Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
She hops out of the car and turns back toward me. “Give me five minutes. Don’t fall asleep out here.”
I chuckle as she jogs into the building. Sitting back, I let out a slow breath. There’s something about this moment, her willingness to take this step with me, even if it’s small—that feels monumental.
I’m not just spinning my wheels with her anymore. This is progress. And damn it, I’m going to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
CHAPTER 15
North
The locker room churns with the usual pre-game energy—players cracking jokes, the clack of gear being tossed into lockers, and the faint scent of liniment in the air. It’s routine, comforting in its familiarity, but my thoughts keep drifting elsewhere.
Namely, to Farren.
Our rock-climbing adventure was epic. Farren, gripping the climbing wall, her determination etched into every movement. I can still hear the laughter echoing between us, see the flush on her cheeks when she finally reached the top. She was amazing—strong, funny, and just a little vulnerable in a way she’d probably hate me for noticing.
And last night… God, last night. Farren in my kitchen, cooking dinner like she’d always belonged there. We ate on the couch, sharing bites of her surprisingly good stir-fry while a movie played in the background. There wasn’t anything dramatic or over-the-top about it, it was just us.
Easy.
Natural.
And for a single guy who’s spent most of his adult life on the road, that kind of quiet intimacy felt like the rarest gift.
“Yo, North!” Foster’s voice pulls me back to the present, which is a good thing because if I started thinking of how hot we were between the sheets after the movie, an embarrassing reaction might occur. “You planning to stare off into space all day, or are you gonna put your gear on?”
“Shut up,” I grumble, sitting on the bench to tie up my skates.
He snickers and nudges Atlas, sitting next to him. “Must’ve been a hell of a night. You’ve got that dazed, ‘I’m in trouble’ look.”
I ignore him, focusing on my laces, but then Rafferty pipes up, too casual to be innocent. “Speaking of nights… don’t you have some news to share, North?”
My head jerks up, and I give him a sharp look. I was hoping to ease into this. “Dude!”
Rafferty leans back against the bench, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, man. Might as well get it out there.”
Foster perks up immediately, his grin wide. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
I sigh, rubbing my jaw. I had every intention of telling these knuckleheads about me and Farren, but I wanted to do it on my own terms. There’s no point in avoiding it now. “Fine. Farren and I… we’ve been hanging out.”
Atlas nearly chokes on his water. “Hanging out? What does that even mean?”
“It’s casual,” I clarify, shooting a glance at Rafferty, who looks far too amused for my liking.
Foster whistles low. “Casual? As in dating a teammate’s sister casual?” He looks between us, eyes shifting back and forth with confusion. “Are we in the Twilight Zone?”
Atlas tilts toward Rafferty, grinning. “And you’re cool with this? Seriously?”
Rafferty shrugs, his expression exaggeratedly indifferent. “He’s North. He’s decent enough. Could’ve been worse.”
“Worse?” Foster snorts. “Like who?”
“Like you,” Rafferty shoots back, and the group erupts into laughter.
I roll my eyes, adjusting my gloves. “Can we focus on the game now?”
“Not a chance,” Foster says, his grin wicked. “This is way more entertaining.”
The teasing continues for another few minutes, lighthearted but relentless, until Coach walks in carrying a small package. The laughter fades as he scans the room, his eyes locking on one player.
“Penn,” Coach says, holding out the package. “This was left up front for you.”
Our reclusive star first-line center, who has been sitting quietly before his cubby, already fully dressed, freezes as his head slowly rises. He looks at the package like it’s a bomb about to go off but eventually stands to take it. The rest of the room falls silent, everyone watching as he examines the brown paper bag with a red bow on it. There’s something ominous about a gift in an ordinary brown bag with a shiny bow on it that raises my hackles.
Penn reaches inside and pulls out a white teddy bear wearing a bright scarlet sash that says Happy Anniversary in silver glitter.
“What the hell is that about?” Atlas murmurs, so low I think he’s talking more to himself.
Penn doesn’t hear him or if he does, he ignores him. He opens the attached card, his expression unreadable, but something shifts in his posture—his shoulders tightening, his jaw clenching. Whatever’s written on that card isn’t good.
Foster, always the bold one, speaks up. “What’s the special occasion?”
Penn’s gaze snaps to him, sharp and cold. Without a word, he walks to the garbage can, tosses the bear and the card inside, and strides out of the locker room, the door swinging shut behind him.