Page 55 of Hat Trick
There are pucks everywhere as the teams warm up. Some are doing stretches, some are skating around, hell there’s a few of them standing in the middle of the rink shooting the shit with the other team. It all seems very chaotic, but organized. My eyes don’t know where to look as I break off a piece of my pretzel, dip it in the cheese, and pop it in my mouth.
Fuck, there’s nothing better than a concession stand pretzel.
Taking a sip of my beer and setting it back in its cup holder, my eyes dart up to the glass in front of me when I hear a loud bang. It’s none other than Dom and Emerson, lit up with smiles, banging on the glass. I can’t help it, I smile like a fucking fool.
This really is a damn boy aquarium.
I joke between my hysterical laughing, “Don’t tap on the glass, it scares them.”
They look at me like I’ve lost every marble, and I’m sure the people sitting beside me are also.
Then I watch in slow motion, as their stares simultaneously land on the front of my jersey. Emerson gets a smug look on his face noticing his name and number on the front. “She’s wearing my name,” he says loud enough for me to hear too.
Yep. Smug fuck.
Standing up, I spin around to show them Dom’s name and number on the back of the jersey. “Ha! She’s wearing mine too.” Dom doesn’t sound smug, more so shocked. I watch his face, and for a moment, a look of concern takes over him before he notices me staring and quickly covers it up with a smile.
He places his hand on the glass, and I put mine over his. Emerson’s does the same, and we all three sit there for a second, mutual understanding passing between us.
The three of us.
Together.
Always.
1 Muse - Isabel LaRosa
CHAPTER 34
A NEW MEANING TO PRE-GAME JITTERS
DOMINIC
She’s wearing my jersey.
Liliana Campos is wearing my jersey.
Well, half my jersey.
But it doesn’t matter. Because she’s here. At my game. Atourgame.
I’m equally mesmerized by the sight of her wearing our numbers as I am turned on by it. I’m not going to lie, there was a moment before she turned around and showed me the back of her jersey that I wanted to straight up punch my best friend in the face. I haven’t been jealous of him once for a single second when it comes to our relationship with Lil, but seeing the front of that jersey almost did me the fuck in.
She made it up to me, though.
I don’t know where she got that made as fast as she did, but I make a mental note to find out later so I can shout theirnames from the rooftop.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a woman look so sexy in a hockey jersey in my life.
Fuck.
Now I want to know what she looks like wearing it and nothing else.
Goddammit, now I’m hard. I find myself thankful I’m behind all my goalie gear so no one can see.
See, this is becoming another problem. Here I am, daydreaming about my girl, getting hard out on the ice in front of thousands of people, when I’m supposed to be warming up for the game.
My girl.
