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

by Chelsea Curto

“Open your eyes, Maddie. I want you to watch when you take me for the first time.”

Hudson laughs again, and the sound is like coming home. A Sunday morning in bed and warm coffee when it’s cold outside.

“I don’t know if I want to cover your mouth with my hand because what you’re saying is going to make me come faster than I want”—he plucks my nipple between his fingers and twists—“or if I want you to tell me everything you’re feeling.” “You can cover my mouth. I’d like to try that.” “Christ. Okay. We’ll add that in next time. But tonight, I want to hear you.”

“Is that what you like?” Hudson lifts his hips. I gasp when he pulls me off him before slamming back into me. “Hard? Rough?” “Sometimes. It makes me feel wanted.” I tilt my head back. “Like you’re desperate for me.”

“I can get deeper this way.” He puts a hand on my leg and teases me for a minute. He drags his cock through my entrance then taps it against my clit. I arch my back, asking for more of him. “And I get to watch.” “Do you like to watch?” “I fucking love to watch.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you for understanding. You really are the nicest man I’ve ever met.” Hudson rolls away from me. He positions himself above me and kisses my cheek, then my throat and my mouth. “I really am going to have to fuck that word out of you,” he says.

“That’s an interesting way to put it. Tell me, Hud. What are you doing when you spend time together? Crossword puzzles? Sudoku? Maybe word searches?” “You know, you’ve gotten pretty damn sarcastic since you started hanging out with Liam. I’m not sure I like it.”

Piper looks at the four of us. Her bottom lip trembles, and she buries her face in her hands. “You guys are all so wonderful.”

He fucked me rough and fast when the stars were out, and again as the sun started to rise, nice and slow and with less urgency than our first time.

I spin and pull my hair away from my back so he can see the number stitched on the fabric. “Want to guess again?” He doesn’t say anything else, and when I look at him over my shoulder, Hudson is gaping at me. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are wide, and I don’t know how to read this expression of his. “It’s mine,” he says. “You’re wearing my number.”

“My name looks good on you, Galloway.” “You think so?” “Yeah. Better than any of the other women in the arena. You’re the only one I want wearing it.”

“Have a good game tonight.” “I’ve got my girls in the crowd wearing my jersey, Galloway.” Hudson’s face shifts from playful to something soft. A truth he’s declaring in the middle of the sold-out arena. “I could miss every shot I take. We could lose by twenty, and it’d still be a damn good night.”

Time stands still. I swear someone hits pause on the next four seconds, but when the puck soars into the bottom right corner of the net, just past the goalie’s pad, everything speeds up. Confetti falls from the rafters. Pandemonium ensues as the entire team piles on Hudson. After they’ve smothered him in congratulations, they line up to shake the Longhorns’ hands before celebrating again.

I throw on a baseball hat, a hoodie, and jeans. Grabbing my phone, I open the door and stop in my tracks when I find Maverick sitting on the carpet in the hall. His eyes are closed. His head is against the wall and his hands are folded over his chest. I take a step toward him, gently nudging his knee with my foot and waking him up. “Hey, Huddy.” He groans and stretches his legs. “Was wondering when you were going to roll out of bed.”

“Come on, man.” He holds out his hand, and I pull him to his feet. “Do you really think I’d let you visit her by yourself?” “How did you know where I was going?” “You’re my best friend. You’re not going to come to Georgia and not see your mom,” he says. “I figured you’d want an early start because of the skate we have scheduled at noon. I have a car downstairs, coffee in the cup holders, and some flowers I grabbed from a gas station.”

He hugs me tight and I hug him back, not letting go until my eyes stop stinging.

My eyes prick with tears. My vision blurs, but I wipe away the emotions before they can fall. I know she’d tell me not to cry over her, but sometimes I can’t help it.

Life is so fucking unfair. I stand and put my hand on her headstone. I drag my finger over the smooth granite, smiling. “I love you, Mama. To the stars, the heavens, and beyond.”

When I climb inside, Maverick doesn’t say anything. He reaches over, gives me a hug, and drives us to the hotel. I have an ac...

