Page 163 of Hat Trick

“How did you get so good at billiards?” she asks. “Weren’t you too busy playing hockey to excel at anything else?”

“I was a talented child athlete with many skills.” I knock the eight ball, but it spins off the edge of the table and comes to a stop in the middle of the felt. “But you can thank my dad. I traveled a lot for sports, obviously, and we’d always find a place to play no matter what city we were in. It was a good way for me to get my mind off the games I had ahead of me. When I was on the ice, I was locked in. Off the ice when I wasn’t practicing, I did things other than hockey. It was sacrilegious to some of my teammates, but I think that’s what helped me be as good as I used to be.”

“That’s smart.” Lexi finally pockets another ball and pumps her fist in the air. “And it’s cute to imagine you in bars when you were eleven.”

“I always ordered cheese fries and drank a Shirley Temple. I was living the dream.”

“I’ll say.” She misses again and frowns. “You’re up. This is for all the marbles.”

“Left corner,” I say, lining my cue up with the eight ball again. I close one eye and bite the tip of my tongue, grinning when the ball sinks straight into the pocket. “And that’s the game.”

“Well played, Mitchell.” She puts her cue back on the rack and holds out her hand. “A valiant effort.”

“And a worthy opponent.” I give her palm a shake and keep our fingers interlocked. “C’mon. There’s a tattoo parlor just up the road, and then we have one more stop to make after.”

“This is an action-packed date. There hasn’t been a dull moment.”

“I aim to please, Armstrong.”

The walk to the shop is quick. When we step inside the space, we’re greeted and given an available slot. After filling out a shit ton of legal paperwork, the tattoo artist waves us over, and we head for the booth to the left of the shop.

“What’s my punishment, sugar?” Lexi asks, grinning when I blush and run a hand through my hair. “Do I get to put your hockey number on the inside of my wrist? MaybeRiley’s girlon my lower back?”

“All great ideas, but not on brand with who you are. And you haven’t ever worn my number. Tattooing it on your body seems extreme.”

“Do you want me to wear your number?”

“Seems silly now, doesn’t it? I’m not going to wear a hockey jersey again. You shouldn’t have to.”

She hums and hops on the table. “Guess I’ll have to find another Stars player I like. I wonder if Grant is available.”

“No fucking way,” I say, putting my hands on either side of her hips. “It’s my jersey or no jersey, Lexi.”

“Possessive Riley comes out. I like it.” She tilts her chin back and laughs. “Fine. No one else’s jersey.”

“Good.”

“Hey, folks. What are we getting done today? Do you want to see a sample of ideas, or do you have something in mind already?” the artist asks, and Lexi gestures my way.

“Whatever this guy decides. We just met at a bar, and he talked me into getting matching tattoos. I don’t even know his name,” she says, and I laugh.

“What’s your ugliest tattoo?” I ask. “Something you’d be horrified to actually put on someone’s body.”

“I did a pile of shit once,” he says. “Including flies.”

“If you make me get shit on my body, I will murder you, Riley Mitchell,” Lexi warns.

“No shit. I promise. I was thinking more like five hearts. Either connected or staggered above each other,” I say. “And maybe a puck in the middle of them.”

“Is this like a nine lives thing? Or how many hearts I’ve broken?”

“Do you really think I’d ask you to put something related toa manon your body? The five hearts are for you and the girls.” I slide my hands up her thighs, and her eyes widen. “Your best friends and the loves of your life. I know they’re important to you.”

“That—” She bites her bottom lip and sniffs. A tear rolls down her cheek, but she wipes it away before it has time to dry. “I really like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s… it’s so me.”

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