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

by Chelsea Curto

When you’re a single parent who needs to provide for her child, you don’t have time to wallow. You don’t have the opportunity to beat yourself up or stew over what you could’ve done differently.

“Are you a friend of Piper’s?” I’m used to people knowing who I am, and this is a nice change of pace. I don’t have to be Hudson Hayes, the NHL superstar. I can be Hudson Hayes, the dog dad who goes to bed at nine every night and prefers to stay out of the limelight.

I’m grinning like an idiot, but I don’t care. Madeline watched our game, and that makes me even prouder than the goal did.

“We need to make him watch the ‘Juno’ positions clips and figure out which ones he likes.” Grant drops to the floor and thrusts into the rug. “Have you ever tried this one, Hud?”

There are a lot of men in the world, but I’m learning there’s only one Hudson Hayes.

“Do you need anything else?” Stay here with me. Your touch soothes me. Every minute you’re around, I feel like the part of myself that’s been broken for years is healing.

“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.”

“Madeline,” I murmur. “Yeah?” she whispers. “Maybe we should kiss,” I tell her, not fully knowing what I’m saying. But those lips… and the corner of her mouth… “To see if it brings us good luck.” “You want to kiss me because you want good luck?” “Yeah. But I also want to kiss you because I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

Madeline makes me want to be unbelievably bad, and maybe it’s time I deserve to be something other than good.

If she wants to be friends, I’m going to be the best damn friend she’s ever had.

“And if I don’t want to wear your jersey?” I ask with a hint of defiance. He brushes a strand of hair away from my neck so he can whisper in my ear. He’s not touching me, but it feels like he is. “I might be nice, Madeline, but I can also be very persuasive.”

I don’t know what I want more: to wear his name across my back, or to learn how persuasive Hudson Hayes can be.

He makes me believe, and that’s not something I’ve done in a very long time.

It’s dangerous to be around her when I’m thinking about her. I want to take her bottom lip between my teeth. I want to know what she would look like with a hickey on her neck, and I want to pour the last of her wine in her mouth then kiss her until she’s breathless.

She’s ingrained on my soul, and life is too short to not tell the people you care about exactly how you feel.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” She dances her hand across my stomach, dipping her fingers in my briefs, and I suck in a breath. “Like this?” “You can touch me however you want,” I tell her. “I’ll like anything you do to me.” Ruin me, I almost say, but I keep that to myself.

“Did you…” Her eyes flick to my sweatpants. “In your⁠—” “Come in my pants? Oh, yeah. It’s everywhere. Halfway down my leg. Probably on my foot. The social media comments would have a field day with me. The NHL player who can’t last? The jokes write themselves.”

“Hey,” I croak. “You’re home.” “I am. And you’re asleep.” “What? No.” I sit up and rub my eyes, flicking on the lamp. “I was reading my book.” “In the pitch black? You sure are talented.”

Hudson cups my chin with so much care, I almost melt because of it. “I’m at your mercy.”

“Tell me again how nice I am, Maddie. I can’t wait to fuck that word right out of your mouth.”

“This right here—being with you? Touching you? Breathing the same air as you?—is good enough for me. Everything else is a bonus.”

I think about the evenings on the couch with Lucy and Madeline. First-grade homework on the coffee table and dolls in the kitchen. Carrying Lucy to bed and eating a cookie with Madeline while we split a glass of milk. How much I laugh and how light I feel. Those little moments don’t sound special by themselves, but in the grand scheme of life, they’re some of my favorite things. What I look forward to on the drive back from the arena, a bright spot after a bad game.

“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.”

“And I protect what’s mine.”

“You really do make me see the stars, 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.

“You’re so good at treating me right, Hudson.” “Never thought I had a praise kink.” He kisses my throat then my jaw. “Until you started calling me good.”

“Pretty sure I have a Pavlovian response to you picking up a knife. I get instantly hard. Might need to have my head checked.” “Yeah?” She reaches behind me and holds a butter knife in front of her. “Should we test that theory?”

“Loving you is easier than anything I’ve ever done. It’s like breathing. Something that comes naturally, because I don’t have to think about it. You’re just… there. Perfect and wonderful and mine. Made for me, I think.”

“I love you, Madeline Galloway. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I love how strong you are. How wonderful of a mother you are. I love your sarcasm, but I also love when you slow things down. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. And if there’s ever a doubt in your mind, I want you to ask me, because that means I’m not doing a good enough job of showing you how fucking gone I am for you.”

“What is this?” he asks me, and I nudge his knee. “Read it,” I say. His mouth moves as he reads the first couple of sentences, and I see the moment understanding dawns. The papers fall from his shaky hands and land in his lap. He looks up at us with wide eyes. “It’s an adoption petition,” he says slowly, signing at the same time. Lucy wants you to be her dad, I explain, and Lucy nods along beside me. You’re her favorite person in the world. She wants to be a part of your family, and she wants to have you be a part of ours. Legally. Officially. In every sense of the word.

crying in the club wtf