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.

“Take as long as you need. We’ll be here,” Hudson says. “Go on, Golden Girl.” “Golden Girl?” “Yeah.” He gestures around the kitchen, not blinking at the catastrophe surrounding us. “You’re the brightest thing in this room. The brightest thing in every room.”