Hat Trick (D.C. Stars, #4)

by Chelsea Curto

“She wasn’t finished speaking,” Riley says, deathly low. The look in his eye is murderous. A shiver races up my spine when he curls his fingers into a fist. My cheeks turn bright red when he stares at my boss and tilts his head to the side. “And her name is Lexi. L-e-x-i. That’s not difficult, is it? Treat her with respect and get it right, or I’m leaving.” Holy shit. I think I need to get my head checked, because that outburst was the hottest display of emotion I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life.

The romance books I read are right: having a guy turn a little unhinged and defend your honor is sexy as hell.

I consulted with an occupational therapist as well as your prosthetist, and I think with a dedicated leader who believes in you and has knowledge of your situation, you will skate again.”

“Funny. I don’t see you walking around with a missing fucking leg. Until you do, I’m the one making decisions about who works with me. The only way I’ll agree to this is if Lexi is the one in charge. It’s her plan. It’s her job, and she outranks everyone on your team. Do I make myself clear?”

“You don’t like to skate?” Riley turns to face me, looking horrified. “Who doesn’t like to skate?” “Women from Florida who think the idea of balancing on a single blade sounds like hell.”

“Do I have a choice?” “Of course you have a choice.”

“I want to ride on the back of Ethan’s motorcycle,” he starts, and I hurry to jot it down. “I want to go on a roller coaster and scream until my throat is sore. Skinny dipping in the Potomac sounds like a death sentence with the river current, but skinny dipping in general sounds like a fucking blast. I want to… eat food that’s so spicy, it’ll make me cry. I want to get another tattoo and… fuck. I don’t know. What else? Don’t make fun of me, but I’d like to have a kiss with someone that’s so mind-blowing I can’t think straight.”

“I want to overpay for one of those carnival games at a fair. The stupid ones where you have to toss a ring on a bottle, you know? I always thought they were so gimmicky, but now, I want to give them a shot. Guess the second chance at life thing makes me want to drop money on rigged entertainment.” Riley adjusts his glasses. “And I… I want to skate again. Not just a lap around the rink. I want to skate until my legs—leg—gives out. I want to feel the burn I used to feel when I pushed my body to the brink of exhaustion in a game.”

I wish I fucking could, because seeing you so mad at the world hurts, I almost shout.

“No. Don’t fucking do that. The only person at fault was the piece of shit who hit us. You saved me. I don’t think I’d be here without your help. Are you healing up okay?”

“It wouldn’t be pestering. Never. I’m so fucking glad Marcus arranged this.” I look at my agent, hoping he can feel the gratefulness I’m trying to convey. “We’ll have to do it again soon.”

“Is it crazy to say it smells like home?” I ask. “If home had a smell.” “No.” Coach snorts. “That’s what I think too.”

“I’m going to try my best. I, ah, did some research earlier. I read a couple articles that said Pilates helps to align the body, which is important for people who⁠—” “Experience postural imbalances due to the loss of a limb.” Lexi nods, eyes bright. “I read that article too, and I immediately thought of you.”

“I’ll tell you what we’re gossiping about if you tell us what’s in that notebook you carry around. You’ve been holding onto it for a year.” “It’s not important,” Grant rushes to say. “Only women’s numbers. I got hoes in every area code, you know?” He can’t lie to save his life.

because he likes stalker books i think he’s “stalking” amelia greens games and tracking how she does to support her

“You mentioned you liked limes in your drink. Didn’t know if that only applied to cocktails or all forms of fluid.” “When did I mention that?” “June,” he says simply, and he leaves it at that.

And—god. Come to think of it, it was the night we were all out celebrating The Cup. The night he lost his leg. The night his entire life changed. What is he doing remembering my drink preferences?

“Dead serious, Mitchell. You took this team to back-to-back Stanley Cups. You should be out there with us chasing a three-peat, but life isn’t fucking fair. I’m doing what I can to balance the scales.”

“Nothing for me. I’m fine.” A secret smile curls on her mouth when she taps her water glass, but I don’t ask any questions.

“No, you won’t,” he answers with a smirk. “Have fun.”

“Do you know a lot of meteorologists?” “I follow this woman down in Florida who has a weather show. She’s been in tornadoes and hailstorms, and she’s a total badass.”

