Page 18 of Slap Shot Surprise
I nodded, recalling her muscular calves. “I bet you were fast.”
“Not really.” She laughed. “I always thought I’d have done better if I was a little taller. But my brothers got all the height.”
“Ah.”
“I was also in the school musicals. And I was president of the French club.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever been in a musical, but I do know some French words—not that I’d say them in front of you.”
She smiled. “Where’d you learn them?”
“I know a bunch of French-Canadian hockey players. Those motherfuckers have filthy mouths.” I sipped my beer, enjoying her girlish laugh. “So is your family still around here?”
“Yes. My dad lives in the house where I grew up. One of my brothers lives in town, and the other three live within an hour of here.”
“You havefourolder brothers?” Lightning flashed silently over the water, the roll of thunder following a few seconds later. The smell of ozone permeated the air.
She nodded. “Yep. And we were raised by a single dad. Alotof testosterone in that house. Dating was, to say the least, difficult.”
“I can imagine,” I said, recalling how Gianni, Paul, and I used to stare down the chumps who came sniffing around Francesca in high school. I wondered what happened to her mom but didn’t feel like I should ask.
“They were always threatening to beat up anyone I brought home. They thought everybody had an attitude.” She sighed, looking out at the lake. “Sometimes I think that’s why I date a certain type of guy.”
“What type is that?”
“Quiet. Reserved. Nice. No alpha male energy.”
“Nothing wrong with nice guys,” I said, althoughclearly there was plenty wrong with the dumbasses she’d been in bed with.
“No, and I would never date an asshole, but...” She seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say next.
“But what?”
“This is going to sound bad.”
“Try me.”
She tucked in her lips for a moment, her eyes on the approaching storm. The air was thicker now. Charged with electricity. “Sometimes—in certain situations—I wish they’d stop being so reserved and go a little alpha male on me.”
“What kind of situations?”
Her shoulders rose. She looked at me sideways. “You know. When they’re lining up the shot.”
“Ah.” Wind came out of the south, blowing her hair in front of her shoulders and carrying the scent of her perfume. I breathed it in—something sensual and sweet that made my mouth water. Vanilla maybe?
She looked down at her feet. Her toes were painted bright pink. “Of course, maybe I’m talking out both sides of my mouth, since I also want someone unselfish who cares about how I feel too. Maybe that’s too much to ask for.”
“I don’t think so.” I hesitated. “Can I ask you something personal? If you don’t want to answer, you can tell me to fuck off.”
She finished her champagne. “Go ahead. I’m the one who put all my personal business out there last night.”
Lightning flashed again, the reverberation of thunder close behind. I felt it rumble beneath our feet. “Has anyone ever comecloseto the goal?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively. “The goal has seemed attainablea few times. Like, things were in place, and it felt like the timing was going to be right. But somehow...”
“They still managed to miss the shot.”
“Exactly. But—never mind.” She faced the water.
