Page 224 of Snap Shot

“Yes!” Her eyes rolled, pussy tightening when I throttled that red clit with my thumb.

“Fuckkkk,” I groaned, pushing my choked cock as far as it could go until it emptied every last drop into her. We panted through laughs and tongue-filled kisses until our breaths slowed. “It's like I've already won tonight.”

Except we haven't.

“Jesus.” I shake my head and jump to my feet, whizzing past Skylar and Jaeg to the press box.

Gabe's camerawoman shuts the viewing window as I approach and calls out her name in warning. “Finch! Incoming!”

Loud raps from my blade on the plexiglass startle everyone except my girl's best friend.

“What do you want?”

“Where the hell is she? I can't find her anywhere!” The interrogation sounds more like a whine.

“You'resoneedy.”

My blade meets the glass again.

“I'm not fucking around!” I yell over the music. “I won't win without seeing her.”

Gabe shoos away the stylist fixing her hair and makeup. “She'll be here. Stop wigging out.”

I groan through my teeth, frustrated at how close to game time it is.

“Go bother Bea,” Gabe dismisses me, pointing to where she sits. “They drove here together. I'm about to go live.”

After weaving through my stretching teammates and flicking away a rogue puck right into the open goal, I skate to a stop halfway around the rink. The WAG section is bare, thanks to most of the team's perpetual singlehood.

“Behraz—” Sweetness blankets my words. “Where is my girlfriend?”

She loudly mouths fistful after fistful of popcorn. “Be more obsessed, Landon. I dare you! She went to get snacks.”Crunchety crunch. “Also—”Chomp chomp. “Consider this your warning. If you win this game, don't propose at the end.”

“What?Pfft,” I deny and sputter. “I wasn't gonna. Sheesh.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. I'm just sayin'.” Bea beckons me closer to the glass and cups a hand around her mouth to amplify her voice. “I think you've watched enough Bollywood flicks to know what she wants. Shelovesthe cheesy shit.”

“What cheesy shit?”

“Oooh,nachos!” Bea's narrow attention span inadvertently saves our asses. “I knew you'd bring me some.Yummmm. Extra jalapeños!” She takes a beer from Indi. “God bless America!”

I press my glove into the clear surface, loving the way she swims in my hockey sweater. “Hi, baby.”

She holds her hand up on the other side, a hint of pride in her dimples and gleaming brown eyes. “Hey, Radek.”

“Alright, here we go,” I say, pushing back and tucking my stick in an armpit. “I can't score without a good luck pic. Lemme see what you got.”

My fingers form a square to frame her adorable self and I squint an eye through it, miming taking a snap shot of Indi while she places a hand behind her head, tits perky—something she calls the “Madhuri Dixit.” Whatever that means. I'll Google it later.

“Clickclick.” Polaroid printing noises and a fake arrow to the heart upon seeing the invisible developed photo have the three of them giggling.

“You guys aresocute,” Skylar gushes.

“And I'msosingle.” Bea wipes a glop of liquid cheese from her face. She fake-cries into her beer. “When is it my turn?”

Indi nudges her with an elbow. “Maybe soon. Donovan's staring right at you.” My girl throws a side glance for confirmation. I wink back.

She chokes on a tortilla chip. “Is he, really?”

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