Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Don’t go crazy. It’s too nice a day for that,” I say, handing her the helmet. “For you. It has a little space in the back for your ponytail.”
“It does?” Her lips curve in a delighted grin as she reaches inside, pulling out the satin cap. “And what’s this?”
“It’s a liner,” I say. “To keep your hair from getting messed up. The lady at the store said she always wore one when she went on long rides. I thought you might like one, too.”
“I have something like this I sleep in for the same reason.” Her gaze warms as she rests a hand on my chest, giving my pectoral an affectionate rub that I like way too much. “Thank you, Tank. This is so thoughtful. I appreciate it so much.”
I grunt, and she smiles.
“I do appreciate it. Just take my gratitude and enjoy it, Mister Grunty.” She steps closer, rising onto her toes to press a soft kiss to my lips.
My eyes slide closed for a beat, savoring the sweetness of this woman who clearly hasn’t had a decent man in her life for a while. If she had, she wouldn’t be so touched by simple gestures and garden-variety consideration of her needs.
In that moment, I silently promise to give her a proper spoiling ASAP, to show her not all man are idiots and that she deserves better than the bare minimum.
Way better.
“Let’s go, beautiful,” I murmur against her lips. “We have VIP tickets and the gates open in an hour.”
She pulls back, her eyes wide. “Is it a concert? What kind? I don’t even know what kind of music you like.”
I shrug. “You’ll see. And I like just about everything. Except the really angry shit.”
Her lips hook up in a wry smile. “Don’t like to feed the beast?”
I grunt again. “Something like that. I’m working on my blood pressure, you know.”
“I do know,” she says, slipping on the cap and then the helmet. She lifts her chin, holding my gaze as I reach over to tighten the strap for her. “How’s that going, by the way?”
“Not sure, yet,” I say. “The doc is going to check me out at the beginning of camp week after next. But I feel better. Hopefully, I’m making progress.”
“If not, we’ll keep working on it,” she says, patting my chest again. “No worries.”
No worries…
I can’t remember a time when that phrase would have applied to me, but as she climbs onto the bike behind me and we rumble out of the city, there isn’t a worry on my mind. I’m just…happy.
Happy to be on the road and to have a solid seven hours of Steph time stretching out ahead of me.
The ride south is perfect—warm sun, open roads, and Stephanie’s arms around me. About halfway there, I pull over at a roadside coffee stand and rest stop, just in case she needs the bathroom.
Or a latte.
We grab cold drinks and sip them side-by-side at a picnic table, our faces tipped up to the sun as a cool coastal breeze whips in from the west, promising fall is right around the corner. The season will be starting soon and there won’t be time for a day-long adventure like this.
But we’re here now. And for the first time in months, I’m not worried about my return to the NHL. Even thoughts of Garcia can’t bug me today. He can plot and scheme all he wants. None of that is going to matter when I show up and leave it all on the ice.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Stephanie says, stirring her matcha with her straw.
“Just thinking about camp starting.”
“Nervous? Excited? Both?” she asks.
“No. Just…ready,” I say. “And relieved. I’ve waited a long time for this chance.”
She narrows her eyes as she nods. “Good. I’m glad you’re not nervous. You shouldn’t be. You’re a grown ass man who’s going to show the rookies how it’s done.”
My chest tightens and suddenly the question I intended to ask her later is popping out of my mouth, “Speaking of grown ass man shit, I wanted to ask if it would be okay to call you my girlfriend. You know, in a couple weeks. When camp starts.”
She blinks, a bemused smile springing to her lips. “In a couple weeks? Not now?”
I exhale a laugh. “No, I mean, yes. Now. Of course, now. I’d like to call you my girlfriend as soon as possible. I just was thinking… At camp… It’ll be easier to justify telling the other players to keep their eyeballs to themselves if I can just say—that’s my girlfriend, don’t fuck with her or I’ll end you in painful ways.”
She sighs. “As a pacifist, I know I shouldn’t find threats of violence on my behalf sexy, but…” She leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek before pulling back to add, “Yes. Of course, you can call me your girlfriend.” Mischief flickers in her eyes. “And don’t worry, I won’t let any of the other women at the concert put their grabby hands on you in the mosh pit. I’ll tell them to keep their horny fingers off my boyfriend.”