“How do you remember all the things I say?” Lexi’s gaze meets mine. “The limes. My dreams for a studio. That I played basketball when I was younger?” “I listen,” I say. “Most people—” She stops herself mid-sentence and hangs her head. “No one ever listens.”

“This is really thoughtful, Riley.” She traces over the letters in the title and curls her fingers around the spine as she brings it tight to her chest. “Thank you. I can’t wait to read it.”

“I’ve been working with their skate rep,” she starts, and I hear the tint of nerves in her voice. “I mentioned who the skates were for and how you need two different sizes now, and after talking with your prosthetist about your foot measurements, I ordered a pair. They’re, um, custom. The left is the size you used to wear, and the right is slightly smaller to fit your prosthetic foot. I lied the night of the gala. I know your feet aren’t the same size anymore, but I didn’t want to let on about your gift.” Her smile turns sheepish, shy. “I also like to hear you talk.”

I stop to take a breath. I didn’t realize I was shaking, and I rest my cheek on top of her head. It feels fucking good to admit this to someone besides my therapist. I’m letting it out in the open, and with every word I say, I’m lighter, buoyant, so I keep talking.

“Riley?” “Yeah?” She takes my hand in hers. “I’m really glad you’re still here.”

I know it’s not going to be a long-term thing, but I’m falling back in love with the sport I spent weeks grieving because I thought I lost it.

“I have seventy more years of going uphill? I can’t wait.” “It can always be worse. You could have eighty.”

Right now, I’m a man asking another man how he’s really doing, because we don’t get asked it enough.”

“How are you really doing, Riley?” he presses, but nothing about it feels forceful. “I’m…” I trail off and blink back tears. I pull off my glasses and hurry to wipe my eyes, but Dr. Ledlow doesn’t say anything.

“I’m okay. I’m closer to good than not, and that’s lightyears better than where I was before. A work in fucking progress, I’d say, but also someone who knows they have a bigger role here and is no longer in a hurry to leave.” I pause to swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you for asking.”

“I’m always going to be patient with you, Riley. Not because it’s my job, but because it’s the right thing to do as a human being.”

“If I have to see pictures of the jewelry on his dick, you all get to know how popular he is,” Grant says. “Imagine being in line at the grocery store and Ethan’s penis pops up on your phone.”

“Remember that other book where the guy tells her to lose her ring and crawl? Hell.”

JASPER AND SLOANE!!!

“Women.” Grant sighs. “So complex. So brilliant. We’re so undeserving.”

Maverick looks at me from across the room. “I know we’ve said it before, but it should be said again. We’re really glad you’re here, Mitchy.”

This is my home, exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I’m captain of this team, Lex. I’ve made it a point to know the name of every single person in this organization. They know mine. Why shouldn’t I know theirs?

“There’s nowhere we’d rather be,” Hudson says.

“Never in a million years did I think he’d get here.” “I did,” I say. “I knew it all along.”

“We forge ahead. We pivot and adjust. We find a new plan, and we try again. And if you don’t want to try again, that’s fine too. When you’re ready, I’m going to be here, okay?”

“But if and when you do, I’ll be here.” I squeeze his knee. “And I can be very patient, Mitchy.”

“I’m lucky to have a friend like you, Lexi. We’ll try again another day.”

“Fully capable of handling things by yourself. I know that. But guess what? Accepting help doesn’t make you weak, okay? It just means for a few minutes, someone else can help carry the load. And you’ve been carrying the load for me for months. Share the burden with me just this once.”

“Do it yourself? I know you can. But here’s the thing, Lexi. I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’m not going to be able to eat. I’m not going to be able to do anything except wonder if you’re okay and taken care of. Put me out of my misery and let me do it for you.”

“I’d kill at standup.” “Only if you don’t talk about my dick.” “Believe it or not, my life doesn’t revolve around your penis, Riley.”

“I lit a candle.” I point to the burned-out jar on her nightstand next to the glass of water I brought in earlier. “I got everything set up in case you wanted to nap.” “You did that for me?” “Of course I did.”

“You’re a smart girl. Figure it out.”

“But I can be better. How can I be better?”

“But I think I am yours.”

“We wrote out a life list for you, and I want to help you check off some of the things you want to do because you deserve to be happy and have fun, Riley.