Stand and Defend (Lakes Hockey, #4)

by Sloane St. James

“When’s the next flight?” “When I arrive. I think Bryan can pay for a charter, don’t you?” I smirk. Atta girl.

If I screamed, would anyone even hear me?

“Let me take off his ring.”

I intervened because I was defending Laasko . . . but as soon as I knocked his helmet off, all I could picture was Bryan Davenport’s face.

“Sorry . . . I don’t know what happened,” she stammers. The kiss of my life happened.

“You can cry until you reach the next stop sign. Then you’re done.”

Being a villain sounds like more fun than being a victim.

“But when you tilt your head up like that for me, I know you’d rather wear my hand around your neck than anything from Harry Winston.

“Maybe I should tattoo a diamond necklace on the back of my hand . . . that way I can dress you up whenever I want.”

“Maybe she’s his lucky charm . . .” she says to the group. “Nah, if anything, it’s his first goal jersey.” I pluck the thick material. All three stare at me. “What?” Do I have something on my face? “He gave you that jersey?” Micky asks. Raleigh points at what I’m wearing. “That’s his first goal jersey?” “He didn’t give it to me. It’s just to borrow for the game,” I explain. “Oh girl. Come on.” Birdie’s mouth tips up on one side as she smirks at me. “No, it’s not like that.” I shake my head adamantly. “No, girl it is that. Plain and simple,” Raleigh says. “He’s probably got a mountain of jerseys at home, all the guys do. If it didn’t mean anything, he would have given you one of those. But to give you that jersey?”

Luckiest shot in the world. The fans lose their goddamn minds. I skate by and point at her. You.

“Cam, what are you doing?” “Kissing you.” He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in, doing exactly that.

“Where did you meet?” Rhys asks. “Remember that wedding I was the best man in?” “Ohhh, shit, Banksy bagged himself a bridesmaid!” Shep shouts. I shake my head and smirk. “She’s the bride.”

“You can call me all the names you want, talk to whoever you want, but at the end of the night, we leave together. I leave with you. You leave with me.”

“I was joking. Just trying to get a rise out of you.” “You got a rise out of me, baby.”

“By the way, I saw the game. I saw what you did.” “That’s nothing. You should have seen what else I did that night.”

“That is worth fighting for. It’s worth bloody knuckles. I will never make you feel the way he did. I will never try to control you or own you.

“For what it’s worth, I like her,” Hailey calls after me. “Me too,” Alexis adds. And myself makes three.

Cramps he says . . . Unbelievable.”

“Tell me you've felt this with another man. Lie to me, I dare you.

She’s under my skin, burrowed into my soul, and I hate it. Goddamn it, Jordan! Let me be your type!

There are moments in life you desperately want to hold on to, wish you could freeze time and space, bottle it up and take it with you. Open and breathe it in whenever you need to remember what it felt like to be alive.

“She’s pregnant, man.” He shrugs. “She’s all up in her feelings. An ASPCA commercial came on the other day—shit, I thought I was going to have to take her to the hospital. You wouldn’t believe how many fucking dogs we’re sponsoring now.”