Pucking Around With The Captain Mga Nobela at Kwento

The crowds sighed as Adira tantrums like a kid. “You’re too slow!” “I told you to kick it!” “You wasted my voice!” I pursed my lips and shake my head. My eyes widened when I saw Captain already kicking the ball. I gasps couldn’t believe he had snatched the ball from the opponent. Our group roared and each of them shouted his name. “The ruthless captain was now advancing the ball!” the announcer’s voice echoed in the stadium. How come he got it that fast?! “Speed,” Caius whistled.

The men rushed him, cheering and laughing. But when Victor stepped into the room, the energy drained instantly. The men froze, staring as if he were a two-headed snake. "Man, maybe all this smoke’s gone to my head, because I swear I’m not seeing the Captain right now," one said. "You’re not wrong, that is the captain," Aaron snickered. "Holy shit," Wyatt exclaimed. "I thought he was joking," "So did I," Knox muttered, drawing every head to him. "Well, I wasn’t," Victor replied, walking further in and stopping beside Knox.

He passed the puck to Noah, circled behind Darius, and received it again before the opposing players could close in. Then he shot. The puck struck the back of the net. The whistle blew. The players shouted. I lowered my camera. "What the hell?" Noah skated toward him, pointing accusingly. "That was unnecessary, Captain!" Leander merely shrugged. "You left the opening." "I left an opening, not an invitation to humiliate me in front of my teammates!" "Learn the difference." I lifted my camera again. Click. That one was going into the collection. The next drill was faster.

"A few years ago. I ran into him at a charity event. He was alone, standing in the corner. I went over to say hello, and he asked me how you were. If you were okay." I stared at her. "What did you tell him?" "I told him you were doing fine. That you'd become a journalist. That you were making a name for yourself." She shrugged. "He didn't say anything after that. Just nodded and walked away." I didn't know what to say. Seven years. Seven years and he still asked about me. Sienna leaned closer. Her voice dropped. "Be careful, Emily. Daniel isn't the boy you remember. And this town isn't the same either. People talk. And if you're here to dig into Carter Development, you're going to make enemi

he taunted. What the fuck is this guy’s problem ? “Don’t narrate your own pathetic story while taking my name, Mister. I can beat your cocky ass in the pool any time,” I smirked. “If you don’t know, I am the captain of this club and I don’t waste my time with noobs,” he replied back but there was still an amused grin on his face that said that he was just messing around with me and that he did not mean any of the things he was saying.

“You might want to consider adding a 'please' to that request.” The captain tried to push my boot away. I let him, then took my foot off his chest and stepped back two paces so he could stand up. As he came up in a rush, I raised my hands and let him grab my wrist, although his grip was clumsy from anger. Rolling my arm forward, I broke free from his hold and tapped his shoulder with my knuckles, making him flinch. I then reached past his guard and flicked his ear. It was a small, child’s taunt that made the line snickered.

I'm so near, yet so out of reach. I crack a punch down his jaw and the pain that goes through my hand makes me hiss. "Fuck!" I shake my hand and fingers furiously to get them numb while I direct a glare at the captain "Is your jaw made of fucking iron? How am I the one in pain?" Captain Pem stares at me, bewildered. His hand rises slowly to touch his jaw, and when he does, I see him wince. My punch did hurt him. Hah, good to know.

Coach barked after I missed a clean pass. I didn’t answer. “Eyes up!” he snapped. I skated back into position, jaw tight, chest burning with irritation that had nowhere to go. Lyon skated up beside me during a water break, nudging my shoulder with his glove. “You good, man?” “Fine.” “That’s your third ‘fine’ today.” I shot him a look. “Drop it.” He raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just don’t bite my head off.”

When the ref drops the puck, the game officially turns into a battle between our speed and their experience. Every time I try to sprint past a defender, hulk-guy who I'm finding out is their captain is already there. It’s frustrating. I’m skating as hard as I can, my heart thumping against my ribs, but the alumni move the puck in perfect circles. They don't even look winded.

"I’m just not in the mood for the theatrics tonight. Leave it." "I can't just 'leave it,'" she countered, stepping closer, her scent—sweet, too much and cloying filling my senses. It was a suffocating smell. "We aren't the only ones playing, and if we sit this out, people will talk. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be if the captain and the dean's daughter lost their spot because you decided to have a tantrum? Just play the part, Knox. You’ve done it a thousand times before."