Slap Shot (D.C. Stars, #3)

by Chelsea Curto

He gives me a wave and flips his hat backward before walking toward us. Jesus Christ. Shit like that should be illegal for men to do in public.

“I mean we can, but I don’t want to injure you. Or myself. I might turn into a human bowling ball and take out half the team.” “That’s not going to happen.” “And if it does?” “Then I’ll yell strike and we move along.”

“Can you tell me your name? Where you are?” “Hudson Hayes. In the middle of a shitty hockey game where we’re getting beat by people from fucking Florida.” Lexi smiles and carefully takes off my helmet. “Grant’s going to be mad you said that.”

“You said your favorite color was green and I—” I lift the dress at my hip, gesturing at my ensemble. “I thought it was festive.” “When I said green, I meant that exact shade. You in that outfit, really.” His cheeks are flushed, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “No other variation is ever going to do.”

“Guess the saying is true: anything they can do, we can do better.” Emmy gives us a sharp smirk in the mirror. “Maybe if you all smiled more you’d have more fun.”