Page 58 of Slap Shot

“Do you want me to start conducting a survey?” I ask.

“Yes,” they all say.

“Who are you dating right now anyway?” Connor asks. “You haven’t mentioned anyone in a while.”

I shrug. “Because I’m not dating anyone.”

“Uh oh. Did our resident romantic turn into a cynic?” Riley sighs. “Dammit. You were my only hope for believing in love, Hayes.”

“I’m not a cynic. I just…” I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll get back out there, but for now it’s nice to enjoy what’s happening around me.”

“You love to date,” Maverick says, and I shrug again.

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.

Too soft for an athlete, an ex called me.

You’re mature, but I want someone who’s a little wilder, another said.

Maybe I am losing hope.

Maybe every day I become less of a romantic and more okay with the possibility of being alone.

Maybe not everyone finds that great love, and I’m one of the unlucky ones.

“I do. I also have two new roommates and a hockey season to focus on. I’m busy doing other things, and that’s okay,” I say. “Now that we’ve gotten the conversation about my nonexistent dating life out of the way, can we get back to the book please?”

“Not yet,” Liam says. “How’s it going with Madeline and Lucy?”

That surprises me.

Liam’s never been one to care about what goes on off the ice. In fact, he actively avoids it.

There’s a hint of protectiveness behind his question, though, and it makes me think I need to answer very carefully or he’ll put a fist in my face.

“Really well,” I say. “We go to the park with the dogs and hang out. Madeline is a great chef, and we get along well.”

I leave out the part where we sat on my couch together the other night. How her laughs turned into snorts and how I couldn’t help having one more glass of wine because it meant spending a little more time with her.

I didn’t regret a single minute of it when I got to practice the next day.

“Piper likes Madeline. And I love Piper. I’m not going to be happy if the woman I care about loses a friend because you can’t keep those precious hands of yours to yourself.”

“When did tonight go from book club to a pile-on-Hudson discussion?” I grumble. “It’s not like that with her. We’re friends, and we established a professional relationship early on.”

“Good.” Liam smiles, and it freaks me out. “Why did you like the book?”

“Oh. Um. I thought it was relatable. It’s a professional athlete falling for a woman with a normal job who doesn’t care about how much money he made or what his stats were. She loved him, not the fame.”

Riley pinches my cheek. “I knew that romantic guy was still in there.”

“Can we talk about NBA money for a second?” Ethan interrupts, and I’m glad to get the attention off myself. “What’s with the NHL’s bullshit seventeen point six million a year rule? You’ve got point guards in the NBA earning fifty-five millionayearand I’m out here getting fucking eight? I should’ve learned how to hoop.”

“They don’t let gingers shoot the ball,” Grant says, and chaos ensues when our center launches himself at our right winger.

I lean back and let them go at each other. They’re always like this, and they won’t cause any actual damage. At twenty-three and twenty-four, they’re the youngest of the group, and it’s good to see they’re not growing up too fast.

“How long are you going to let them flail around before you stop them?” I ask Maverick, and he snorts.

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