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“That’s because you’re prickly, not because you’re a woman. You’re my little cactus.” Grady pinches my cheek,
If she’s the sunshine, I’m the storm cloud. One of us is the people-pleaser and the other is the people-avoider. Two total opposites who found a friendship that works.
Its giving me and shaden
Hartwell’s hockey skills are on a different planet, and I think I might be a little bit in love with her.
“I’m not blushing. I’m hungover, sore and tired. Leave me alone.” I’m also distracted by the hot redhead who did, in fact, kick my ass on the ice.
“Pretty sure I wanted to bark when I saw her for the first time,”
“Besides, how hard can it be to play on an NHL team? Boys do it.”
I want to set off a confetti cannon. Hang a banner from the rafters of the Civic Center that says I MADE EMERSON HARTWELL SMILE. Put it on a T-shirt and wear it around town.
“Not really. Must be a you thing. A captain/teammate dynamic. I take care of my people, remember?”
I’ve always considered myself a feminist, but there’s something so goddamn sexy about a man in a backwards hat that has me ready to drop to my knees for the patriarchy.
The woman has more walls up than a castle. She’s determined to keep people out, but I’m dead set on getting in.
“You said you wanted me on my knees.” He drops a kiss to my shin, then kneels on the ground in front of me. “And I’ve always liked being a good boy.”
“Sit on my face.” “What?”
“No one’s ever made you come like this because you were with boys before. I’m a man, and I told you I like to eat. Now fucking sit.”
“Open your legs nice and wide. Death by your pussy is the only way I want to go, and I’m not going to stop until you come on my tongue.”
“Come for me, Emmy girl. Let me taste you.”
His grin is stunning, a burst of joy that explodes into a thousand colors across his face. I’ve never seen something so beautiful.
“Do you think this place has olives?” “If they don’t, I brought some.”
“That’s how life and sports go. Some days you’re frustrated as hell, and some days you want to throw in the towel. But as long as it still makes your heart beat, you have to keep showing up. You don’t give up on the things you love just because they get hard.”
“I’m hungry.” “For what, exactly?” I narrow my eyes and take the bag from his hold. “French fries.” “Weird synonym for my dick, but okay,” he jokes.
“Maybe my next tattoo will be the word mine on the back of my right hand.” His fingers dance up my neck and curl around my throat. “So you know who you belong to when you’re with me.”
“You hate that I’m a nice guy, don’t you?” “I despise it.”
“This would be so much easier if I was an asshole, wouldn’t it? Then you could pretend you want to fuck me because you hate me, not because I know how to treat you right. Because I know how to treat you like you deserve.”
“You said I look like I got hit by a truck.” “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful,”
“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.”
‘To the four best women in the league—thank you for all you do. You deserve your name to be shouted from the rooftops.’”
She smiles at me. There are four hundred people are here, and she’s picking me to give out her smiles to. I’m the luckiest bastard in this room.
I never really felt like I had a home. But with Emmy next to me, I think home is wherever she is. A place I’d like to stay forever.
I don’t want her as a teammate or someone I fuck multiple times a week. I want her as so much more—a partner. A girlfriend. My best friend. I don’t know if we lose the game or not. I really don’t fucking care, because I’ve already won. I have her, and she’s the greatest prize of all.
When I’m in Maverick’s arms, I think I’ve finally put my feet on the ground. I think I’ve found someone who might help heal that loneliness that’s followed me for years.
Involved seems like the smallest word in the dictionary to define what we are. Is that the way to describe the person I look forward to seeing every day? Is it the word to use to talk about the woman who makes me smile even when I’m tired and sore and angry after a bad game? Is it the way to tell people that when I look at her, I see the sun and the moon and all the fucking stars?
It seems so insignificant, because what I feel for her is bigger than the sky. The whole fucking planet. You could go all the way to outer space and there still wouldn’t be enough ways to show her how much I adore her.
“Can you—” his throat bobs, and his hand trembles when he wraps his fingers around my thigh. “No one’s ever loved me before—not like this—and I would really like to hear you say it again.”
I have a past, but I have a future now too, and that future is with you.
I’ll take a night in with you over a night out with anyone else any day.”
“I use your name as my password because I’m fucking obsessed with you, Hartwell. Have been since the minute I laid eyes on you.”
