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?” “Is ice play some sort of kink of yours?” “God, no.” She takes a step away, but I want her to come back. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted you’re hitting on me.” “Flattered,” I blurt. “Definitely flattered.”

We love a confient queen

“What are you doing?” “Skating,” I say innocently, just to piss him off. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I give myself a point. “Is that allowed?” “This is my rink. We’re going by my rules.” “Funny. I didn’t see your name on the building, hot shot.” “All I heard in that sentence was hot.” “How do you plan on skating with that inflated head of yours?” “I’m captain.” “Congratulations. Since you like to tell people what to do, what do you have planned for the next hour? Are you going to waterboard me?” There’s that dimple in his right cheek, and I hate the fucking thing. “Sounds kind of fun. Is that one of your kinks?” Maverick smirks. “You’re awfully interested in the sex life of someone who will never get in bed with you,” I say. “Do we need to get HR involved?” “I love a good challenge. My determination is one of my best qualities.” “Right up there with annoying as hell, probably.”

lol love the banter

“Of course you can, June Bug.” I kiss the top of her head and hold her close to my chest. “How are you, princess? Did first grade treat you well today?”

Aww i love him as an uncle

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

Cute reaction

That earns me another half smile from her, and I want to collect them all. Shove them in my pocket and keep them for myself.

okay sir

Play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

Taylor Swift - Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince

“Stop wanting to know things about me,” I say smugly. “I’m going to think you like me, Red.” “If your ego gets any bigger, there’s not going to be any room for us in the hallway.” “You could stand closer to me, if you want.” “I think I’d rather die.” She looks down at her shoes and holds a foot up. “Should I put on flats? I don’t want to look too tall in the photos.” “Too tall?” I wrinkle my nose. “Is there such a thing as too tall? I love tall women.” “I’m definitely going to put on flats then.” “Stop.” I touch her elbow then pull back when I realize what I’m doing. “Sorry. I’m not a judge on Project Runway, so my opinion on fashion has little merit, but I like the heels. And if you like them too, who cares what anyone else thinks?” “I read your GQ article from last summer. You seemed to have a lot of thoughts on fashion,” she says, and she covers her mouth. Her eyes widen, and a pretty pink color pops up on her cheeks when she realizes what she just told me. “Shit. Pretend I never said that.” I break out into a slow grin and lean my elbow against the wall above her head. “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.

The banter...

Hey. What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask, dropping my voice. “Not you.”

Hahaha

“Chin up, buttercup. We’ve got time to turn this shit show around.” “If you ever call me buttercup again, I will end you,” she says, her arms folded across her chest and an evil gleam to her eye. “Atta girl,” I say when I jump back on the ice, grinning when her cheeks turn as red as her hair.

I love that

“I’m just a fucking hockey player.” “You’re more than a hockey player,” I say, and he opens his eyes to look at me. I think he can see straight into my soul. “You’re her hero, and there’s not an honor higher than that. Just think: one day she’s going to be at NASA or some prestigious research hospital, in a room with really smart people, and she’ll tell them all about how she got to spend time with you. That sounds like my idea of hell, but I’m glad she likes it.”

Aww hes sweet

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.

Okay girl I see you

Hartwell told me women love romance books. Maybe we should read them too. Hudson I read romance books. Easy E The fuck? You do? Hudson How else are you supposed to learn what women want in a relationship?

Hudson is a green flag

“Avoid the charcuterie boards—there are strawberries on them. I’ll make sure there aren’t any next time.” Emerson hesitates. “What are you talking about?” “Strawberries?” I repeat. “The fruit? You’re allergic, right? The flight to Milwaukee tomorrow would suck if your eyes were all puffy.”

The way he knew...

But the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine.

Oh shit

“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.”

Omg he remembered

“You said I look like I got hit by a truck.” “Doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? I would’ve been here the second you called. You wouldn’t have had to spend hours all alone with your head in the toilet.” “You would’ve?” “I already broke the door down once. I’d do it again.” “You broke down the door? For me?” “Yeah. Might have fractured half the bones in my arm in the process, but I’ll survive. I’ll get you a new one, by the way.”

Aww love him

“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 minutes and made her whole year when you could’ve been schmoozing with the rich guys who help pay our paychecks. What you wear on the outside isn’t going to change what’s on the inside, and that’s a beautiful woman.”

Okay I see you mr. Feminist

Pretty Boy

She changed his contact name!!!

“Oh, Maverick,” Emerson whispers, and she climbs into my lap. Her hug is grounding, and when she rocks me in her arms, my nose stings. I blink away tears, and I hide my face in her hair. “You sweet man. You’re the furthest thing from a horrible person. 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. You know why?”

Awwww...

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.

He deserves to feel like that

I make a heart with my hands and hold it up to her. She tucks her chin and hides her smile. Being on top of Cole helped me realize something. 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.

Aww Mavrick

it’s true. He bought me flowers and cooked me potatoes three different ways for dinner. He answers my texts almost the second they go through, and after I told him I was craving a sweet tea, he went to four different stores until he found the brand I like. I tried to tell him he doesn’t have to do those things, that this isn’t an all or nothing arrangement, but the man picked up one of my romance novels, flopped on my bed, and told me he was learning how to be the perfect boyfriend by reading my books.

Green flags

I love you, I think, when we head to the locker room. I love you, I think, when we celebrate her goal in the first period. I love you, I think, when we win the game and she jumps in my arms. I love you, I think, when she rests her head on my shoulder in the hotel elevator after we get back from dropping Alan off in Lansing. I love you, I love you, I love you, I want to scream.

Ahhhh I love that!

“Why would you give up the sport you love?” “Because I love you more!” he shouts, and my mouth parts. His chest heaves and he closes his eyes. Surely I didn’t hear him right. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell, but you need to hear it. I love you. I love every part of you, and that won’t change whether you’re here or there. I told you early on I’d find a way to track you down, and I would. I will, baby, because I fucking love you. I’m going to be on a plane to see you every day I can. I’ll buy a place up there so I can have somewhere to stay without invading the life you create for yourself. We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I know we will, because I. Love. You.”

OMGGGGGGGG

“Your password is 3669.” “It is.” “That’s my name. Why are you using my name as your password?” “Is that your question of the day?” “It is.” “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.”

Wait thats so cute

“I had to save the best question for last, didn’t I?” Maverick opens the box, and there’s a diamond there. It’s brighter than any ring I’ve ever seen and exactly what I would’ve bought myself if he had given me the choice. “Emerson Rose Hartwell. Love of my life. The most badass hockey player I’ve ever had the pleasure of being teammates with. My sweet girl and my dream woman. Will you marry me?” I fling my arms around his neck, and we go toppling backwards. Maverick laughs and brings his mouth to mine, a soft brush of his lips that has me gripping his shirt, needing more. “You didn’t answer me,” he says, and I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow. “Is my answer not obvious?” I brush a tear away. I blink and see Maverick crying, too, the stupidest smile on his face. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I’d be the luckiest girl in the world.”

OH MY GOD I LOVE THAT