Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Holy shit, I’m doing it.”
“Yeah, you are. Look out, NHL. Zach’s coming for you.”
I flip him off, and since I’m only holding on with one hand, I decide to try it solo. I don’t immediately fall over which is a surprise in itself, but when I actually manage movement, I let out a little squeak.
Well, not a squeak, a, umm … okay. Apparently, I do squeak.
Foster takes off for a lap of the rink and I start building up some speed. There’s absolutely no way I could do this with the pads or the sticks or the puck, but this … this is okay.
Foster approaches, and just as I think he’s about to run right into me, he jerks his skates to the left and makes a sudden stop.
It scares me, and I lose my balance.
I resign myself to experiencing immense pain, but Foster’s arm loops around my waist, and he pulls me back against him.
“I’ve got you, baby.” His warm lips find my cold cheek.
I turn in his arms and grin up at him. “I never doubted it.”
“This is …” He looks around the rink. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“Honestly, neither can I. But I have to. Because you’re important to me and this is important to you, and if I’m going to be your biggest supporter, that can’t just be with words. I talked to Professor Lawrence yesterday and explained that you might be signed, well, anywhere. He said once you know a location, we can look at my schedule and see if there are any changes we can make so I can visit you more. But when I’m with you, I don’t want to be a distraction. So that means if I want you to do well, and want to spend time with you”—I tap the toe of his skate with mine—“it means I need to join you on your turf. Even if it terrifies me. Even if it’s not what I’m used to or good at, even if it means talking to people about hockey.” A shudder runs through my body. “I’m never going to change, but I am going to step out of my comfort zone. Because I really want this to work.” Foster blinks his warm brown eyes at me, and I reach up to run my hand over his stubbled jaw. “It’s recently come to my attention that even if I don’t completely buy into the concept of spontaneous emotion that perhaps I’m not in complete control after all.”
“Aaand you’ve lost me.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been sure. B-but I, ah, sort of don’t know how to—”
“I love you.”
My heart stops. Restarts. I process the words.
Then I punch him in the shoulder. “Excuse me, that was my line.”
Foster shrugs. “You snooze. You lose.”
“I was supposed to say it first.”
“Ah, but you didn’t. I did. So now I’ll always have bragging rights.”
“That’s … completely, ah—”
“Zach, I think the words you’re searching for are I love you too, Foster.”
I scowl. “Well, now I’m not so sure.”
“Repeat after me: I love you, Foster.”
“Do I?”
His smile ignites a flutter in my gut as he cups my face and leans down. “You do. Because you’re on skates. Ready to face a future that is so fucking uncertain I’m sure it’s giving you hives. Yet, you’re doing it for me anyway.”
“I am.”
Foster’s lips brush mine. “Say it.”
And how can I not? How can I hold back something so big that it both confuses me and seems blindingly clear? “I love you too.”
“Of course you do.” Foster’s lips find my ear. “But I loved you first.”
Epilogue
FOSTER
* * *
Hey, Foster, what are you doing tonight?
Oh, you know, just playing in the Frozen Four final. Only the most important hockey game of my life, and it happens to be at TD Garden. No biggie. This is an everyday occurrence for me. Nothing to see here.
I’ve had an offer from a West Coast team that’s still on the table, but Damon said to hold out. He’s in talks with a few other teams he knows I’ll jump at. I’m stupid to think The B’s will want me, but fuck, walking into their territory, playing on their ice … I feel at home.
We killed the competition in the first game, even with me skating around blinded by awe for half the night.
Our arena at school is impressive, but it’s nothing compared to a professional stadium.
We’re one game away from not only breaking the CU curse, which we already did by making it here, but smashing it completely.
If we go home with the W tonight, every single member of this team will live in Colchester history as the team who did the unthinkable.
The last few months have been an insane schedule of studying, working out, practicing, and Zach.
I don’t care how I’m with him, where I’m with him, or what we’re doing. I’m happy to crash out from exhaustion while he sits on his computer writing his thesis.