Page 25 of Lucky Shot (Moonshot Hockey #1)

RUBY

I am a badass hockey player. I eat professional hockey players for breakfast. I am a mean, lean, puck-scoring machine.

I tilt my head back to see out of the helmet. It’s fallen down into my eyes again. Nick smirks back, almost like he can read the internal pep talk I’m giving myself.

We’re back at the rink today. Camp is over and Aidan is visiting his mom this week, so I’ve got the grumpy hockey player to myself this morning. I couldn’t wait to get back and try again, despite the ache of my body…everywhere.

I stand in front of him in skates and pads (and the most unflattering helmet ever). I probably look ridiculous, but I don’t care.

“Show me the deke again,” I say, voice echoing in the rafters.

He backs up (why is skating backward so hot?!), grinning in a way that has my heart fluttering. There’s not even a hint of the grumpy man I first met.

“I’m not usually faking out people using a skating aid.”

I stick my tongue out at him. My butt cannot take another fall. Neither can my pride.

“Don’t get cocky, Galaxy. I’m going to stop this one.”

He doesn’t even bother smack-talking back. We both know the only way I’m stopping the puck from going into the goal behind me is if he lets me.

With the stick in his right hand, he pushes off his left skate.

Leaning forward, his other hand wraps around the stick and he moves toward me with the puck.

He shifts his weight from side to side. I’m enthralled and my pulse speeds up as he gets closer.

I know it’s coming, but when he fakes left and snaps the puck to the right and easily shoots it past me, I’m still impressed.

“I almost had it,” I say, turning to the goal. With one hand on the skating aid, I use the other to fish the puck out with my stick. “Don’t defenders know it’s coming?”

“Players have tells and we all have our go-to moves, but at any given moment a guy might go left or right or take a shot. A good hockey player reads the defense and adjusts.”

“And a good defender?” I ask since that is my current role – however ineffective.

“Is always one step ahead,” he says, swiping the puck back from me and skating away before I can do anything about it.

“Cute,” I mutter.

He circles around the goal and heads back in front of me. “Do you want to give it a try?”

I shake my head. All morning he’s been showing me different things. From slap shots to backhands, all the different penalties, he even humored me by showing me how fast he can skate from one end to the other. The answer: very fast.

“All right. What else do you need for Act One?”

The butterflies in my stomach flutter and then drop.

The reminder of my book and how much work I still need to do feels overwhelming.

Today we’ve been focusing on all the hockey scenes in the first ten chapters or Act One.

It’s cute he remembered. I force a smile.

He’s been so helpful and so concentrated on doing whatever it is that I need.

Above and beyond what I ever imagined from anyone, let alone the grump I thought he was.

“Galaxy!”

Nick and I turn as Danny skates onto the ice. He’s dressed casually like Nick in athletic pants and a T-shirt.

My eyes go to the tattoos on his forearms as he gets closer. They’re beautiful, colorful and intricate. I’m drawn to the red and white cartoon rocket, but before I can make out any of the other individual artwork pieces, Conrad appears as well, followed by Travis.

The men are all geared up with their sticks. Conrad has on his helmet and the other two carry theirs.

“What are you guys doing here?” Nick asks, moving closer to me.

“Trav said you’d be here,” Danny says. “Thought we could get in a little friendly scrimmage.”

I feel Nick’s body tense beside me. His arm brushes against mine as he says, “Sorry. I promised Ruby I’d help her with her book today.”

“It’s okay.” We’ve been at it for a few hours and I’m well aware I’m taking up a lot of his time. “I think I got what I need.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. Plus, my fingers hurt from holding on to the skating aid so tightly.”

“All right.” He turns to me and lowers his voice. “I’ll give you a lift back.”

“No. Stay with your friends. I’m going to grab an Uber to MVP.”

“Craving a bad burger?”

“It’s all about the atmosphere,” I tell him, skating as coolly as one can with a colorful walker. “Thanks for the lesson, Galaxy.”

