Page 58 of The Hat Trick

We are both drawn to the TV when we hear the crowd get louder and the camera pans just in time to show the man in question throwing off his gloves and going after another player.

“Oh my god,” I groan as we watch Matt rain his fists on the other guy before he even gets a single hit in. They end up going down to the ground, punching each other before the refs pull them apart.

Matt pushes his hair that’s fallen onto his forehead back, and I can see his bloody knuckles while he skates over to the box.

“Fucking idiot,” I mutter.

“Apparently he’s your idiot though,” Audrey smirks.

“He’s not my anything.”

Even if that was hotter than I care to admit.

My eyes don’t leave the screen as the camera stays on him, and his teammates bring over the gear he left on the ice: his mitts, helmet and stick. I see one of them is Brent, and he says something to Matt, but I’m not a great lip reader.

The game continues after Matt gets a five-minute penalty for the fight. Another player on our team gets a two-minute minor, and the opposing team scores on the power play before the end of the first period.

During the intermission I can’t help myself, and against my better judgment I text Matt.

Chandler: Do you solve everything with a fight?

Matt: Only when the other guy deserves it.

Chandler: And did he?

Matt: Yup.

Matt: Don’t worry, Bunny, I solve other things with my face in your pussy.

Chandler: You’re a pig.

Matt: Tell me you don’t want that. Lie to both of us.

Before I type out a response, I get another text.

Vince: McQuaid is smirking at his phone, is he bothering you?

Chandler: You’re really perceptive, but no, I’m fine. Thank you for checking. *Smiling emoji*

Vince: I hope you’re watching because I’m going to get a goal for you next period.

Chandler: One of you better, it would be embarrassing to be rooting for the losing team.

Vince: You got it, baby.

I choose not to text Matt back, and instead type out a message to one more person.

Chandler: Keep these guys in line.

Brent: Trust me, I’m trying.

“Are you texting each of them?” Audrey asks, while staring at me over her straw.

I lock my phone, and put it down. “No-o-o,”

She just laughs, “This is great.”

I don’t know about that. I mean, at the moment it’s pretty great. Outside the bedroom, though, I’m not too sure. I don’t know how this is expected to work, or if I even really want it to. It’s fun. I’m young, they are hot, it’s empowering, and results in orgasms. I push the doubtful thoughts out of my mind and remind myself to focus on the here and now.

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