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“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.”
Finders keepers.
She’s hands down the hottest woman I’ve ever been with. I love that she didn’t wait for me to give something to her—she knew what she wanted and she fucking took it.
I might kill you for those. They’re my favorite pair. Me Interesting. Mine too.
“I popped into the bodega on our way here and grabbed some.” “Why would you do that?” “Because I remembered you said you like martinis. Can’t make a good drink without a garnish.” He sets the jar down and nudges it toward me. “Take them home with you.”
“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.”
“Yeah.” I smile at the bartender when he hands me my drink. I open the jar of olives and drop two in the glass. “It doesn’t feel like I am anymore.”
“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.” His fingers toy with the strap of my tank top, and he drags it down my arm, all the way to my elbow. “We both know two times isn’t going to be enough.”
“Take me to church, Emmy,” he murmurs. His hands run up my thighs and squeeze my hips. “Please.” “I didn’t think you were a religious guy,” I whisper, and I sink down on him in a bleary fog. “I’m not.” Maverick bites the soft skin near my shoulder as I take him another inch deeper, and my breath catches in my throat. “But I imagine you’re what heaven feels like, so I’m a converted man.”
Perfect. I’m perfect. Another word no one’s ever called me, and I hold it close to my chest.
I love when she’s riled up. I love when there’s a blaze to her words and fire in her tone. But I also like her like this. Quiet. Soft. So fucking pretty with droplets on her eyelashes and her mouth curling around a pleased sigh.
No one’s ever been so nice to me before, especially when I’ve felt small and uncomfortable and nothing like myself, and that’s disorienting.
“Between our hookups and the text messages you send me, when would I have time to bring someone to my hotel room? You ride my cock so well, Red, and I can’t keep my eyes open after you’re finished with me. I don’t have the physical capacity to fuck someone else, nor do I want to.”
“I don’t need anyone else when I have you.”
“I’m more than okay with it. I meant what I said—you’re enough, Emmy, and what we’re doing right now makes me happy. Vomit and all.” My heart flutters dangerously in my chest. “It makes me happy too.” “Look at us.” He grins. “Two happy people.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and his fingers dance over my knee. “Guess I’ve been too busy looking at you.”
I haven’t had a sip of alcohol yet, but already, there’s this bubbly, fizzy excitement in me. That rush you get when you’re with people who make you feel good.
To the four best women in the league—thank you for all you do. You deserve your name to be shouted from the rooftops.’”
“I don’t want to make this a whole sexism thing, but women are held to such a double standard. I wear a skirt to the arena that shows off my legs, and people call me a slut. I wear a jacket and a buttoned-up shirt, and I get called a prude. I’m sure when pictures of tonight make the rounds online, people are going to think I’m a bad role model for young girls just because you can see my cleavage.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through that, and I’m sorry for joking about something that’s not funny. I had no idea that was happening, and it’s bullshit that people even say that kind of stuff in the first place. You’re a role model no matter what you wear. Look at the arenas—not just ours, but the ones on the road too. Hundreds of girls are wearing your jersey. They look up to you because of how good of an athlete you are, but also because you’re a kind person who goes out of her way to show her appreciation for the fans who show up for her. Take tonight. You talked with Rachel for twenty
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It’s fucking reckless to be out in the open and acting like this, to be touching her and drawing circles on her knee, but I want her to know she’s perfect. That she could show up to games in a burlap sack and I’d still think she’s the most incredible person.
I look at her with her pretty dress and pretty make up, the twinkle in her eye and the half smile on her lips. “I was thinking about you.” I swallow. “They were the best thoughts.”
“I think you’d make a great dad. You have one of the kindest hearts, Maverick. And there are plenty of people out there who need that joy you give.”
did pay the DJ to play a slow song, and it was a lot more than twenty bucks. You’ve looked gorgeous all night, and I wanted a minute with you for myself. I guess that makes me selfish too. Something we have in common.” “How much did you pay him?” “A thousand bucks. And I would’ve paid him a thousand more.”
I climb off the couch and walk toward her. “It means you know that kind of love is out there, and you’re worthy of it. There’s nothing silly about that, even if the words are make-believe. They can be real to you.”
“And if I want to continue our arrangement?” he asks, soft enough so June can’t hear us. “What if I want to figure out how you take your coffee? See what plants you buy for your place and make fun of you for sleeping with eight blankets?”
“Happy New Year, Emmy girl,” he murmurs low and rough, and he crashes his lips against mine. It’s brief, hardly anything like we do when we’re together in bed, but that same bolt of electricity runs through me. “I think this is going to be the best year yet.”
don’t have the contract you do, but men have been intimidated by what I make from playing and the few brand partnerships I have. They don’t usually like that I’m tall or that I could beat them in arm wrestling. They don’t like the blisters on my hands or when I look sweaty and gross.” She tips her head to the side, and our gazes meet. “Not you, though. You like all those things.” “I love those things.” I swallow and take off my shirt, leaving it in a pile with the rest of our clothes. “I told you that you’ve only been with boys, not men. Men want you to spend your hard-earned money. They want
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“It’s complicated. My dad played hockey in college, and when he and my mom were trying for kids, he really wanted a boy. When I was born, my mom was determined to steer me toward any other sport. Ballet. Figure skating. I even tried water polo and rowing. I kept going back to hockey, and she resented it,” she says. “Why?” “She always wanted a daughter, and I think she had this idea in her head where we’d go shopping together and get our nails done and I wouldn’t be around sweaty teenage boys. I do like to do those things, but I like to hit the puck too. I’d come home with black eyes and
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“What about your dad?” “He got hurt,” she says softly, and my heart drops to my feet. “A freak accident at a beer league game a decade ago. Broken cervical vertebrae. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”
“Yeah. I don’t remember a lot about my childhood. I know my dad wasn’t very nice to my mom. There was lots of yelling and things getting thrown. My childhood psychologist told me my mom was fighting a lot of mental health battles; postpartum depression and anxiety. Bipolar disorder. The best thing for my future was foster care.”
