Page 24 of Falling for the Pucking Bad Boy

Exhaustion creeps into my veins.

The season is nothing but plane trips and bus rides, but I love the sport. I love my team.

I love everything that comes along with it.

RORY: Three games. You win them, and I’m yours.

You will be.

I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to make that happen, but my team couldn’t deny that me settling down would keep the press off our ass.

And they’d get over it, eventually, right?

WELLS: It’s already in the bag, Snowflake.

WELLS: I’m already planning it in my head.

RORY: Where would you be?

WELLS: Chicago. And, just so we’re clear, I get you for two days?

RORY: You’re pushing it.

WELLS: You’re asking me to win three more games against the team tearin’ other teams up on the ice. It’s going to be brutal.

RORY: Fine.

RORY: But no one can know.

WELLS: No one can know.

RORY: I’m serious, Wells. My father already has enough pressure on him.

I can understand that.

Coach Sellers is a talented man who brought a low-level team up to compete. Even we have a hard time with the Blizzard sometimes. But one loss can put a microscope on you, and I’m honestly not looking to fuck shit up around her life or mine.

I want to see her.

Something is going on here—between us—that I can’t explain. I’ve never kept thinking about a girl this long.

Not since high school when Ashley Dean broke my heart and went on to date my best friend.

Since then, I’ve just kept moving. It wasn’t like I was against dating; I never saw the point, especially since my schedule is jam-packed with hockey.

WELLS: Our secret is safe with me, Snowflake. I wouldn’t dream of jeopardizing it.

RORY: Don’t fuck it up.

WELLS: I’ll need your favorite food, so I don’t.

RORY: Too many to list.

WELLS: Nice. I like a woman who can eat.

RORY: I like a man who can eat.

WELLS: Damn! Oh, you know I can, baby. Anything you don’t like?

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