Page 25 of The Final Draft

Harvard looks at me in disbelief. “Harper, do you really not know my name? I’m hurt.” He clutches his heart and pretends to be wounded before he hits the button on the blender.

I look around at the four hockey players in confusion. “But you call him Harvard?” I assumed it’s because he went to Harvard.

“Yeah.” Jetsy responds. I’m still very confused. He sighs and shakes his head. At me or Harvard, I’m not sure. He reaches over, stops the blender, and everyone focuses their attention on me. Jetsy speaks slowly as he explains it to me like I’m dense. “Because in the big Yale-Harvard rivalry game, he lost control of the puck and scored the game winning goal for Harvard. Funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He swings an invisible hockey stick like that explains everything.

“Seriously?” I look around, and they’re all laughing, even Harvard. I mean Henry.

“Mind if I use that in my book? It’s funny,” I ask Harvard.

“Be my guest. Make sure you give me a big dick, and I’m happy.” He pours the smoothies, and Mac brings me one.

“Then it would be a fantasy,” Mac says to another round of laughter.

I hope Lawson is vibing with his new team like this. The camaraderie and ball busting are my favorite aspects of this sport, and I want to ensure there’s an accurate representation inmy book. My character is a guy who plays hockey, but it’s not his entire identity. His team is a brotherhood.

“Tell us about this book, CJ,” Jetsy says. “Would it make me blush?”

“Everything makes you blush, asswipe,” Zac yells from the kitchen.

I shake my head at their antics. “Well, my main character is Gavin Snow, a professional hockey player. I’m writing the male character, and my partner is writing the female character. We haven’t gotten far yet: still creating the backstory, basic plot, that sort of thing.”

“Is it a smutty romance?” Mac asks. “I’ve gone out with girls who like those kind of books, and can I tell you, total freaks in the sheets.”

“Seriously?” Zac asks.

“Yeah, man.”

“No, I meant you went out with girls who could read.”

They all crack up. “On that note…” I get up and head toward my room.

“Nooooo,” they all moan.

Jetsy grabs my hand and gives me puppy dog eyes. “Please don’t run off. I’ll make them behave.” Zac scoffs. “I really want to hear about your writing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Harvard says. “It’s cool you write books.”

I sit on the floor and go into a yoga pose.

“What the hell is that?” Zac asks. He’s pointing at me, and I shrug.

“It’s a gomukhasana pose. Or a cow face pose. Want to try it?”

He looks at me and does mental gymnastics, figuring out what goes where. “Nah, I’m good.”

I chuckle at his dismissal. Zac’s not a bad guy. None of them are. These ice gods live a lifestyle very different from usmere mortals. They aren’t how they’re portrayed in the media or romance novels. Not really. Fuck boys, yes. Goofy and immature? Also yes.

“Tell us more about Snowflake,” Jetsy says.

“Who? Oh, is that what you’d call him?” Do I need to give him a new name? Hockey players never call anyone by their actual name. Case in point. Jetsy, Harvard, Mac, and Burnsy.

“Don’t know him,” Jetsy says. It’s that simple.

“Well, he’s a busy hockey player with more talent than sense. He wasn’t looking for love, but he meets a girl that turns his world upside down. But his travel schedule and trust issues are a barrier to making it work.”

Mac leans back on the couch and stretches his arms across the back. “Sounds about right on both accounts.”

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