Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“I told you guys, don’t sweat it yet,” I said. “We’re a long way from relocating to Austin.”
“Is that when you were going to tell us?” Dom asked. “When it was time to pack our bags?”
I glared at him. He’d never let me forget that I hadn’t told my teammates other cities were being considered, and it didn’t matter to him that I’d been told to keep it quiet by our team owner.
“Did you hear Quebec is one of the cities?” Sal asked. “Would I have to become a Canadian citizen?”
“No, dumbass,” Dom said.
“I’m a dumbass?” Sal demanded. “You’re the one who asked why stores sell a ‘zero’ birthday candle when no one can turn zero years old.”
Colby howled with laughter. “I forgot about that.”
“I was trashed,” Dom said defensively.
“Remember when he posted that pic of a meteor shower but he spelled it m-e-a-t-i-e-r?” Beau asked, laughing.
“Oh shit,” Sal said. “I screenshotted that so fucking fast.”
“I’m a bad speller,” Dom said. “I’m still smarter than you, Sal.”
“Let’s go, ladies,” I said. “We’ve got practice.”
The light mood disappeared immediately. Everyone was tense, because the city council had scheduled a special meeting to vote on the proposed arena deal. If they voted it down, Mila would begin negotiations with other cities, and from the sound of things, there were some cities willing to compete hard to get a pro hockey team.
I’d moved around a lot, playing for Chicago for two years, New York for two years, and Minneapolis for two years before landing here in Denver. I was a high payroll player, and my goal was to settle in somewhere and be part of the backbone of a solid team.
If we left Denver, we’d inevitably have a shakeup of players. Some guys had said they’d retire and others would end up on other teams. We’d just started gelling as a team after nine grueling months. I wanted to see it through.
And I hoped for a chance to see where things with Elle could go, too. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her in the few days we hadn’t talked. She’d come to my game, and that meant something. She was just letting her head sabotage things.
We did a round of shooting drills, no one’s heart in it today. Even our coaches and trainers were tense. There was a big social media campaign from our fans with the hashtag SavetheCoyotes. People were posting stories about how long they and their families had been fans, and how much going to the games in their city meant. The posts from families of the people who died in the explosion were the toughest to read. They wanted us to stay and rebuild. We all wanted that, too, but we had to be careful what we said about it publicly. No one wanted to risk Mila’s ire.
“Speak of the devil,” Colby said, nodding over at the wall, where Mila stood.
“Think she has news about the vote?” I asked.
“That, or she just wants to brag about the small mammals she just fed on.”
I looked at him, my brow furrowed in confusion.
“Because she’s a cold-blooded snake,” he explained. “A viper. I swear she doesn’t go home to sleep; she just coils up under her desk.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about her.”
Mila cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “We got it! We’re staying in Denver!”
I slumped with relief as the team erupted into cheers. Dom clapped me on the back, his anger forgotten.
Jack and Mila had gambled and won. I never wanted to be a team owner who had to make the decisions Mila did, but I’d never be a billionaire so it was a moot point.
I followed my teammates into our locker room, where we broke out the champagne. We’d won twelve games in a row, and we were staying in Denver. It was a hell of a good day.
For everyone, I imagined, except Elle.
That evening, I’d just gotten home and sat down when I heard a knock at the door. It was a long day of celebrating the good news with season ticket holders and high-dollar donors to our team’s foundation.
My heartrate kicked up as I walked to the door. Not many people came over without notice. I hoped it was Elle.
When I opened the door and saw her, I didn’t say anything. If she was here to tell me she’d decided things wouldn’t work out between us, I didn’t know if I could accept it easily.
“Hey,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Congratulations on the arena.”
Why did I feel like she was acknowledging that we’d been on opposing sides of a battle that I’d won? I didn’t see it that way.
“Thanks,” I said. “Come on in.”
I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her I’d missed her, but I couldn’t. If she didn’t want us to be together, I had to respect it, though it would be hard as hell.