Page 32 of Lucky Shot (Moonshot Hockey #1)

I know the ending is rough and I’m dreading the rewrites when I reach that point, but I’m making progress. A hundred pages to go. Totally doable, I hope.

I manage to focus for a short time while Nick finishes up his workout. When he’s done, he takes a seat on the bench behind me and wraps me up in his arms.

“You’re sweaty,” I say, leaning into his embrace.

“Am I? I didn’t notice.”

I swat at him playfully and turn to face him.

I want to kiss him, but I don’t know what the rules are.

We are at his place of employment, even if there have been very few people popping in, outside of his friends.

He erases my hesitation by capturing my chin between his thumb and finger and dropping his mouth to mine.

“Yowza! Get it, Galaxy!” Travis calls from somewhere in the room.

I laugh against Nick’s mouth, but neither of us pulls back. I’m pretty sure Nick flips him off because I feel his right arm lift into the air.

When we break apart, he’s grinning at me in a way that makes my stomach flip. He’s wearing a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a scar on his right shoulder catches my attention.

“What’s this from?” I run my finger underneath the red mark.

“I had surgery earlier this year.”

“The injury that ended your season?” I read about it, of course, and watched the video.

He collided with another player during a game.

He got up on his own, but immediately skated off and didn’t return.

The details on his injuries were vague, but they did say he should return this season, which I’d already pieced together seeing him in person.

“Yeah, I broke my collarbone and dislocated my shoulder.”

I wince. “Sounds painful.”

“Nick and Ruby sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Travis sings in a playful voice.

“It was. Not as painful as listening to him though.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I ask.

“Getting hurt or Trav being obnoxious?”

I laugh. “The first thing.”

“Right, because you already know he makes being obnoxious a full-time job.” Nick’s smile pulls higher on one side, then falters slightly. “Yeah. Injuries are a part of the job, for sure.”

“The worst I have to deal with is eye strain from staring at the screen too long or the occasional hand pain from typing too much.”

“And no annoying teammates.”

“You love them.”

He sighs, still grinning. “I do, unfortunately.”

After the guys are done, we gear up. I’m more nervous with Travis and Conrad around to witness my skills, or lack thereof, but Nick is so damn comforting.

“You got it, Red. Nice and easy. Grab on to me if you need.”

I’m not sure if I need to or not, but I take the opportunity to touch him. He skates backward in front of me. So smooth, so confident, so damn hot.

He’s in practice gear—padding, jersey, helmet, the works. He’s a big guy and I always feel small next to him but now more than ever.

“If I punched you in the stomach, would you even feel it?”

He quirks a brow. “I don’t know, but you’d probably throw off your momentum and fall.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he’s got a point.

“Are you looking forward to the season starting?” I ask. I overheard Travis talking about how he was excited to get back to it in a few weeks.

“Yeah.” He bobs his head as he answers, not sounding all that convincing.

“But?”

“I get to spend more time with Aidan during the summer and being gone so much is hard on him.”

“On him or you?”

He gives me a sheepish smile. “A little of both, probably.”

“Is your schedule and juggling time with Aidan why you haven’t tried to date?” I ask. He told me last night that he’s kept things casual out of convenience but the more I’ve thought about it, the more it feels like a poor excuse.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to work around hockey and everything else. You’re a catch.”

He keeps smiling, but he isn’t quite selling it.

I stop skating and so does he. With one hand on his forearm, I steady myself. “What’s the real story behind why you and Aidan’s mom didn’t work out?”

Immediately, his expression shifts and he looks like he’d rather face-plant into the ice than tell me.

“Sorry. It’s none of my business.” I flash him an apologetic smile. “I’ve gotten so used to interviewing you.”

I drop my hand and start skating again, moving past him. He catches up, staying beside me.

“There really isn’t much else to say. We were both busy and neither of us made enough of an effort to keep things going.”

“That surprises me.”

He raises both brows in silent question.

“You don’t seem like the type to do anything halfway.”

A small smile lifts one side of his mouth.

“I think you’d be a good boyfriend, though, for the record. Who knew beyond all that grump you were such a nice, considerate guy?”

He lets out a hearty guffaw that lightens the mood between us.

“Ruby-Doo!” Travis calls, voice booming around the tall, echo-y ceilings.

I glance at him as he skates up. He smirks as he comes to a hard stop that sprays ice in front of me. I startle, which makes me wobble. Nick’s hands are lightning fast, gripping my waist and steadying me.

“Dude. She’s still learning. Take it easy,” Nick admonishes him without any real bite in his tone.

“Sorry, Rube.”

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Absolutely,” Travis says at the same time as Nick says, “No.”

I am a safety hazard, but that looked fun. I side-eye Nick and then turn my attention to Travis. “What’s up?”

“Question for you.”

“Sure.”

His smirk should be the indication that he’s about to ask me something ludicrous, but I’m too distracted by Nick’s hands still circling my waist and my pulse racing for the same reason.

“When you said I was the most handsome hockey player you knew, were you trying to ease the pain after breaking my heart or do you really think I’m a ten?”

“Fucking hell,” Nick mutters, then chuckles softly under his breath.

“I said you were hot and charming,” I correct him.

“ Suuuuper hot.” He beams and then winks at the guy next to me.

“And you wonder why we’re all single,” Nick says to me.

“You are hot and charming,” I assure Travis. “I didn’t say you were the hottest or most charming.”

“Fine. Fine. But if Nick fucks this up, then I might have a chance?”

I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s fucking with Nick and not at all interested in me that way, but I’m not going to lie, my ego still appreciates him shooting his shot.

“All right. Back to your side of the rink.” Nick shoos him, then pulls me after him as he skates away.

For the rest of the afternoon, I alternate between trying not to fall on the ice and trying not to be distracted by Nick while I write. I fail on both accounts.

When we get back to the house, I’m hoping to lure him into the cabin for more making out, but Aidan comes running out the front door as soon as we arrive.

“Hey, there he is.” Nick hops out of the truck and walks quickly to his son, pulling him into a hug.

I get out of the vehicle but hang back, watching them and thinking about how good of a dad Nick is and how fortunate Aidan is to have him, and missing Olivia and Greer and the rest of my family terribly.

“Thanks for your help today,” I call to Nick as I take a step toward the cabin. I lift a hand to Aidan. “Hi.”

Aidan waves back. “I learned a new song while I was gone!”

“Really?” I ask.

He nods. “Sort of. I’m working on it.”

“That’s great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

He looks adorably pleased at my interest.

“I’m going to head back and do some writing.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder.

“Can I come play you the song later?” Aidan asks, surprising me, and I think his dad too.

“Yeah, of course.” I look to Nick. He has one hand protectively on his son’s shoulders. “As long as your dad says it’s okay.”

“Fine by me.” Nick gives me a half smile.

“Cool. I’m going to grab my guitar and come right over.” Aidan runs into the house, leaving me and Nick alone outside again.

Nick comes back down the steps, and we meet halfway. I’m glad. I don’t want to be away from him just yet.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “I can hold him off for a few hours if you want time to write.”

“No. I like the noise.”

“All right.”

Neither of us moves.

“See you tomorrow morning?” he asks. One hand reaches forward and his fingers brush against mine.

“Yeah. I’m sure I’ll have a few more hockey questions as I go through the last half of the book.”

“And then it’s just editing?”

“And hopefully coming up with another idea I can pitch my agent.”

“You will.”

The sound of Aidan’s guitar has Nick stepping away. He continues to face me, smiling in a way that makes me wonder if he’s remembering the last time we stood here and how differently it ended.

“Later, Red.”

“Later, Galaxy. Thanks for last night.”