Page 86 of You Had Me at Hockey

“I didn’t play for the team then,” I say. “But I’d heard the rumors about him. There’s no place for that kind of behavior or attitude in the league.” I pause. I know I have to be careful what I say, but…“I hate that fucking racist, abusive bullshit.”

“But it’s still there.”

I’d like to deny it, but I know he’s right. “Yeah. At least it’s getting more attention and we’re taking it more seriously now. We have a long way to go, and we can all do better.”

He nods.

Conversation moves to the famous author Connor met through his job at a publishing house, Sara’s attempt at rosé wine cupcakes, and then some trash talk about shuffleboard. After we eat, Sara and I head to a shuffleboard while the others go play ping-pong.

I fold back the sleeves of my button-down shirt.

“This looks serious.” Sara’s gaze follows my movements. “Your arms are hot, by the way.”

I choke. “Myarms?”

“Mmm. Yeah.”

“Okay.” She turns toward the table and I grope her butt. “Kind of like your ass.”

She jumps and flashes a sexy look over her shoulder. “Hey, now.”

We do rock, paper, scissors to see who goes first. Sara wins and elects to go first. “No, you should choose to go second,” I tell her.

She squints at me.

“Have you ever played shuffleboard?” I ask.

“No.”

“Ah. Okay, I’ll go first.”

“Can I take a few practice shots?”

“Sure.”

Sara frowns, then sets her fingers on the weight, pulls it back, then gives it a shove.

The puck goes whizzing down the board. I watch in horror, picturing it flying off the table and fracturing someone’s skull. Luckily that doesn’t happen.

Sara puts her hands over her mouth and gives me big eyes.

“Little too much weight on that,” I say.

“Right.” She tries again, and this time the weight doesn’t even make it to the center line.

“One more try. You got this.”

This one goes off the end again, but at least I don’t fear she’s going to injure someone.

“Okay.” She rubs her hands together. “I’m ready.”

I take a red puck and slide it down the board. We watch as it slows to a stop. “Damn.” It’s okay, it’s counting, but only one.

“Now, you can either try to get your puck farther past mine, or you can knock mine off.”

She nods, her forehead creased with concentration, her tongue pressed against her upper lip. Goddamn, she’s cute. She lets go of the puck with a hard shot and fuck me, she takes out mine. But hers goes off too.

She jumps up and down and turns to me, her hands in the air. We high-five. “I did it!”

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