“No. Nothing ever worked out. I went through eight different families before I aged out, and by then, I was grateful to be out. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to be sent back.” I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles. “People ask why I sleep with so many women, and I think it’s because I just want to be fucking wanted. They know what they’re getting into because I’m very honest about it—it’s only for the night. Sex and no attachments. They might claim they want to date me, that they want something long term, but we know it’s only for tickets and money and fame. “One-night stands
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“Because you love everyone fiercely. You put your whole being into the people you care about, and a woman is going to come along who sees that. Who knows what a gift you are, and it will be an honor for her to fall in love with you. She’ll protect your heart, and it’s going to be okay.”
“Are you sure?” I let go of the drawer and wrap my hand around her neck. “You have to be one hundred percent sure, Emmy, because when I sink into you and fuck you raw, that’s it. You’re mine for good. I’m not sharing you with anyone else. It’s my cum that’s going to fill you up. It’s my cock that’s going to take care of your pussy. I’m going to have you wherever the fuck I want, and I’m a needy man, baby. I’m going to need you a lot.”
“No one fucks you like I do, do they? That’s why you keep coming back to me. I’m the only girl you’ve ever been with more than once because you can’t get enough of me, can you?”
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.
Maverick steps closer. He crowds my space, eyes holding mine. “Did he lay a finger on you?” “What?” Hudson asks from my left. “Who put a finger on her?” “Someone hurt Emmy?” Ethan pulls off his gloves. “Who the fuck was it?” “Hell, no. We ride at fucking dawn!” Grant yells, and Seymour pats his shoulder. “Maybe we ride in the next ten minutes, G.” “My ex who I played with in the ECHL. He moved to the AHL, and the Wildebeests called him up to play tonight,” I rush out, telling them all the truth.
“That’s our girl,” Seymour yells, and I’m close to bursting into tears again. “We’re going to take care of him,” Ethan says, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Emmy.” “Yeah,” Grant adds. “You’re ours now.” “If he comes within four feet of the goal, I’ll shove my stick down his throat,” Liam says, and from him, it’s the equivalent of a love poem.
“I know each of us has a personal vendetta going into this game, so I’m not even going to bother with the lecture about staying focused. However you want to take out that frustration is up to you, but know that I support you. I have your back. We’ll be spending a lot of time in the sin bin, and that’s fine by me,” I say.
“Can I say something?” Emmy asks, and I nod. “I’m not a woman who likes when people do things for her, and I’d never ask you all to defend my honor or anything like that. But knowing you have my back means a lot to me. I’m so lucky to play next to you all every night, and I wouldn’t want to call anyone else my teammates.” “We love you, Emmy,” Grant yells, and he tries to jump in her arms. Her skate slips out from under her, and they both go tumbling to the ice. “Pile on,” Ethan says, and other guys join them like we just won the Cup.
But guess what? She’s mine now, motherfucker, and I’m not going to let you disrespect her anymore.”
I aim for his nose again. “That’s for saying she only has a job because she sleeps around.” I go for his jaw next, and something pops in his cheek. “That’s for saying you’d let your teammates touch her.” I move to his forehead and deck him there. “That’s for making fun of the books she likes to read.” My final blow is to his eye, and I hope I break his eye socket. “And that’s for getting to her before me.”
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.
“Fuck Cole Meyers,” he practically growls. “Fuck him straight to hell. This wasn’t just about heart. This was about trust and having each other’s backs, which we do. Those assholes learned that if you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. We weren’t playing like this back in late October, and to see that growth tells me how great this team is.”
“I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else, Emmy,” he murmurs, and my heart explodes in my chest. “And I’d get decked in the face all over again if it meant seeing you smile.”
We sleep together and eat meals together. We hang out when we’re not at practice or on the road. She calls me when she’s watering her plants, and I call her when I’m at the grocery store. Sometimes we chat for ten minutes. Sometimes it turns into an hour. It’s like we’re stuck in the murky middle between friends with benefits and boyfriend and girlfriend, and I think it’s time to have a talk with her. I don’t know if she wants to keep going down this road of constantly being in each other’s lives, but I do. And I want to put a label on it so there’s no confusion.
“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.”
I glance down at the jersey I ordered two weeks ago—an XL Stars jersey with Hartwell’s name and number on the back in our hometown white. I’ve had the idea since they announced the themed night, but I didn’t want her to think I was wearing it as a joke or to poke fun at her.
“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.”
“You deserve nice things, remember?” I glance to the side and see that Maven and Piper have disappeared. I didn’t even notice they left. “It’s a fucking honor and a privilege to play beside you. There was never any doubt about who I wanted to represent. It’s you, and it’s always going to be you.”
