Grace on the Rocks: A Slapshot Prequel (Slapshot Prequel Trilogy Book 2)

by Heather C. Myers

  Alec only had the puck for a couple of seconds, at best. He skated closer to the net and crossed it to Kyle. Emma was surprised that she hadn’t noticed him before, standing almost idly by, waiting patiently for the puck to reach him. He reached the black rubber just in time and reached his stick out – it really looked that easy – in order to shoot the puck into the right corner of the net.

  And just like that, the Gulls scored.

  Emma couldn’t stop herself from jumping to her feet, cheering and clapping. Her father, a man who normally showed his enthusiasm whenever his team scored and was therefore on his feet as well, was startled, but smiled. At that moment, to Emma, it looked as though he didn’t even care if she was learning about hockey for a guy because they were both cheering. They were both happy. They were bonding.

  “What a shot,” he told her, increasing the level of his voice so that it carried over the cheering of the crowd. “See? Underwood’s the one we have to watch. You’ll see.”

  Emma felt ecstatic. She couldn’t really explain the feeling except that she wasn’t just happy that her team scored and that they were ahead, but she was happy for Kyle himself. Because looking at him right now showed just how happy he was. His fellow teammates skated over to him, pulling him into a tight hug, and the announcer seemed particularly enthusiastic when announcing the goal, which of course just caused the fans to start cheering once again.

  The celebration was cut short. The coach changed players so fresh legs were on the ice, and the puck was dropped at center ice. The game resumed. But Emma’s eyes lingered on Kyle, and even though she probably looked silly with that goofy smile on her face, she didn’t care. She was just so happy for him. It didn’t matter that in the scope of things, the goal didn’t count, the game didn’t count. But his happiness at it seemed to elevate her own.

  And just like that, he locked eyes with her.

  At first, Emma thought that perhaps she was seeing things. She was sitting across the ice, and even though she had good eyesight, it was still hard to decipher if he was looking directly at her. It was her body, however, that revealed that yes, he was. Because her heart stopped and she felt a sickly sweet blush start to crawl across her face. And she could make out those crystal blue eyes so vividly. He was looking at her. She couldn’t help it, but she smiled even more than she already was. And then he smiled too.

  It was a moment.

  Booing caused her to look away and over to Thorpe who had just made another save. She felt her brow furrow, starting to get seriously annoyed with these fans. They all jump to their feet when Kyle scored a goal for their team, but when Thorpe made a save, they booed him.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Her eyes drifted over to Seraphina and Katella Hanson, seated in their usual places just above the home team’s box. Seraphina seemed to be annoyed just as much as Emma was about everyone’s reaction to Thorpe while Katella’s sole focus was that of her boyfriend. The fact that both sisters were here, especially Seraphina, after everything that happened last night, after the papers announced Alan Brown, their uncle, as the main suspect, showed just how strong these two really were.

  “I think I like Seraphina Hanson,” Emma told her father.

  “Oh, yeah?” His eyes were on the ice, only giving Emma half his attention. “What makes you say that?”

  “She’s young and she has to deal with so much, but looking at her right now, you would never know it. She carries herself with... class.” Did that make sense? Was that the right word? Emma decided that it sounded right. “Yeah, class. Both of them do. And I think that that makes them admirable.”

  “I have to agree,” her father said. “The fact that she’s here, now. It shows her dedication. That this team is her priority even if she doesn’t quite know how to handle it yet.”

  The period ended with more saves and more boos. Neither side scored, which meant the Gulls retained the lead as the team headed to the locker room.

  Emma leaned back in her seat. The timer on the scoreboard said her body had seventeen minutes to relax before it tensed again thanks to how sucked into the game she was becoming with each passing second.

  “I’m going to get some food,” Jeremy said, standing up. “Do you want anything?”

  “Yeah, can you get me a hot dog with ketchup and mustard and some water?” Emma asked, batting her eyelashes.

