The Fake Out (Vancouver Storm #2) by Stephanie Archer EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Stephanie Archer
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
RORY
BLOOD POUNDS in my ears as I skate toward the net during my first
game with the Vancouver Storm. We’re tied in overtime, and there’s a
crescendo of noise from the crowd as I rear back and slapshot the puck at
the net.
It pings off the crossbar, and the Vancouver fans let out a collective
groan of disappointment.
Stars score goals. My dad, Canadian hockey legend Rick Miller, has
said it so many times over the years, and it’s what I chant to myself as I
snag the puck out of the mess of players and skate backward until I’m open.
The whistle blows, the game stops, and I look over to the pretty girl
who’s been catching my attention all night.
Hazel Hartley, one of the team physiotherapists—stunning and sharptongued, with long, dark lashes, a plush mouth the perfect shade of pink,
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and the most striking blue-gray eyes I’ve ever seen—sitting behind the net
with her sister, Pippa, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Hazel Hartley, my high school tutor who had a boyfriend, who can’t
stand me and doesn’t date hockey players anymore. Despite Pippa wearing
a Storm jersey with the name of her fiancé, goaltender Jamie Streicher, on
the back, and despite Hartley working for the team, I haven’t seen her in a
jersey since high school. Tonight, my gaze catches on her chestnut hair
pulled up in a ponytail, her pale purple puffer jacket. I bet she’s wearing the
black leggings that always make her ass look incredible.
I wink at her; she rolls her eyes.
I grin; she pretends to yawn.
Something electric and addictive floods my veins at our back-and-forth.
It’s always been like this with us, ever since high school.
The players line up for a face-off and I pull my attention back to the
game. Around the arena, the fans are getting anxious, desperate for a win.
The whistle blows and I’m off, hustling the puck toward the goalie again.
“Let’s go, Miller,” Coach Ward calls from the bench.
Determination fires through me. Tate Ward wanted the top scorer in the
league, so I need to show him what he paid for. I’ve idolized him since he
was a player.
Playing for him this season will fix whatever’s gone wrong in my head.
It has to.
Hayden Owens, a Vancouver defenseman, is open. He has a clear shot
on net, but stars score goals, and I’m not here to pass the puck.
I snap the puck toward the goalie; it hits the back of the net, and the
arena explodes with noise at my game-winning goal. The goal horn
bellows, the arena lights flash, and the rest of the Vancouver team surrounds
me. Over at the bench, guys are cheering.
Even quiet and serious Coach
Ward is clapping. I wait for the consuming, proud feeling in my chest that
this moment should bring.
Nothing. Fans rattle the glass and the team surrounds me, but I
experience blank, silent emptiness.
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