Page 121 of Slap Shot

That makes me want to practice even more so I can do all of this right.

Piper

I know it does, Huddy. You’re doing so well already.

“Riley.This piece of art is really good.” I stare at the canvas he has set up on an easel in the corner of his living room. “You’re getting good.”

“No way. There are eight-year-olds in the class who are the next fucking Picasso, and I’m struggling to paint a tree.”

“Better than anything I could do.” I clasp a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be a Renaissance man before you know it.”

“Order, order,” Maverick yells. Riley elbows my ribs, and I make my way to a chair by the couch. “Book club is officially underway, lads. Before we get started, I want to take a moment to wish our own Grant Everett good luck at All-Star Weekend where he’s competing in the skills competition next week. May he succeed in being the NHL’s fastest skater and have the most accurate shooting.”

“Come on.” Grant blushes, giving us all a grin. “The only reason I’m invited is because you turned down the spot, Mavvy.”

“Not true, G. You earned your place,” I say. “You’re going to have a blast. We’re all proud of you.”

“Shucks, guys.” He flips open his book and taps the pages. “In honor of my exciting accomplishments that have no bearing on our team or the season, I’d like us to start the discussion of ourdark romance book by posing a question to you all. If you were forced to eat a body part of someone else, what body part would you pick, and why?”

“I almost DNFed this book.” Riley grimaces. “The thought of chewing on someone’s finger literally made me gag.”

“But you wouldn’t know you were eating a finger until it’s too late,” Ethan challenges. “I’d probably pick an arm or a toe.”

“Atoe? You’re sick,” Grant says.

“Says the guy who picked the book with cannibalism in it,” Liam grumbles.

“Accidentalcannibalism. Jesus. I don’t want to eat people.”

“Bet you want to eat something,” Ethan says, and Grant almost tackles him.

“We made it five minutes,” I say to Maverick. “That has to be a record, right?”

“It’s something.” He grins. “Maybe Grant will do some maturing at the All-Star Game. I don’t have a lot of hope for Ethan.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’ll surprise us.”

We go around the room, talking about the book and the parts we liked and disliked. A debate about stalking ensues, with Grant emphatically arguing there’s such a thing as good stalking, while Riley argues it could all be considered problematic. I’m the tiebreaker and award the win to Grant, noting that red flags in fiction are different than real life.

After a break for pizza, we roll into the discussion questions Maverick prepared. Another argument arises when we get into the topic of morally gray characters. Liam makes a good point about society only being able to function as long as there are people who aren’t totally good or totally bad that are able to sway in the needed direction when the time calls for it.

“Time for a vote on the spicy scenes.” Maverick grabs a pen and paper from Riley’s coffee table. “Who would be down to be the one blindfolded and have their hands tied up?”

I cough and reluctantly raise my hand in the air. My embarrassment lessens when Riley joins me, and the boys all cheer for us.

“Huddy’s been watching the ‘Juno’ positions.” Grant lifts his arms above his head and drops them against the wall behind him. “Have you ever triedthisone?”

“Very funny.” I throw a pillow at him and laugh when it hits Ethan instead. “What are we reading next month?”

“A cowboy romance. A flight attendant spends the summer in a small town and falls in love with the grumpy trail guide.” Connor pretends to ride a horse. “Yee-fucking-haw.”

“Anyone have any final thoughts or opinions about this month’s book?” Maverick asks, and when everyone breaks off into smaller groups to have personal conversations, he rolls his eyes. “Fuck me, I guess.”

“Such a sensitive soul,” I tease, laughing when he flips me off. “I’m going to head out. Feel like walking with me for a few blocks?”

“In February when it’s cold as shit?” He shrugs and grabs his beanie off the coffee table. “Why the hell not?”

We say goodbye to the boys, escaping before Ethan can make a convincing argument for a game of strip poker. When we get out to the sidewalk, I shove my hands in my coat pockets.

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