Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“That was a cheap shot. No more dirty shit.” I grunt through my labored breathing.
“No promises.”
Of course that would be his answer. He’s so close his sweaty arm brushes mine, and I’m tempted to be the one to shove him this time.
We’re over halfway there. And goddamn if our games haven’t built our stamina exactly for this moment.
We pass the science building which should be abandoned, but the second I round the corner in the lead, the main door opens and spills light down onto the pavement.
Shit!
I stumble to a stop. Without thinking, I grab Beck just before he can go flying past me and throw us both into the bushy hedges.
“Jacobs, what the—”
I slap my hand over his mouth and press a finger to mine, telling him to shut the hell up for once in his life.
And then it occurs to me how this looks. Two guys, naked and panting in the bushes.
All I can do is hope like hell we don’t get caught.
When the footsteps from whoever was in the science building fade, I let out a loud breath and drop my hand from Beck’s mouth.
Beck grins. “Embarrassed to be naked in public?”
“Embarrassed to be seen with you in public. Has nothing to do with our lack of clothing.”
He laughs. “I don’t believe that for a second. Don’t worry, I’d be the same if I was a grower not a shower.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss. “I’m not above getting out a measuring tape.”
“Nah, putting those inadequacies on another man is plain mean.”
Do not engage. Do not engage.
I get into a crouch and slowly rise up, peering over the hedge. “You think they’re gone?”
Beck jumps to his feet. “I don’t care if they’re not. The key is to run so fast they don’t get a good look at your junk.”
He takes off, and shit, I’m so going to lose this round. I go to run after him, but then he lifts his hand and waves.
“Hi, Professor Morley,” Beck calls out.
I duck back behind the hedge. Oh God, not Professor Morley. She’s like ninety years old.
Shit, shit, shit, I don’t know what to do.
Damn it. Beck can’t win.
I need this.
I make a break for it and try to block out everything except the finish line.
I gain some ground, but the few seconds head start is enough for Beck to make it back first.
He’s already pulling up his shorts when I reach them. Damn it.
Rossi throws me my clothes.
“What took you guys so long?” Cohen asks.
“Jacobs pulled me into the bushes for some naked fun. I guess staring at my ass did it for him.”
“Except you’re forgetting I was in front of you,” I bite out. “Someone came out of the science building.”
“That’s what he says. I didn’t see anyone.”
I frown. “But you said—”
Beck laughs. “You played dirty with the phone numbers. Imaginary Professor Morley was payback.”
I want to bitch him out, but I don’t know if I’m in a position to do it. I did play dirty with the phone numbers.
But still, I could have had him.
“What’s the score again?” Beck taunts.
I clench my fists.
Murder is illegal.
Murder is illegal.
6
Beck
Week two of camp consists solely of hockey and taunting Jacobs about the CUM challenges being 2-1 in my favor. And all week, he still does that thing where he pretends I’m not getting to him. I have to admit, he’s actually pretty good at it, but there are moments where he slips.
A scowl.
A set jaw.
He can’t hide every reaction from me.
Pair that with actually enjoying mentoring the high school kids, I’m beginning to wonder why I never volunteered for training camp before.
Jacobs’s bitter voice fills my head. “Too busy on your family’s yacht.”
Oh. Right. That’s why.
I shake that thought free because I won’t let my stupid future—or lack thereof—stop me from having the best summer of my life.
I had no idea how rewarding it could be to teach and guide someone to hone their skills and make them better. A few of these kids have real talent, and seeing them grow into that settles something inside me I don’t quite understand.
I think it’s accomplishment. Maybe? I don’t know what the fuck that feels like seeing as I haven’t worked for a thing in my life.
Even hockey comes naturally to me. I’ve definitely worked hard at getting as good as I am, but I’ve always seen it as a hobby because I’ve never been allowed to think of it as more. So, while scoring one of the winning goals in the Frozen Four last season was an amazing feat, it didn’t hold the same significance to me that it did to Grant or Jacobs. It was awesome, yes, but life changing? Not so much.
This camp though … these kids …
When I can see them truly listening to me and understand what I’m telling them, it’s an indescribable feeling. Teaching them about the difference between knowing when to pressure an opponent and when to contain them, helping them with their slap shots, and even shooting the shit about hockey, the NHL, and who we think looks good this coming season is fun.