Page 25 of Slap Shot Seduction

She giggles and then throws her head back and howls.

‘There it is,’ I say. I growl. ‘We can live in the woods and be wolves.’

‘Werewolves!” Anna yells. ‘I want to be a werewolf with you, Joe.’

She shows me her teeth.

I put my forehead to hers.

She’s all mine.

Oh, fuck, she’s really all mine.

Werewolf, zombie, or just two regular humans who are madly in love.

She’s all fucking mine.

And I’m never going to…

“… let go,” I said out loud.

Then I chuckled.

A sad, pathetic chuckle.

I put my glass down and stomped through my apartment to the bedroom and went right for the closet.

Of all things for a man like me to have hidden.

No blanket from when I was baby.

No stuffed animal I held when it thundered outside.

No photo albums of being a kid.

Hell, not even a single award or trophy that showed the path I took to the pros.

From playing for fun to playing for money.

A lot of money too.

Nothing in my closet meant a thing to me except for the shoebox hidden in the back corner of the top shelf.

Hidden under some old shirts that were tossed there on purpose.

I pulled the shirts to the floor and grabbed the shoebox.

As I walked it to the bed, I shook my head.

Knowing I was going to hurt myself here.

Knowing I couldn’t help myself.

I flipped the lid off the shoebox and stared down.

A box of notes, pictures, and random trinkets.

A faded ticket stub to a concert.

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