Kiss and Don’t Tell by Meghan Quinn EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Authors: Meghan Quinn
- Language: English
- Genre: Sports Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
PACEY
“Dude, you’re killing the vibe,” Hornsby says from the pool. “Don’t make
me be the dad and make me turn off the Wi-Fi.”
Ignoring him, I watch the highlight clip on my phone one more time.
Body fake to the left, deke right, crossover, shoots to upper left pocket . . .
and he fucking scores.
It was simple.
Any teenager could pull off that move. Hell, I wouldn’t even call it a
move, I would call it basic hockey skills.
And yet, I didn’t stop it.
“Watch it all you want. It’s not going to change anything,” Taters, our
right wing, says.
“But how, how did we miss this block?” I toss my phone on my large
pool lounger and lean back, pushing my hand through my hair. “It was
fucking rudimentary, and I let it go right between my legs.”
“That one shot didn’t cost us the playoffs,” Taters answers. “Everyone
had a part in that massive failure of a game.”
Yeah, but that one shot was the winning goal, which means the blame
still falls on me.
“Nothing you can do about it now, though,” says Eli Hornsby, the
prettiest fucking defenseman in the game. He places his hands behind his
head and lounges back, accepting the loss and allowing himself to relax.
Not sure how he can. I’m still reeling from our loss and drop out of the
playoffs. “And what’s rule number one when we get to the cabin?” he
continues.
“No fucking hockey,” Posey says before he runs, jumps, and
cannonballs into the pool.
Every summer, after the season, me and my boys head up to Banff,
Canada, to Silas Taters’s cabin—well, mansion, but he calls it a cabin—and
we de-stress. We forget about the season, soak up the sun and picturesque
mountains, and just . . . fuck around.
The cabin is the perfect place to do that, with views of the Canadian
Rocky Mountains, the small-town feel of Banff, being away from
Vancouver city life, and far from any sort of training facility—besides the
million-dollar gym in the “basement” of the “cabin.”
But this year, I’m not quite in the mood to relax. Not when we were so
close. So fucking close for our third championship win. I wanted that win.
I’m not sure how much time I have left in front of the net, and after we
were so close to making it to the finals, for a chance to hold the Stanley Cup
over my head again and skate around the ice, knowing that my team, the
Vancouver Agitators, are number one—fuck, it burns my soul.
I thought we had it this year. We were the sure win.
A stacked team.
The favorite.
And we fucking blew it.
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