Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
What the fuck was I thinking?
Like it or not, this wasn’t forever.
My agent left a message three weeks later.
“I have an offer for you…ECHL. One year contract with the Syracuse Spiders, and on to the AHL, baby. Obviously, that’s not a guarantee, but hey, this is a good team and a great opportunity. Call me, Jett. Things are looking up!”
CHAPTER 20
MALCOLM
My job as a teaching assistant required me to track records, review assignments, and occasionally step in for the professor. I TA’d for Professors Finkwell and Higgins on top of my graduate studies, which was…a lot. I liked being busy, though, and I loved working with undergraduate students. Especially the curious ones.
“I was confused by the kinematic equation for displacement in the textbook example, but I think I get it now,” Professor Finkwell’s student gushed. I think her name was Sara or Tara. “Thank you, Mr. Maloney.”
I pushed my glasses to the bridge of my nose and smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was able to clear it up for you. Sometimes it’s just a matter of asking a question aloud.”
“That’s true. Do you mind if I ask another one?” The young woman pushed her long dark hair over her shoulder, her gaze turning suddenly earnest at my nod of consent. “Are you still tutoring Jett Erickson? I see you with him a lot and…I don’t know…it seems like you’re good…friends.”
I hadn’t expected that. My brows hit my hairline, and my glasses slipped again. It wasn’t as if no one had questioned our association, but it hadn’t happened in a while and not so suspiciously. She probably thought I had an inappropriate crush on Jett and if so, she was a hundred percent correct. The fact that it was mutual and that we were the sort of “friends” who shared itineraries would shock the heck out of her.
For example, I knew that within the hour Jett was due to hop on a bus for Granville to play his first game since his MRI. He was nervous and excited, and I wished I didn’t have to teach. I would have loved to be there cheering him on in the audience. And I think I could have persuaded Layla to join me.
Sidenote: Layla still didn’t know what to think about Jett and me. I’d confessed that I was hot for the hockey player after he’d shown up on our doorstep with soup. I’d also confessed that we had a mutually beneficial arrangement—top secret. She was probably worried about me harboring unrealistic hopes, but other than issuing a fiery threat to chop Jett’s balls off if he hurt me, she’d kept quiet. Remarkable, really.
“Oh, uh…we are friends. Mr. Erickson assisted me with research pertaining to my thesis. As you know, measuring angular momentum is pertinent to studying rotation, motion and—” I coughed, and made myself stop before the poor girl’s eyes popped out of her head. “Well, hockey is a popular sport.”
“For sure. And Jett’s cool…and popular. I’m just surprised…never mind.” She stepped aside with a wave at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Thanks again.”
Professor Finkwell waited for the classroom door to close. “And who is the popular Jett?”
“The hockey player,” I replied, bristling at the inadequate description. He was far more than his sport to me.
“Oh, yes.” The older man chuckled. “That student’s reaction alone is the reason I know your thesis will be a smash hit. I imagine thousands of students will happily become unwittingly engrossed in physics by hockey proxy.”
My laugh was tinny and hollow, but the professor had moved on. There were papers to grade, a conference he was interested in attending, another he’d been asked to speak at. I hiked my bag on my shoulder and inched toward the door, hoping to signal an end to the conversation without resorting to tapping my watch.
My buzzing cell came to the rescue. “Sorry, Professor, but I have to take this.”
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Maloney.”
I moved into the hallway and peeked at the new message.
Call me. I’m getting on the bus in fifteen minutes. I have something to tell you.
I could do better than that. I was halfway across campus, heading for the rink, unthinking. Emphasis on unthinking. His teammates were used to seeing me around, but it would have been smarter and easier to call…especially since they were leaving.
It wasn’t like me to act impulsively. I blamed my interaction with the hockey-loving student who’d reminded me Jett and I were from different planets.
I stopped at the large elm on the path to the rink and scrolled his contact info.
“Yo, Maloney! Is that you?”
I glanced up at the handsome hockey player striding forward, a huge bag slung across his shoulder. I did my best to control my facial features, but his smile was contagious. It didn’t matter that I’d spent the night in his bed and woken up next to him, grumbling affectionately about blanket hogs and suggesting a game of rocks, paper, scissors to see who should have to make coffee—he lost, by the way. I just needed to see him.