Page 70 of Riding the Pine

They’re in the third period. It’s almost time to see my guy. It’s nice that they’re winning and all, yadda yadda, but ultimately, I just want to see my guy.

We decided not to tell anyone yet. We agreed that if something went wrong between us in the beginning, like with teething problems and whatever and we broke up, we wouldn’t want to tell my brothers and have them go on that ride with us.

We’ll tell them when we know everything’s, you know, holding steady.

I dunno. There’s something nice about no one else knowing, or having an opinion, or getting involved in my relationship with Scott.

Raccoons win the puck from the faceoff, but it’s quickly turned over. One of the Wolves plays it up, it’s kept alive by oneof his teammates. He’s charging right in toward my brother in the goal, shit, he’s taking a shot.

I hold my breath but there’s no need, Ares snatches the puck from the air, depriving his opponent from getting off the ground and on the scoreboard.

It’s one-nil to the Raccoons. One adjustment I’d like to see them make in their game play right now is to try to get more transition with two or three bodies, like would it kill them to get a couple of two-on-ones going?

We all know that you want to get their goalie moving more from side to side, it’s the only way they’re going to beat him tonight. He’s good, a worthy competitor to face my brother, but the Raccoons should have more in the net than they do right now.

They need to stop swatting at the puck, and actually—shit, Artemis is called for a high stick, and they’re checking for blood.

The linesman says no blood, but it is a power play for the Wolves.

What is it about the penalty kill that gets me all worked up? I mean, there’s something so delicious about watching Scott patrol in front of Ares. Those thick thighs working overtime as he busts his ass to keep the puck out of the net for two minutes while Artemis sits in time out.

Scott’s exhausted, his movements slow and heavy. They need a line change that isn’t coming. Somehow, he perseveres and helps to keep the puck out of Ares’s net.

That’s it, I’ve decided. The penalty kill is sexy.

Something about the way the sweat streams down his face, the determination etched in his stoic features, his strong body taking a pounding and not giving up.

The temptation to slip my hand into my pjs is overwhelming, but it would be weird when my brothers are on the screen too, so I resist the urge.

If I wasn’t on my period, that man would learn just how impressive I think he is on the ice.

I must have fallen asleep. My phone vibrating next to my head makes me snap upright with a start, something’s stuck to my face. A swipe of my fingers tells me it’s half a Ghirardelli square.

Just call me classy.

Scott’s name is on my screen.

Gizmo: I’m about to head your way. Need anything?

Athena: I think I fell asleep somewhere between the penalty kill and the end of the game. How did you do?

Gizmo: Two-nil. Midol?

There’s already a smile curving my lips upward.

Athena: I’m good thanks.

Gizmo: Tampons? I’m not afraid to buy them, you know. I might bring you the wrong ones, or bring you all of them in the entire store, but I’m willing to try.

I’m straight up laughing now. He’s such a dork. Adorable, but a dork. Adorkable.

Athena: I use a cup.

It’s probably an overshare, but he kind of did ask.

Gizmo: Snacks?

I reattach the Ghirardelli square to my face, snap a super sexy selfie, and send it to him.

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