Scoring Plays
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Schroeder's blue eyes widened before he was able to school his expression back into something like pleasantly neutral.
Not my one night stand from a year ago is now my teammate shocked. Which meant he was doing a hell of a lot better than Joey was.
Series
- Part 1 of Scoring Plays
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Whitty never texted back. Never called. Never contacted Shawn.
Not until five years later, after an NHL game during which Shawn had definitely punched him in the face, when he sent: this isn't how you used to play.
Series
- Part 2 of Scoring Plays
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Well, despite the secrets he was keeping from most of the world, Markus was a blunt, nosy bitch. Just ask Adam and Shawn. “So why are you here?” Here, as in Connecticut. Here, as in at this tiny practice rink. Here, as in the AHL.
“Trying for a comeback, baby,” Frost said with a grin. He jogged past Markus out onto the ice. There seemed to be a slight stutter to his stride, but maybe Markus was just imagining it. He followed, heart still pounding and breathing still shallow.
Series
- Part 3 of Scoring Plays
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“And you happened to have the app open after the game—”
“Hey, you messaged me.” And fuck, he was right.
“A game in which you scored on me twice and—don’t even try it,” Tyler continued, holding up a hand as Graham moved closer, angling to try and shut him up with a kiss like they were in some sort of stupid romcom, “I don’t kiss hookups.”
That made the big man freeze in his tracks, “What?”
“If you want to fuck me, you have to follow the Rules.”
Series
- Part 4 of Scoring Plays