  “You and your appetite,” he muttered with a knowing smile on his face. “Well, I guess I should be grateful you have one, considering you’re a dancer and all.”

  “Oh ha, ha, Dad,” Emma called after him. “You’re a real comedian.”

  She smiled and leaned down to her bag, pulling a book out rather than watching the intermission activity. She was about halfway through it, and carried a second book just in case she finished the first and had nothing else to do. Despite her twenty-two years, her genre of preference was YA novels. For whatever reason, the female protagonists were more relatable and well-rounded in comparison to their older, literature genre counterparts, the exception, of course, being any main character from a Jane Austen novel. But Jane Austen always seemed to be an exception to many things.

  This particular story was dystopian which meant that the setting normally took place in the future but instead of society progressing, it seemed to have regressed into a controlled dictatorship or something along those lines. It was about a girl forced to marry a king she wanted overthrown in order to save her family from dying of poverty. In a complete twist, she found herself not only falling in love with him but also with her husband’s best friend and right-hand man who was secretly leading a rebellion against the king. It was the first in a trilogy and even though the love triangle plot was a predictable and tired plot point, Emma wished the second book would be released now so she didn’t have to wait to find out who Ella, the main character, would end up choosing.

  However, one thing she didn’t quite understand about a love triangle was the whole being in love with two guys at the same time. Maybe it was because she was an all-or-nothing type of girl, but the mere thought of being in love with two people at once seemed impossible, exhausting, and stressful. If it was true love, could it really be with two people? In all honesty, she just believed the girl was either infatuated with both choices but confused the feeling for love, or was in love with one and infatuated with the other.

  Not that Emma had to worry about that. She was in love with no one.

  Her father returned and Emma gleefully took the hot dog and water and wolfed it down before the second period began.

  When the third period buzzer went off, the fans cheered. The score ended up being five to two in favor of the Gulls. Kyle didn’t score again, but a defenseman did – two of them, actually, as did Matt Peters. Emma stood, but her father pulled her back down.

  “I can’t believe you forgot,” he said. “They bring out the top three players.”

  “Even during preseason?” Emma asked in confusion, sitting back down.

  “It’s kind of a Gulls’ tradition,” Jeremy said. “Even though it’s not the actual season, people at the game vote for the top three players and they come out and get recognition. Ken wanted to make sure that the fans appreciated the players and the players, in turn, appreciate the fans.”

  After a few more minutes, a narrow, crimson carpet rolled out from the corner entranceway of the rink, and the Gulls Girls lined up on other side, waving a small, navy blue towel, cheering.

  “Number three player of the game,” the announcer began, causing the room to get quiet, “as voted by you is Kyle Underwood!”

  The crowd cheered as Kyle emerged onto the carpet, waving to the crowd. He skated over to where Emma stood, pointed at her, and then gently tossed his hockey stick over the glass to her. She caught it with ease, her face no doubt matching the carpet. She didn’t even hear the announcement that Brandon Thorpe was voted number two, along with both cheers and boos, and Chad Westwicke was voted number one, due to the two goals he scored in the
second period. In fact, her eyes looked down at the smooth stick, taking in the plain design, the scrawl that was Kyle’s signature. Above it, written in black felt pen, was a question.

  Dinner tomorrow? 7 at the Canary?

  Emma’s breath hitched. He asked her out. On a stick, yes, but Kyle Underwood, hockey player, had asked her out.

  What should she say? First, she needed to figure out if she wanted to go out with him. Emma didn’t know much about Kyle, but she knew she wanted to get to know him more. And The Canary was her favorite sushi joint in Newport Beach. It wasn’t totally exclusive, but it was trendy and normally got busy Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Luckily, tomorrow was Tuesday, so maybe it wouldn’t be too crowded.

  She looked at Kyle, who was looking at her, and she nodded once before looking away. “Wow,” her father said as they started to leave. “Nice souvenir.” Emma recognized her father’s tone of voice. Like she knew her interest in hockey was all Kyle’s fault.

