Page 13 of Lucky Laces
Missing so fucking badly that I lose my balance, that the sudden change in direction has me breaking free of the hold the defenseman has on me.
I fall forward, my stick in front of me, and it’s pure fucking luck that the blade just barely glances off the puck, sending it skittering, changing its direction, touching itjust enoughthat when the goalie lunges to the side, trying to cover it, to get a whistle and stoppage in play…it slips between his legs and crawls, oh so slowly, over the goal line and into the net.
It’s not pretty.It’s a fucking mess.
But it happens before the play is called dead because of the blood.
And the review on the play calls it a good goal.
So the crowd roars and my teammates—except Pat and Duncan and Kane—give me a chorus of “Fuck yeahs!”and a plethora of fistbumps.
I’m smiling—I make sure of that—as I accept the congratulations, the nods of approval from the coaches.
But I don’t really feel that goal, don’t really feel the high from scoring, same as I don’t really feel the towel the trainer presses against my cheeks or the stitches they give me back in the training suite before I go back out to the game.
Because it was another fuckup.
And I know that I may have bought myself a little more time.
But eventually, the fuckups going to catch up with me.
Eventually, everyone is going to find out.
And eventually…
It’s all going to be over.
Five
Diana
“Dee, baby—”
I grind my teeth together and wish—God, do Iwish—that the morning hadn’t brought me to the team’s practice facility but the arena.
At least at the arena, there’s a security guard and a fenced-in parking lot.
At least at the arena, I don’t have to deal with Jason’s shit.
Reaching into the back seat, I snag my backpack and straighten.
Unfortunately, that brings me in contact with Jason’s body.
Because he’s come even closer.
And he’s big.He’s strong.Not to mention, he smells great.
Something that makes me hate myself a little.
I have a type.I know I do.
But I’m not a slender woman—I’m full of compact strength and want someone big enough and strong enough to hold me without breaking a sweat…or their back.
The smelling good part is just…
Adult humaning.
Something that Jason struggles with in a multitude of other ways.
