Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Let’s focus out there,” Coach Moss says, raising his voice over the chatter. “Let’s bring one home for San Antonio!”
“Yeah!” the boys shout, pounding lockers and smacking sticks on the benches.
I feel my pulse thundering in excitement. I’ve come to like these boys. I’ve watched each and every one of them grow throughout the season.
I want to see them win.
“In the words of the great Edvard Svensson,” Coach Moss says with a grin. “Let’s go grab that greatness by the balls!”
Everyone cheers and laughs as they head to the door. I’m standing beside it and each one of them acknowledges me as they pass with a nod of their head or a smile.
Our goalie, Nolan, is the last one out. He stops and nods respectfully. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. VanMorgan. It’s been the best year of my life.”
“Mine too,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s finish it strong.”
He grins. “You got it, boss.”
CHAPTER NINE
Brantley
“Good luck,” Riley says, stepping onto her toes for a kiss. I kiss her sweet mouth and hold her tight, not wanting to let go just yet.
This is the part I hate the most—separating from her.
“Come watch the game with me,” I say, not letting her go.
“What do you mean? In your private box?”
We haven’t talked about this, but why not? We’re engaged, so people will find out we’re together eventually. Why not now?
“Can you imagine the media firestorm that would set off? Half the reporters in the country are here.”
“I don’t care what anyone says about it,” I say, cupping her hand. “After the moment I met you, this is the most important moment of my life and I want you by my side.”
She looks skeptical, but she’s thinking about it.
“I don’t think two owners have ever sat together during the Stoney Cup championships,” she says.
“I don’t think two owners have ever been sleeping together either,” I say with a grin. “It will be a first for many things.”
“Do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Being with you, my love, is always a good idea.”
She smiles, steps up, and kisses me. “Okay. I’ll sit with you.”
We hold hands as we leave my office and walk into the hallway. I’m not sure if the word has gotten out about our status, but we certainly get a lot of shocked looks as we walk to my private box holding hands.
I settle in the front row with my girl as the players warm up on the ice.
“Well, hello,” Zara says to Riley with a big smile on her face as she comes over. “I’m so happy you’ll be joining us for the game.” She leans in close to whisper. “And congratulations on your engagement. How exciting! If you need a flower girl, I have an excellent throwing arm.”
“I’ll keep you in mind,” Riley says, chuckling. “But you might have to fight my eight-year-old niece for the job.”
Zara flexes her bicep. “Bring it on.”
The girls start chatting about the wedding, which we’ll have on my yacht, so I turn my focus onto the ice. The boys look good. They look healthy and excited to win.
I’m surprised at how on edge I am. I’m having a hard time sitting still.
It’s a win-win situation, I tell myself. If the Hyenas win, great. And if we lose, Riley will win and I’ll be thrilled for her.
Still, I do have a favorite…
After the national anthem and all of the ceremony stuff, the arena is buzzing with excitement. It’s game seven in San Antonio, winner take all.
The boys skate onto the ice and it feels like my pulse is going to burst, it’s racing so fast.
“Good luck,” Riley whispers when the game is about to start.
“But not too much luck,” I say with a grin. She smiles and takes my hand, squeezing it.
Whatever happens, I’ll have my Riley. And that’s all I need.
The arena quiets, everyone too excited to breathe, as the referee skates over with the puck.
“Here we go!” Zara says before screeching like a banshee. “Go Hyenas, Aaarrooooo!!!”
The referee throws the puck down and the boys explode into action. Sebastian Kemp fights for the puck and wins. He passes it back to Edvard Svensson who immediately passes it to Harris Sutton.
I keep my eyes glued on the ice, heart pounding as I watch.
No one scores in the first period. The goalies are too good. We have the best goalie in the league, Nolan Barlowe, but the Vipers have the second-best goalie, Miles Ackerman. They both make several fantastic stops.
No one scores in the second period either, but something even better happens. Carson Rochon slams into Austin from behind, giving him a cheap shot, and Tucker McKinstry takes it personally. He charges over, throwing his gloves onto the ice.
“Oh yeah!” Zara says as all twenty-four thousand hockey fans jump to their feet, us included. “Kick his ass, Mother Tucker!”