  But at that particular moment, she didn’t care.

  Chapter 5

  Okay. She could do this. She had been on plenty of dates before. This one was no different.

  Except that it was.

  Emma was going on a date with Kyle Underwood, right wing in the first line of the Newport Beach Seagulls hockey team. She was going on a date with a hockey player.

  Currently, she sat in her car, in the parking lot of the trendy sushi restaurant The Canary. The lot itself was relatively full, but it was nothing compared to the weekend. For whatever reason, Emma couldn’t exactly get up and head in the restaurant just yet. She needed to get a hold of her nerves. She needed to relax.

  Though the engine was off, the radio was on and Taylor Swift came through the speakers, singing about being fearless during a first date. It was upbeat and fun, but it didn’t get the tension in her muscles to relax like it normally would have.

  She reached up and pulled her vanity mirror down so she could inspect her makeup. As usual, it was light but she decided that maybe she should put more effort into it in order to show Kyle that tonight was actually special to her. Not that she assumed he noticed the makeup she wore on a day-to-day basis or that she believed tonight was more than just a casual date between two people who seem interested in each other.

  Shaking her head, she flipped the mirror closed and glanced down at her attire. It had taken an hour to choose an outfit she was comfortable with which was ridiculous because the only time Emma actually cared about what she wore was when she was on stage. Even so, she went through at least half a dozen options before finally settling on dark skinny jeans and a relatively loose white, three-quarter sleeved shirt with thick, navy blue nautical-style stripes running across it. On her feet were black high heels with red bows, and her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her bangs bobby-pinned and hair sprayed in the shape of a small, fashionable bump. Her multiple fly-aways actually added to the look, framing her face, softening it.

  She never used hairspray. It made her hair crunchy and it smelled horrible and yet there it was, holding her hair together.

  She stopped herself before she started to think about why she was making such an effort.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she told herself as the song changed. “This whole thing is ridiculous. You need to calm down. Breathe.” Emma pushed her shoulders back and took her own advice, breathing in through her nose and out with her mouth three times. “There. Now just remember, Kyle Underwood is a twenty-five-year old guy who happens to play hockey for a national team. There’s nothing special about him; he’s just another guy. You have no idea where this is going, if it goes anywhere. One step at a time, Winsor. This is one date. You’re not planning a wedding, are you?”

  Emma started laughing at her last question. The thought of her getting married to anyone, let alone Kyle Underwood, was amusing since she had absolutely no plans to ever tie the knot. Yeah right.

  “In retrospect, there’s no reason to get nervous about it because it’s probably going to go nowhere,” she continued. “Kyle Underwood is a pretty good looking hockey player. You think he wants to settle down now? And you for sure don’t want to settle down, Winsor. Stop with the butterflies and get your ass out there.”

  Giving herself a nod of encouragement, Emma turned off the car completely and grabbed her keys. She could do this. If she could choreograph an entire dance routine in ten days after Crystal had a mental breakdown and couldn’t pull it together, Emma could go through one date with a hockey player. She wouldn’t even break a sweat.

  Emma walked to the front of the restaurant where a pretty hostess was on the phone, taking a reservation. She gave Emma a warm smile and lifted a finger, indicating that she would be with Emma in just a minute. Glancing around, Emma realized the restaurant was busier than the parking lot actually revealed. A handful of couples where waiting to be seated while the bar was practically filled with those that wanted some appetizers and drinks before they got their tables.

  “Hi!” the hostess said brightly, grabbing Emma away from her thoughts. “How may I help you?”

  “I’m actually waiting for someone and I’m not sure if he’s here or not,” Emma said. “He’s tall, probably...” She raised her hand above her head to indicate her estimated height for Kyle. “He has, like, dusty blond hair and really piercing blue eyes. Like Hugh Laurie’s. And he has really broad shoulders.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly the hostess’s voice turned flat and the look she was giving Emma was almost accusatory. “You mean Kyle Underwood.” She dropped her eyes and gave Emma a once-over before locking eyes with Emma again. “You’re not his type.”