I flick my gaze to his friends. “Watch out for his deke. He really favors the right side.”

Travis busts out laughing first, the rest joining in. Nick’s mouth falls open.

“I was teaching. That wasn’t my best stuff!” he yells after me.

I smush my lips together to keep from laughing, inevitably failing. “Whatever you say, Galaxy.”

I’m floating when I walk into MVP. Not even the hostess’s heavy sigh or annoyance as she sets down the menu in front of me gets me down. When the server walks up, I shut the menu and look up. I trust Nick that the burger is the only safe option.

“Hey, darling, what can I get you to drink?” the guy asks as he pulls a pen out of his pocket and poises it over a pad of paper.

Recognition flickers as I look from his face to the nametag, which reads, “Lonnie.”

“Bobby?” Otherwise known as Curtis at the rental car place.

“MINI Cooper girl.”

“Ruby,” I remind him.

“How’s Moonshot treating you?” He lets both hands fall to his sides as he smiles at me.

“It’s been good.” My brow furrows. “You work here too?”

“One of many jobs. I like to keep busy and try out a bunch of different careers, you know?”

I nod. I kind of do get that. One of my favorite things about writing characters is putting myself in different mindsets and situations, kind of like trying on different jobs.

“Anywho…” He twirls his pen in one hand.

“Can I get a water, and do you have any coffee back there?”

He makes a face. “Yes.”

“That bad, huh?” I laugh. “Just the water is fine.”

“Good choice. Back in a minute.” He turns on his heel and heads off, returning not long after with my drink. I order the burger and then settle in with my laptop, notes, and a buzz of information in my head from being on the ice with Nick the past two days.

I start by typing out everything I can remember.

From the way the skates felt tight on my feet—something Nick assured me was important, the difficulty of holding the stick in gloved hands, to the nip of the air as we circled the rink, and the exhilaration of finally hitting the puck into the goal.

I can see why he loves it so much. It’s hard, like writing the first draft of a book, but once you conquer it, there’s no better feeling.

My eyes are bleary, and my half-eaten burger is cold when I finally stop typing. I glance down at the bottom left of the screen. Eight pages of notes. It’s more than I’ve written in…as long as I can remember.

Sure, it’s not a book, yet, but it’s something.

I pick up my phone to text Olivia and tell her I’ve broken through my slump, but a text from Lily is already waiting for me.

I smile as I tap on her name. Between the time difference and her touring schedule, we’ve barely had a chance to talk since I’ve been here.

Lily

Have you seen this?

I type back a reply before clicking the link she sent.

Me

Hi! I miss you. How are you? How’s the tour?

I can’t wait to hear all about her week.

Her publisher sent her to independent bookstores around the country to celebrate her latest book.

I’m so happy for her and excited for her to fill me in on all the usual things: the joy of reader interactions and signing until her wrist hurts, and the less than glamorous travel delays and bags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

I’m not even feeling any jealousy or sadness wondering if I’ll ever publish a book and go on tour again.

And I guess that’s why I’m not prepared when I click the link.

I assumed she sent me a news article or interview she’d done while I’ve been in Moonshot with my grumpy hockey player and not keeping up with the world.

Instead, I’m greeted with a headshot of Matt in a shirt I bought him before I knew he was a lying, manipulative, book-stealing asshole.

Gradient Pictures To Develop Matthew Rose’s Best-Selling Novel Becoming Alaric

My stomach drops and an acidic taste fills my mouth. I should have seen this coming. It’s the biggest book of the year, maybe of the decade. Of course someone was going to adapt it for television. With my luck there’ll be merchandise and kids dressing up as the characters for Halloween.

I skim the article and then close out and go back to my messages with Lily.

She sent another text.

Lily

Proof that good things happen to bad people. Are you okay?

Me

Fine.

Lily

Is that a real fine or an ‘I’m currently plotting a novel where he gets decapitated’ fine?

Me

The second.

Definitely the second.