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

by Chelsea Curto

I lean back and let them go at each other. They’re always like this, and they won’t cause any actual damage. At twenty-three and twenty-four, they’re the youngest of the group, and it’s good to see they’re not growing up too fast. “How long are you going to let them flail around before you stop them?” I ask Maverick, and he snorts. “It would be nice to leave them here for the rest of the night. But I guess I should step in, right?” “That’s why you wear the big C on your jersey.” “Could be because of my big c⁠—” “Ow, you fucker.” Ethan flips Grant onto his back and straddles him. “Apologize for pulling my hair.” “Never,” Grant yells. “If you don’t want to apologize for acting like a toolbag, you have to answer one of my burning questions.” Ethan smirks. “What the fuck is up with that notebook you carry around with you?” “It’s full of numbers I get from girls,” he’s quick to say. “A way to keep track of their names.” “There’s no way you’re pulling that much pussy,” Ethan says. “Fuck you. I can pull whoever I want. I get plenty of action.” “Maybe you should try and pull Hudson’s new roommate. If he’s not going to, someone should. I hear she’s hot as fuck. You could show her you know how to use a stick. Get it?” “Hey,” I say sharply, and everyone stares at me. I’m not one to raise my voice, but I hate hearing this kind of shit. “I don’t care if that was a joke. Knock it the fuck off or save it for the bar when I’m not around. And keep my roommate’s name out of your mouth. None...