Page 46 of Slapshot
“Kaitlyn here thinks she can beat me at washers,” Patrick says with a slow shake of his head.
My girl doesn’t back down. No shocker there. Her shoulders straighten as she stands tall. “I don’t think. Iknow.”
Patrick is arrogant and usually rightfully so. He’s the best at just about any games we play. He finishes off his beer. “Let’s see it then.”
I grab Kaitlyn’s wrist to slow her before she leaves me again. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she parrots with a smirk and pulls free. “Ready to see me kick his ass?”
“He’s pretty good.”
“So am I.”
Patrick grabs the washers, hands Kaitlyn hers, and moves back to the opposite side.
“Ladies first,” Patrick says and waves for her to go ahead.
“Is she any good?” I ask Vivian while Kaitlyn lines up and prepares to throw her first washer.
“I have no idea, but if I know my girl, she wouldn’t make a dare she couldn’t win. I hope she destroys him.”
I chuckle. “Of course you do.” Then I take a step back from her. She does have beer in her hand after all.
Kaitlyn pitches her first washer, and we watch as it sails through the air, hits the rim of the hole, and then bounces out of the box.
Patrick whistles and shakes his head. He tosses his first washer, and it lands inside the box.
A crowd starts to form as the two battle it out. Kaitlyn’s good but Patrick maintains his lead, capitalizing any time Kaitlyn misses.
We all want to see Patrick get beat. He’s a likable guy—always up for a good time but serious when he steps out onto the ice—but still, seeing Kaitlyn put up a decent fight against him has us cheering her on as it comes down to the final toss. Patrick needs one more point, so he only needs to get it into the box. If Kaitlyn misses, she loses. The only way she can win is to get it into the hole. Something she’s only managed once all game.
Pat pitches his and it hits the back of the box and narrowly misses the hole, ending up in the front of the box. “That’s game,” he calls with a smug smile.
“Not so fast,” Kaitlyn says. “Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.”
“Bock, bock.” He laughs.
Kaitlyn blows out a breath and holds the washer out in front of her, lining up and then pitching it. I fucking hold my breath like it’s the world championship.
The yard explodes with cheers as her washer lands square in the hole. Patrick’s jaw drops. “What?! No way! No way!” He takes off running around the yard screaming like an idiot.
I start to walk over to Kaitlyn. She’s got a victorious and amused look on her face. A couple of the guys rush her before I get there and hoist her up on their shoulders, chanting her name.
“Nice game,” I shout up to her. She smiles down at me as the guys move with her around the yard.
Patrick finally completes his lap of defeat and stops in front of me, out of breath. “She beat me.”
“I saw.”
“Fuck.” He slaps me on the shoulder. “Guess it’s time to drink. I’m good sober, but drunk, I’m unbeatable. Rematch in thirty.”
When the guys finally drop her, Kaitlyn wanders over to me.
“You’ve officially won over the team.”
She chuckles. “They’re drunk.”
“I’m glad you came.”
