Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“I wonder if Penn will come,” I say as we head toward North’s table.
“Doubt it,” King says from behind me. “He hasn’t come to any gathering since camp started.”
Penn is definitely a bit of a mystery. He’s kept to himself at training camp, not willing to engage in small talk between drills. When he’s working out, he has his earbuds in and that look on his face that says he doesn’t want to be disturbed. While he’ll begrudgingly stop to sign autographs if fans are around, he does it quickly and without engaging in conversation. In fact, I’d think he was completely mute if I hadn’t heard him curse in frustration when someone made a mistake or wasn’t playing up to potential.
Penn didn’t dress for a single preseason game because he didn’t need to. His position is the most secure on the team.
Truth be told, my position is secure too. I did play a few minutes tonight, but it wasn’t necessary. I think Coach put me out there just to get the competitive blood flowing. Same with Rafferty, King, North and Atlas. These were all trades that cost the Titans dearly, so they’re not going to be hacking it down in the minors.
“About time you grandmas got here,” North says as we take seats around the table.
North is a cool guy. I actually got to hang with him a bit this summer as he attended our assistant coach Gage Heyward’s wedding in Charleston, South Carolina. North and Gage played together on the Seattle Storm and are close friends. He and I did a few too many shots at the reception and I have vague memories of a dance-off, which I wish I remembered none of because I can’t dance for shit.
But man, what a wedding it was. Held outdoors at a country club under massive sprawling oaks laden with dripping Spanish moss, Gage’s soon-to-be wife Jenna arrived in a carriage drawn by four pristine white horses. When she stepped out with the help of her father, her dress billowed around her, making her look every bit the princess Gage thought her to be.
I’ve been to a few weddings in my lifetime, especially since becoming a professional hockey player because someone is always getting married, but Gage and Jenna’s nuptials were by far the most romantic and beautiful I’ve ever seen.
A waitress appears, a pretty little thing with sunny blond hair caught up in a high ponytail, a low-cut black T-shirt and minuscule white shorts.
She smiles genially at us, but we definitely look strange among the faded jeans, leather jackets and biker boots. Since we all came straight from the arena where we’re required to wear suits to and from, we’re dressed up, although we ditched our coats and ties before coming inside.
“What will you boys be having?” she asks and then jerks her head toward the bar. “Big Earl said this round is on him to celebrate the end of the preseason.”
We all order beers and when she walks away, Rafferty whistles low as he stares shamelessly at her ass. “What do you think the chances are I’ll score with her tonight?”
“No clue,” I reply as I glance once more at her retreating form and then turn back to him with a sly grin. “But the more beer you drink, I’m betting you think your chances will increase.”
The other guys guffaw. Rafferty smirks and shakes his head. “Actually, I’m thinking my chances are low. She was making moon eyes at pretty boy here.”
Rafferty points at King, whose eyes flare wide. “Me? Pretty boy? What the fuck?”
I snort because I know exactly what Rafferty means. Jack Kingston—King to all his friends, family and teammates—could have a stellar career as a male model if the hockey gig didn’t work out. I’m by no means an expert on what modeling agencies look for but I’ve seen enough women in the last few weeks with their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. He’s got dark hair he wears fairly short and the lightest brown-gold eyes I’ve ever seen, framed by lashes so thick, it’s almost as if he’s wearing makeup. Not to wax poetic, but the dude has got the most perfectly symmetrical face with not a single plane out of line. His teeth are white and straight and clearly he’s never taken a puck or hard elbow there.
What’s most adorable about this young guy is that he’s not really aware of it. When he looks at Rafferty in shock, it’s genuine. I can’t figure out if he’s dense or naive, but I imagine if he paid attention to the women around him, he’d be getting laid… a lot.
Rafferty’s head swings my way and he changes the subject. “What’s the deal with your new nanny?”
My hackles rise slightly as I don’t like the intimation in his voice. It’s not one of friendly conversation but rather of romantic interest.