I’m the one taking it, and each time he winces, I wince too. I don’t like this part of hockey, but Coleson’s resilience is inspiring. He doesn’t give up. He plays his game and draws two penalties back-to-back. Though, he hasn’t had a chance to score or even set up a play without someone being on him.
It’s fucking frustrating, for sure.
But this is the big leagues—or at least, that’s what Austen tells me.
I’m not a fan.
CHAPTER 41
Coleson
My side is on fire, and I’m beyond frustrated. This is not how I thought my first game in the NHL would go, but then, my life is a string of what-the-fucks. Out of all the teams to face in my first game, it had to be the team with Barnes on it. I just want to play, but Barnes is on me like a fly on shit. I can’t get a fucking edge. He’s taken some cheap shots, mostly to my ribs, and has been called twice, but still, he’s coming for me. He’s a big dude, and when he slams me into the boards, I feel it everywhere. But I refuse to give up.
This bastard won’t ruin my future.
With each intermission, I lean back in my locker and run through each play I made, each time I was on the ice. And while I’m keeping my cool, I’m not impressing anyone. It doesn’t matter how hard it is to get ahead; I have to get there. I have to stand out or my chances are gone. Coach is giving me ice time, and I have to show that I deserve it. With my wife here, I can’t show that I’m sucking, because she’ll worry, and I don’t want that. No, I have to put my game back where it needs to be—and that’s on the track to earning a spot. Somewhere.