“It’s good to see you happy, son. You deserve to be happy.” “It seems wrong to be happy when others don’t get that chance.” “That’s

“Guess I need to head out there. He sounds like he has a stick up his ass. Someone probably pissed him off,” I say, and Dad gives me a hug. “Thanks for being here, Pops.” “We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Hud.”

After the time-out, I line up another assist, a pass across center ice to our third right winger. The crowd groans when we score another goal, but I don’t notice. I’m too busy grinning up at my dad, and I swear I can hear my mom cheering for me from the stands.

Things are good. I’m taking my dad’s advice to heart: I’m letting myself be happy. And Madeline? She makes me really fucking happy.

I’ve even caught my teammates glancing her, and I don’t care. They can look at her all they want, but she’s coming home with me.

“I gave birth to a child, Hayes. My pain tolerance is a hell of a lot higher than yours.” “Loser does the dishes tonight.” “You’ve got yourself a deal.” I don’t care that I’m openly flirting with her in front of my teammates. I don’t care that Maverick is smirking at me and Ethan is pretending to gag. I don’t care that Emmy is filming us and no doubt going to upload the footage to social media and title it: Hockey player loses to hot mom, because this is fucking fun.

“Nice job, Mads.” “You gave it your best effort, Bombshell.” “You have some strong legs,” I point out. “Maybe I can put them around your head when we get home,” she tosses back nonchalantly, and I blush. None of my teammates heard her comment, and that makes it even hotter. It’s a secret only for me, and suddenly, I don’t care about the workout.

“What if I want to gag? What if I want it to be messy?” “Then make a mess of me, Maddie,” he says with a low voice from the depths of his chest. “Please.”

“You’re going to be my undoing.” He hides his face in my neck, the warmth of his skin against mine effervescent. Popped champagne bottles and a million fireworks. “My demise.” Be gentle with me when you kill me, he said, and I hope I can be just as gentle with his precious heart.

“Are you kidding? My legs hurt, and it looks like there’s a bird living in my hair.” He pulls on the tangled strands with a smile meant for only me. “Still beautiful.”

I’ve always preferred my own bed over a hotel, but I like it even more when Madeline sneaks under my covers once Lucy goes to sleep. Sometimes we have sex, but other times we stay up late talking, hours passing in what feels like seconds.

“They are her favorite food,” Madeline explains. “I mentioned there was a player who liked them, too, and she was very excited to meet you.” “No way.” He shoves the rest of the bread in his mouth and wipes his hand on his shirt. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to ask me about hot dog condiment preferences. Do I, uh, just write on the paper?” Ethan fumbles with the spiral notebook, opening it. I think his hands might be shaking. “Sorry. This feels really important, and I don’t want to fuck—sorry, mess up.”

And remember she’s a child,” I emphasize. “No inappropriate conversations or drawings. I’ll kick your ass if you misbehave.” “All right, Dad.

Ethan surprises me by walking over to Lucy. He squats and gives her a wide smile. She blushes and waves, a hint of shyness she doesn’t usually show coming through. Hello, there, he scribbles in terrible handwriting. Mustard on hot dogs? Lucy wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “She and I are going to get along just fine,” he tells us.

“Who gives a shit if she doesn’t want to get married? Look at me! I was so against monogamy, and now I’m wondering how I can order a fucking casket that fits two people so I can hold Emmy’s hand when we’re dead.

Lucy comes barreling into the kitchen. The dogs chase after her, and she’s dragging Ethan by the sleeve. When they get close, he throws the notebook at my shoulder. “You’ve all been replaced,” he announces. “Lucy and I are best friends now.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Madeline looks at my bouncing knee then up at my face. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything. About your mom. About your games. I want to be a safe space for you, Hudson.” She’s the safest space I’ve ever had. I could strip myself down to my bones and I’d feel nothing but shielded with her.

