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)
I lift a shoulder. “I mean… yeah. I like the stability. I like having someone to rely on, and I love providing that in return.”
“You’re a real romantic,” Atlas drawls sarcastically. “Ever been in love before?”
“There was someone. A few years ago.”
Atlas straightens, his interest piqued. “And?”
“And it didn’t end well,” I say simply, but Atlas isn’t having it.
“Details, man. What happened?”
I poke at the fruit on my plate, the memory flickering to life. “She cheated. Found out she was hooking up with one of my teammates.”
Atlas’s mouth falls open, and for a second, he just stares at me. “No way. One of your teammates? That’s the ultimate no-go zone. You don’t cross that line.” He grins mischievously. “Second only to hooking up with your teammate’s little sister.”
“Yeah, well,” I say with a humorless chuckle, “he didn’t get the memo.”
“What did you do?” Atlas asks in disbelief.
“I beat the crap out of him,” I admit. “Not my proudest moment, but he had it coming.”
“Fuck,” he mutters low. “How in the hell did you play with him after that?”
I grin at my friend. “Lucky for me, the asshole wasn’t that good of a player. He got sent down to the minors not long after, and as far as I know, that’s where he still is.”
Atlas shakes his head, his expression a mix of shock and approval. “Damn. That’s rough. But I gotta say, I’m impressed it didn’t turn you into a paranoid trust-issues guy like Farren. Most people would’ve sworn off relationships after something like that.”
I shrug, picking up my fork to finish my fruit. “I don’t know. I just don’t think you can lump all people into the same category. One person screws up, yeah, it sucks. But it doesn’t mean everyone’s like that.”
Although I’m pretty sure that’s the root problem of Farren’s trust issues. She’s taking one experience and applying it to all.
Atlas studies me, then nods. “Fair enough. Still, I’d have a hard time not letting that mess with my head.”
“It did for a while,” I admit. “But you move on. You learn from it. And you don’t let someone else’s bad choices dictate how you live your life.”
Atlas rests his arms on the table. “Sounds like Farren needs that lesson. You think she’s worth breaking through those walls?”
“Yeah,” I say without hesitation, meeting his gaze. “I think she is.”
Atlas smirks, shaking his head. “You’re a better man than me, North. I’d have bailed by now.”
I laugh, my tension easing a little. “Maybe. Or maybe you just haven’t met the right challenge yet.”
Atlas chuckles, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to that.”
We clink glasses, but as we settle into the flow of conversation, the weight of Farren’s struggles and my own resolve to be patient with her linger in the back of my mind.
Maybe Atlas is right.
Maybe I need to push her to take the leap. She’s either in or she’s out.
We talk about the games I missed while I was sick. Atlas gives me the rundown—who scored, who screwed up, and how the second line held up without me. I watched it all play out on TV, but it’s very different on the ice.
“By the way.” I set my fork down and lean forward again. “What was the reaction when Penn picked that fight?”
The easy atmosphere between us dissipates instantly, replaced by a heavy undercurrent of worry. Atlas blows out a breath, shaking his head. “Man, it was intense. Of course, Bain and King jumped in to prevent him from getting hurt, and Penn was pissed about it. Yelled at them to back off, which they weren’t going to do.”
“He’s too valuable to the team and that’s their jobs… to protect our scorers. What did he expect them to do?”
It’s a rhetorical question, because there was no other choice in that situation.
“At any rate,” Atlas continues in a low voice, “Coach busted his chops about it in the locker room, but Penn just ignored him. It felt like a powder keg ready to explode. I’m beginning to think the guy might be a little nuts.”
I take a slow sip of my shake, organizing my thoughts. I hadn’t planned on sharing this information since it really doesn’t mean anything but my worry about Penn is increasing. “Farren found some stuff about his past—nothing concrete, but it raises questions.”
Atlas’s brow furrows as he picks at a fry. “What kind of questions? Like, personal stuff?”
“Yeah,” I say, hesitating. “She came across an article about a hazing scandal on his junior team. A kid died, and some players were charged, but Penn’s name wasn’t mentioned at all.”
Atlas sits back, eyes wide. “I remember that. That was Penn’s team?”
“Yup.”
Atlas whistles in surprise. “That’s some heavy shit.”
“Yeah,” I agree, my voice low. “If he was involved—even tangentially—that kind of thing can stick with you. And if he wasn’t, just being on that team could’ve been a nightmare. I don’t want to speculate without more facts though.”