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

by Chelsea Curto

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

“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.”

The one-minute warning comes. Everything narrows down to her, and the careful way she puts a hand on my chest. How her fingers fan out over my shirt and she twists the cotton, pulling me toward her. As if I wouldn’t go willingly. As if I wouldn’t fucking crawl or run or climb a mountain to get there.

“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. Marriage isn’t the only path for relationships. You don’t need a piece of paper to love her, do you?”

“Because y’all are mine.” I tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “And I protect what’s mine.”