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(And for the girlies who love to see the six-foot-four NHL captain get on his knees and beg like a good boy–Maverick Miller is for you).
“Fuck you.” I put my hands on my hips. “Don’t talk about Fernie and Freddie Ficus like that.”
“Christ on a mother fucking cracker.”
“Pretty sure I wanted to bark when I saw her for the first time,”
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.
“The flattery continues. Keep it up, and I’m going to develop a complex.”
“We all do dumb shit when we’re young and in love. Play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. Mine happened to be an asshole who liked to make me feel small while he was the one with the tiny dick.”
“She seems like the stabby type, doesn’t she?”
“The fuck is a chortle? Is that a Pokémon?”
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.
“Nonchalance isn’t in your vocabulary, is it, Miller?”
“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.”
Despite everything he’s been through, he sends me a text every morning saying ‘great news! Today is the best day of your life!’”
You have a gentle soul that’s been beaten up and broken through no fault of your own. I’m so sorry anyone’s ever made you feel like you weren’t worth keeping for more than a night. You are and you’re wonderful and… and one day, when you want to settle down, you’re going to make someone really happy, and they’re never going to leave.
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.
“You might want to call the commissioner and start apologizing, Coach. We’re going to be in a heap of fucking trouble when we’re finished here tonight.”
“The only thing I have planned, Hud, is that I’m going to spend fifty-eight minutes in the locker room after I get tossed, and you all are going to have to play without me.”
I look at Hudson. “Think you could start a fight for me?” “You want me to start it?” “I know you’re not an instigator, but I’m going to be the one to finish it.”
“Take your coat off so I can see who you’re wearing, please.” “So bossy.” I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her arm, turning around so she can see the name stitched on the back. “What do you think?” “Oh, shit.” She laughs, and her camera clicks two dozen times. “You’re going to break the internet.” “What?” I face her and frown. “Fuck. Did I do something wrong?” “No, sweetie. You did something very, very right. It’s always the girl wearing the guy’s jersey, not the other way around. This is so cool.”
“Maverick. What are… Why are you wearing my jersey?” “Because it’s Heroes and Legends night. You’re my hero, Hartwell, and you’re definitely going to become a legend. You already are, but technically I don’t think we can classify one season in the NHL as legendary. Kind of bullshit if you ask me. Also, I distinctly remember you asking when I was planning on having your name across my back, so here we are.”
We can’t help who we love, and if you’re going to fall in love with anyone, he’s the best choice,”
“A toast.” Maven lifts her glass in the air. We all follow suit, and she smiles. “To the good men with good dicks who treat us right. And to the good dicks out there who haven’t found their way to us yet. May they hurry up and get here so everyone is happy and satisfied.”