“Hello, Lucy,” I speak and sign. Her mouth pops open and she scoots closer to me, looking at my hands then up at me. Madeline gasps, but I don’t let myself get distracted. “My name is Hudson. I have two dogs, Gus and Millie. My favorite food is a cheeseburger, and I play hockey.” I go slow and take my time to make sure each motion is deliberate. I keep eye contact with Lucy and use lots of expression on my face. “I’ve been practicing my signing. I’ve loved having you and your mom here. And I hope you’ll stick around for a while. You are one of my favorite people in the world, Lucy girl, and I’m so excited we can talk to each other. I might not be very good at it, but I’m going to keep learning for you, okay?” Lucy’s bottom lip trembles. Hi, Hudson, she answers, and it’s not lost on me that she’s signing slower than she does when she talks with her mom. My name is Lucy. I’m so glad we’re friends. I love your doggies. And you. You make me happy. You make Mommy happy too. How old are you? I’m six.

“Where did you learn to sign? How? When? Why?” “Piper.” I spell out her name, and I’m glad she told me to try speaking and signing at the same time. “I’ve been practicing over the last few months. After practice. Online. Alone in my room. With a tutor from Gallaudet University twice a week. Anywhere I can find someone to talk to.”

“Her dad—” Madeline buries her face in her hands and sobs again. I hate hearing her cry, and I put a hand on her back. I rub a small circle over her shoulders, smiling when Lucy puts her arms around her mom’s neck. It’s amazing how she can sense emotion. “He didn’t want…” “And I do. I’m going to practice every single day. I won’t stop until I know every word, every phrase, every handshape in existence. In English. In ASL. In whatever other language Lucy wants to learn.”

“I still don’t know why,” Madeline whispers, and she lifts her chin to meet my gaze. “You know why. Don’t you?” I love you, I think. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“You’re my best friend too, Maddie. And I was serious when I said I want y’all to stick around.” Stay forever, I almost add. Here’s my broken heart. I think you’re the only one who can fix it.

“You can’t say that to me right before you leave.” Hudson drops his head against the wall. “You’re evil, Galloway.” “You’ll survive.” I touch his arm, and he looks at me. “See you soon, hockey guy.” “Have fun, sweetheart.”

Her own father wanted nothing to do with her, and here’s Hudson. Letting her paint his nails. Treating her like she’s a princess and not batting an eye. How could I not love him?” I croak. “One time, some of the other players joined in when I was teaching Hudson some ASL,” Piper says. “You all should’ve seen him, Liam, Maverick, and Riley sitting around and talking with their hands. I think it’s important to remember there are men out there who would do things if they wanted to, and these guys do. The title of dad doesn’t have to apply to the person who’s biologically attached to a kid. It can be someone else who’s willing to step up and fill that role.”

I’m proud to sit beside them. I’m honored to call them my friends, and I know no matter what happens with Hudson, I’ve fallen in love with four women I’ll have in my corner for the rest of my life.

“Gotta jet. Hope my favorite girls have fun.” “Score a goal for us,” I say, and the wink he gives me makes me feel like I’m dating the biggest athlete on campus.

“Her ex… well. He’s here.” I swear to all that is holy my vision turns red. I grip my stick so tightly I don’t know how it doesn’t break in two. Fury like I’ve never experienced before races up my spine, and I force myself to take a breath before I say something I might regret.

“How the fuck am I supposed to focus on hitting a goddamn puck when the man who divorced the woman I fucking love sits in the stands without getting a piece of my fucking mind? He left them because his daughter is deaf. Do you know how horrible he is?” “The woman you⁠—” “Obviously,” I practically yell. “How can I not fucking love her? She’s perfect.”

Her eyes are red and her cheeks are puffy, and there’s mascara near her nose. “Sweetheart,” I say.

Lucy is with Piper. She’s doing okay. Liam even stole her away for a minute, and I think he might’ve been smiling,” I say, and that gets a laugh out of her. “Hell is freezing over.”

“I love how confident you are in the kitchen.” I bend so I can kiss her neck, and she relaxes against me. “It’s so fucking sexy.” “I chop cilantro, Hudson. I’m not out there finding world peace.” “Don’t care. It’s hot as hell.”