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

by Chelsea Curto

I don’t say the things I’m thinking: how I’m always worried I’m too much. Too over the top, like women in the past have called me. That the therapy I’ve been doing since my mom’s death is working, but I still feel like I’m this ball of emotion who loves people too fiercely, who cares too deeply, who wonders if my brain might be hardwired wrong.

Maybe I am losing hope. Maybe every day I become less of a romantic. Maybe not everyone finds that great love, and I’m one of the unlucky ones.

His answer comes seconds later, making it obvious he’s not putting his phone down. Wherever he is, I have his full attention, and that makes heat gather low in my stomach.

“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.”