Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Her grin turns wry. “Pretty sure I evened things up when I took you down on the ice.” She looks away. “I should head home. I have an early shift at Boones. Maybe next time.” She turns toward the parking lot. The sun has already set, so she’ll have to ride home in the dark.
I break rank from the group. “I’ll give you a lift.”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to do that.” She adjusts her grip on her hockey stick. The tape needs replacing.
“I don’t mind. I gotta be up early for skate practice anyway.” When I picked her up, we were still a few miles out from the arena. A half-hour bike ride in the dark isn’t the safest.
Seems like she’s on the fence, but when lightning streaks across the sky, she relents. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks. That’d be great.”
Lovey starts the hug train with Winter before she moves to me, whispering that we’ll talk later. For sure she has questions. Winter and I load our bags in the back of the Jeep and climb inside. The temperature has dropped, and the promise of a summer storm makes the air feel electric.
“I’m sorry I’m taking you away from your friends. And I’m really sorry about what happened on the ice earlier. That was all me.” Winter clasps and unclasps her hands, like she isn’t quite sure what to do with them.
“Eh, don’t feel bad. Hits happen on the ice, especially when you’re playing with a bunch of retired professionals. As for my friends, I see them all the time, and I do have to be up early, so it was a good excuse to get out of there. Otherwise, I’d be up until midnight and feel like a bag of ass in the morning. Should I head toward where I picked you up?”
“Yeah, I’m not too far from there.”
I pull out of the spot and turn on to the road that leads to the lakeside cottages. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“I’m still kind of reeling that I got to play hockey with all these legends. So surreal. And you being a figure skater also threw me for a loop.” She gives me a sidelong glance.
“I don’t fit the profile.” The beard I lose for competitions, but I don’t have one for a few more weeks. “Did my dad try to recruit you to his women’s team?”
“He mentioned the program they run at the arena, and he gave me a bunch of pamphlets.” She runs her hands over her thighs. “Hockey’s expensive, though.”
“Yeah. It can be. Figure skating is the same.” Between the ice time, costumes, and lessons, it can cost tens of thousands a year, especially at a competitive level.
“How’d you get into figure skating when your dad is a hockey player?”
“My mom’s the figure skater.”
“You were destined for a life on blades.” Winter shifts so she’s looking at me instead of the road. “It’s kinda cool that you went the figure-skater route.”
“I grew up in a world full of hockey, surrounded by professionals. Maybe the natural inclination should have been to step into my dad’s shoes, but he’s a legend in his sport. My mom didn’t get the chance to do that in hers, even though she had the ability and the passion for figure skating. So I went left instead of right.” It’s a tidy explanation for why I chose door B.
Winter fingers the end of her braid. “Why didn’t your mom get the chance? Did she hurt herself or something?”
“No.” I tap the wheel. “Financial constraints.”
“Oh.” Her tone implies surprise. “That’s shitty.”
“She didn’t let it hold her back. And it tipped the scales in her favor when I was deciding between hockey and figure skating. Besides, living in the shadow of my dad and all his friends seemed like an unforgiving path. Sometimes the road less traveled is the better one.”
“Less potholes?”
I glance over and find her eyes fixed on me. “Something like that, yeah.”
She points to the windshield. “You can turn right at the T-intersection.”
I flick on my blinker and slow the Jeep. “You must live close to the Kingstons. They’re on this road too.”
“I haven’t had a chance to meet many of the neighbors yet.” She smiles, but it looks strained.
“You will if you play with us again.” Which I hope will happen sooner rather than later.
“That’d be cool.” She taps restlessly on her knee. “You can pull over here.”
We’re in the middle of a dark stretch of road. It’s packed gravel, off the main road that connects one side of the lake to the other. “Where’s your driveway?”
“Just up there. It’s narrow, though, and the trees need to be trimmed back. I don’t want you to get stuck. Plus with my bike on the roof rack, it’ll make all kinds of noise, and my mom has to get up early for work.”