Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Shock continues to run wild.
“They needed a leader in that locker room. They needed a leader out on the ice. They needed a leader to rally them after a loss – especially with Cap on leave – but because your ass was too caught up in your own bullshit you didn’t deliver. You didn’t do your job,” he stabs his finger in my general direction, “as alternate captain. And that’s where the issue of trust comes into question.”
“And that’s why I need to know if I can trust that wheeling Hoss won’t be a problem.”
“That you can still be trusted to do what it is you need to do on the ice regardless of what’s going on off.”
“That wheeling Hoss isn’t more important than doing your fucking duty.”
“I’m not just wheeling Hoss, Hennington,” leaves me in an aggressive tone. “I’m bloody in love with her.” Flying to the edge of my seat is a mindless action. “I’m beat my own head against the boards, skates over bucket, retire before I’m thirty, want to put a bloody ring on her finger right now in love with her.” My attention swings back and forth between them. “She isn’t just some random rocket that I don’t mind seeing when we’re in the same town. She is the rocket. She is my rocket. She is my Slayer and will be whether there’s a dragon on my crest or something else.” Additional fierceness fires through my tone. “And you’re right, Coach. I didn’t do my job. I let my personal shit spill into my professional one and wasn’t there for my mates like I should’ve been; however, one blunder…one. Bloody. Blunder. Doesn’t negate all that I’ve done or do for them or mean that you should trade me. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Trade you?” Hennington’s scoff shoots me back in my seat. “Why the fuck would I trade you?”
“The…Hoss and me…scandal?”
Her eye roll hurts my head which is impressive. “Do you how many pylons have scandals in this league?! You wheeling someone in a different department – who you’re probably gonna marry – barely warrants the phone call I got asking me to send in documentation that this was not an abuse of power situation unfolding.”
Bobbing of my jaw occurs once more.
“In fact…your commitment to not letting it be a focal point of this team, to going above and beyond to keep the media’s attention on what we’re doing right on the ice as much as off it, is not just admirable, it’s deeply fucking appreciated.”
More movement with no words.
“You are my stud, Frosky,” she states with passion and pride. “You are my top scorer. You have just crushed this franchise’s goals record. You’re in the top five of the league for points for the season. You’re typically a cap when you need to be, an assistant cap when Cap needs you to be, an enforcer when the defensive needs an extra body, and support whenever or wherever the boys need it most – on the ice or off. You have always given your best for this team…this family. It’s one of the things that makes you so fucking irreplaceable.”
New waves of awe keep me stunned silent.
“But we need to know that we can trust you to get your shit together.” A quirked eyebrow is shot in my direction. “That this shit with Hoss-”
“My relationship.”
“That your relationship,” she sassily corrects, doing her best to not smirk, “isn’t going to be a problem for your focus and isn’t going to interfere with your ability to do your fucking job because if it is…then you’ll no longer be the stud I knew you were when I signed you. You’ll just be another fucking pigeon; I have to figure out how to get rid of.”
“Such a way with words, boss,” Coach chuckles.
“It won’t be.” Yet again, I lean forward to reiterate my firmness. “FERDA.”
“Speaking of pigeons…we’ve traded Payne,” announces the GM.
“For a college rookie?”
“Sort of,” Coach scrunches his face while bouncing his head back and forth. “Your tilly a couple weeks back showed me the power in a heavy d that also knows how to assist, so our playoff focus is shifting that direction across the board. We’re fairly tight here – when all skates are laced – but Stroll’s needs more help and Payne is very centered on only what he can do versus what he can do for the boys.”
“We don’t need that,” Hennington needlessly reminds. “Remember.” Her pointed digit stabs the empty desk space in front of her. “We. Don’t. Need. That.”
“Understood.”
Both nod their heads in appreciation convincing me to finally let my shoulders sag in relief.
Alright.
I’m not cut.
Or traded.
Or really in that much trouble.
Which is amazing.
And very unexpected.
However…what does that mean for Arden?
Where does that leave her?
“How about Hoss?” creeps out in a mousy tone. “Do you…still…need…her?”