  “Excuse me?” Emma couldn’t believe the quip that had come out of the hostess’s mouth, but the hostess started talking before Emma even knew how to react.

  “He’s at his usual table.” Instead of actually showing Emma over like she probably should have, the hostess jutted her pointed chin to the secluded table in the back corner of the room, and before Emma could ask for clarification, the hostess motioned for the small group behind Emma.

  Well.

  Instead of feeling offended or put off, Emma felt herself smile. The entire situation she had just found herself was hilarious. She wasn’t Kyle’s usual type? He brought all his dates here? And suddenly, she relaxed. When she reached Kyle, she was smiling.

  “That’s unexpected,” he said, standing. “I wasn’t expecting Diana to be working tonight, but every once and a while...”

  Emma quickly took in the sight of him. He really was tall, and the fact that he was wearing nice clothing only emphasized that fact. The white, long sleeved collared shirt tucked in neatly to grey slacks. He looked good. Guys always looked better in suits, and Kyle was no exception. His hair was still styled so that the locks that might have framed his face were pushed up into careless spikes. If she was being honest with herself, Emma felt underdressed in comparison to him. But it didn’t matter now, did it?

  “Let me just get this straight,” Emma said, taking a seat. “You normally take all your dates here, and not only that but you have a usual table? I’m sure you eat the same thing and follow the same script, too.”

  “My dates don’t normally call me out,” Kyle said. His voice was teasing but it had an undertone of uncertainty, as though he wasn’t quite sure how Emma was going to react.

  “Oh, let’s clarify that,” Emma said. “This isn’t a date. If your ex-girlfriend works at the restaurant you usually take your quote-unquote dates, they’re routine.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  “Um, for the free meal at one of my favorite restaurants,” she pointed out, grabbing her menu. “By the way, don’t count on getting laid after this. Oh, and you should probably know that I have a pretty big appetite.”

  “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you are?” Kyle asked.

  Emma watched him look at her from over the menu. She found what she wanted and placed it back down, locking eyes with him once aga
in.

  “Yeah,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I get that a lot. I don’t know, I just think it’s a waste of time if you go through the motions and find out that you’re not compatible with someone. And if I hate anything, it’s definitely wasting my time, especially with something like relationships and romance and stuff.”

  Kyle’s lips turned up, and maybe Emma was imagining this, but it looked like his eyes only got bluer. She felt the flutter of the delicate butterfly’s wing in the pit of her stomach and she quickly grabbed the champagne glass filled with ice water in order to stop it.

  “What?” Emma asked, suddenly self-conscious. She had brushed her teeth for four minutes before leaving and she hadn’t eaten anything since a couple of hours ago and she had checked her face right before leaving her car. There was no way something was on her face or in her teeth.

  So why was he looking at her and smiling like that?

  “Whoa, no need to get defensive,” he said, his smile only deepening. “It’s just, I’ve never heard a girl be so explicit when it comes to romance. Normally, they’re looking for Mr. Right or walking on the beach or all that stuff the movies come up with that makes us guys look bad because there’s really no way we can live up Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.”

  “And you call me defensive?” she asked with a laugh. “Someone has issues.”

  “Look, I’ve dated around,” he said flatly, “I’ve had a couple of girlfriends before which means I’ve been forced to witness the atrocities that are known as romantic comedies. I’ve probably wasted three hundred hours of my life that I’ll never get back. The only good thing about them is watching them usually got me laid at the end of it.”

  “Wow,” Emma said, rolling her eyes.

  “I figure if you’re comfortable enough sharing things upfront with me, I can do the same with you.”

  “So you’re saying that the only reason you asked me out tonight was to get some?” An arched brow, a challenge.