Page 217 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
I held up my stick and waved as I skated over to the goal. The crowd cheered, and I saw the MASOs waving at me. Jackson and the twins jumped up and down, along with some other kids, including Coach K’s. The Maimers, who’d stayed to watch the game, started dancing. Somewhere out there were Mia and Gio. I’d show them I remembered everything they’d taught me.
Yeah, I’d make everyone who ever coached me proud tonight, even those who had no idea who I was now. Especially everyone who took a chance on the tiny beta girl who wanted nothing more than to be a goalie.
I’d play for every beta girl who wanted the same.
Dimitri and Nakey were there waiting for me at the goal.
“We have you, Bozh’ya Korovka,” Dimitri told me. “They’re rough, but we know you’re not a delicate little flower.”
“I am so a delicate fucking flower.” My belly tightened as I skated back and forth a bit, marking up the ice just the way I liked it. “A carnivorous one.”
The play began, and as expected, Austin came right for me, with those fucking skates. Even though we hadn’t played together in years, I knew all his tricks–we’d still practice together.
Not to mention I’d studied him as I’d tried to figure out who he was. He’d been having a little trouble since his favorite shotwasn’tPHL legal. I’d warned him, but he always knew better than me.
Austin took the shot and came in hard and fast, and I smacked it right back onto the ice, sending everyone scrambling for the puck.
Everyone except Austin.
“I’m not going easy on you,” he snarled as the ice crew came out to sweep the ice.
All I could do was laugh. He’dnevergone easy on me. That wasn’t the relationship we had. We went all out on each other to help make each other good.
“Eat a bag of dicks, Toilette. You and your knotwaffle brothers are messier than a badger in a dumpster of waffles. You certainly aren’t scoring on me today,” I sneered back.
“Get out of here,” Dimitri told him, and Austin skated off. He turned to me. “I’ll buy you a present if you don’t let him score.”
“Keeping him from scoring is my present,” I replied, giving the goal post a pat.Good post.
No, today was not the day Bronson fucking Deloitte would score his first regular season PHL goal. No goals for assholes. Not today. Not ever.
Play re-started and I monitored the puck as the action stayed down on the Gears’ end, though I knew Austin and his brothers were going to come at me with everything they had.
The best revenge is to thrive.
Watch me fucking thrive.
Number 17 had the puck and headed for me, number 18 on his heels. They tended to tag-team and give each other the assist.
Nerves coursed through me. I was playing in a PHL game. Against my asshole ex.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
Think tacos.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed it away. Yes, because for every puck I stopped, I got a taco. Not one puck was getting in. All those tacos belonged to me. It was time to bring the sauce.
I’m Gwen Fucking Di Rossi and I was made for this.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Tenzin
The puck struck Dean’s mask, shooting back onto the ice, and he slumped to the ground. My belly clenched. This had been a rough game. At least we were in the last period. My ribs smarted. Clark had a black eye. Griff’s face was cut.
Jonas and the linesmen helped Dean off the ice. Dean was out.
Which meant…
