Face Off (D.C. Stars, #1)

by Chelsea Curto

“It’s a shame it’s only going to be ninety-nine percent effective now. The only thing I want to do with you, pretty boy, is kick your ass on the ice,” she whispers. I swallow and try to get my bearings. She’s so close, and I fucking love it. “You think I’m pretty?” “You would only hear that part, wouldn’t you?”

A smile—the tiniest, faintest smile I’ve ever seen—pulls at her lips, and I’m the proudest motherfucker in the world.

“Well, well, well. Are you reading up on me, Hartwell? Writing my name in your diary?” “I was using the photos as a dartboard. Your face was the bull’s-eye.” “Did you hit your target?” “Right between the eyes. Every time.” “Atta girl,” I say, and the pink on her skin changes to crimson as it moves down her neck.

Emerson snorts, and something sharp slices through me at the sound. I don’t like that he’s making her laugh. I don’t like that she thinks he’s funny, and I liked it better when it was just the two of us.

stare at her, and that fear from earlier is back. “You could’ve died.” “I wouldn’t have died. I can take care of myself. I made it to the bathroom, didn’t I?” “For fuck’s sake, woman.” I lift her out of the tub and wrap her in a towel. “No one is saying you can’t. I want to help, Emmy. Let me help. Share the load with me. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

My final blow is to his eye, and I hope I break his eye socket. “And that’s for getting to her before me.”

“You’re smiling right now, Red. You’ve got these little wrinkles around your eyes, and they’re the cutest damn thing. They make me want to stick around for a while.” “How long?” Forever. “Until you get sick of me.” “I’m not sure I’ll ever get sick of you,” Emmy admits. “You’re my favorite person in the world.” “Funny. You’re my favorite person too.”