Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
The three periods are over, and we end up winning four to two. It’s always a good time after you win. I’m named first star, so I skate around the rink, tossing three pucks into the stands. Saving the last one for her section, I toss it over the glass toward her but it is snatched out of the air way before it even gets to her.
I rush to the locker room and take my phone, sending her a text before the media is let into the room.
Meet me downstairs.
I press send, waiting for a second, and when I don’t see the three dots pop up, I call her. Dialing her number, I put my finger to my other ear to block out the sound of the guys celebrating while I walk into the hallway, where it’s a bit quieter. She answers after three rings. “Hello,” she says and I can hear people around her.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Trying to get out of here.” She laughs. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the locker room,” I tell her. “Come meet me.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she says, chuckling.
“Come on, I need to thank you for showing up.” I look around. “Plus, I have a puck here.”
She laughs. “Go toward the escalator that leads to downstairs,” I instruct her. “Once there, follow the signs that bring you to media.”
“Ugh,” she groans, and I hear rustling from her end. “Five minutes—I have to be somewhere,” she says, and I squeeze my phone tighter.
“See you soon,” I say and hang up before I piss her off by asking her a million questions about who she’s meeting.
I stand here at the entrance of the media corridor, hearing some of the fans walk by, my back pressed against the wall. The drops of water from my hair fall onto my jersey. I peek my head out and then I see her walking around the corner with that girl, the two of them talking and laughing together. I get a chance to look at her without her knowing and it all makes sense to me now. Everything my father said to me when I asked him how he knew my mother was the one.
“You aren’t supposed to think you found the one. You are supposed to know. If it’s the one, there isn’t that question. There aren’t any questions, it just is. There is no second-guessing when you know it’s the one.”
He’s so fucking right. It’s nothing that I can explain. It isn’t like it’s written in a book or flashing lights are pointing at it. You just know, and standing here watching her, my stomach gets tight, my chest contracts, and I feel like I can walk on water.
She must sense me looking at her because she turns her head toward me. She looks around and then holds up a finger to tell me to wait a minute, while she then points up toward the ladies’ bathroom. I nod my head at her as she disappears from my sight.
“Damn,” I hear from beside me, seeing Brady from Toronto standing there still in his gear. The only thing off is his skates. The opponent’s locker room is right next to where I’m standing.
“Who’s the chick?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Fuck off, Brady.” I motion with my head toward his changing room. Brady all but laughs in my face and claps his hands.
“If she was yours, would you even have to tell me to fuck off?” He pokes the bear with a stick. I stand, going toe-to-toe with him, but because I still have my skates on, I’m taller than him.
“Let me put this in words that you are going to understand,” I say between clenched teeth. A couple of people from Toronto have stuck their heads out of the room. “If you even go next to her, I’m going to make sure you are eating from a straw for the next four months.”
He chuckles and is about to say something when the captain of the team comes out and grabs Brady by his shirt. “Go get changed,” he tells Brady.
I stare into his eyes. “Is that clear enough for you?” Brady takes one more look at me before he turns and heads back to the room. The minute he walks away from me, another thing hits me, shocking me even more—my uncle Matthew has been right about everything.
sofia
I flush the toilet and walk out to wash my hands at the same time Addison rushes back into the bathroom. I put my hand under the soap dispenser and I’m about to wash my hands when I see her face. “I think we should go,” she urges, looking over her shoulder and I’m afraid something happened to her.
I put my hands under the stream of water to rinse off the soap. “Is everything okay?” I ask before walking over and snatching some brown paper from the dispenser and drying my hands.