Page 7 of SlapShot Sweetheart

“I’m hitting the hot tub.”

“Stretches,” Theo volunteered, holding up a weary finger over his shoulder as if he was placing a ballot for some mysterious poll.

“I just wanna sleep,” Boucher grumbled, putting his forehead against his locker. “Sleep… and a Pizza Hut pan pizza.”

“Oh man, that sounds good,” Theo agreed, wincing at the shake beside him. “Lemme down this so I can get ‘Calorie-Barbie’ off my back, and I’ll drive. Thierry?”

“Sheesh, I’m talking about placing an order and having them meet me at the house so that I can crash.”

“Ah.”

“But you’re welcome to come, brother…”

“Nah,merci beaucoup, butmais non. I’ll order my own and go home,” he said simply and dropped his pants as he changed quickly, moving toward the showers and picked up his phone out of curiosity… and hesitated.

There was a text message from Aimee.

I didn’t take any of them home.

He was curious as to why she didn’t get one or more kittens when she obviously wanted one. Was it because of what he’d said? Was she having second thoughts? Maybe she needed time to think about things… and honestly, seeing the light in her eyes and the faint smile touching her face before she knew he was standing there surprised him. She wanted something to love and had admitted as much, making his own heart hurt at the thought that she’d found him lacking.

Maybe he would surprise her?

He needed to think about this, plan a line of attack, and make sure it didn’t backfire in his face if he wanted to talk, communicate, or text with the woman who had shrugged him off. Gerry would say there was something wrong with him for chasing after a woman who wasn’t interested, but the fool couldn’t see that he was basically doing the exact same thing in his own little world. Smiling for the first time in a few days, Theo quickly changed and headed out.

An hour later, he had a plan.

CHAPTER 3

AIMEE

Aimee wasin the process of redesigning a website when she heard a knock at her door.

Getting to her feet, she hesitated. She wasn’t expecting any deliveries from Amazon or the post office, which meant it was probably solicitors in the area once more. Peering out the peephole, she paused seeing that the porch was empty, but a piece of paper was flapping on the glass of her storm door. She slowly opened the front door, quickly setting the lock on the storm door, and hesitated.

The paper was folded in half with her name on it. Her hand was trembling as she opened it and read the scrawled words written there for her.

She hides behind quiet walls,

A heart once hurt, afraid to fall.

But fate keeps leading him her way,

Softly with words that beg her stay.

“Hello?” she called out, unsure what to think at this moment. Who would write a poem and stick it on her door? This was the craziest and weirdest thing someone could do – and she wasn’t sure how to respond or who to look to for answers. “Hello? Are you there?”

Clutching the short poem, she disappeared back inside and closed the door. Hesitating, she could not think or fathom who would do something so sweet or romantic. Who even wrote poems nowadays anymore?

Moving back to her computer, Aimee began to reformat the page she was working on and hesitated once more, moving to look at the paper. Thick bold lettering on a piece of lined paper that looked like it could have been ripped from any notebook. Feeling like a fool, she lifted it to her nose, sniffing to see if cologne was sprayed on it, and then shook her head, quickly putting it back down like it was a threat to her… only to hear a knock again.

“This isn’t funny!” she hollered loudly, rising to her feet and moving toward the front door. “Whoever this is, you’d better stop. This is harassment and…” she jerked open the door, mindless and knowing that it was probably a mistake if someone was standing out there, only to hesitate as she spotted a box.

Someone was fooling with her!

“This isn’t funny!” she called out angrily, looking around wildly and completely alarmed. It was almost eight o’clock at night and dark out. Someone could be lurking in the bushes, waiting to attack or ‘casing’ the house to find out when best to break in – not that she had anything of value. Hesitating, she looked at the box and realized it was taped on top. Looking at it,she paused as her mouth dropped open in shock and awareness at the description on the side.

Feline scratching post

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