Ltfredhenrry: Josie, just say something.
Mazyy: How’d you figure out this was me?
Ltfredhenrry: I bribed some tech at Blizzard to give me your email address.
Mazyy: We don’t give out player information under any circumstances.
Ltfredhenrry: Don’t forget I have very deep pockets.
Mazyy: I need time to think.
I logged out of my account and grabbed my cellphone.
Josie answered on the first ring. “Ari, what’s up?”
“Does training camp start on Monday?” I quickly spit out.
“Yeah, why?”
“I need you and Roger to do me the biggest favor.”
Chapter 11
Breaking Rules & Bucking Tradition
Ari
With the help of Roger and Josie, I was standing just outside the arena where the North Carolina Hogs were practicing.
“You got this.” Josie hooked her arm with mine, practically dragging me into the bleachers.
Wearing Logan’s jersey, I took a few deep breaths as I spotted him on the field.
“I don’t know if I can do it.” I turned to Josie before she shoved me farther forward.
“You can and you will. Go get your man.” Josie whistled loudly and Roger sprinted over to his teammate, pointing up at me.
After running off the field, Logan stopped in his tracks a few feet away from me, ripping off his helmet. “Ari, what are you doing here?”
“With a hell of a lot of help from Josie and Roger, here I am. A creepy grand gesture seemed to be fitting.”
Logan took a step closer. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. When you never came back online the other night, I thought that was your answer.”
“I did too, but I can’t stop thinking about you. The last few months, I have tried to move on, but I just can’t.”
“I can’t either.” His admission helped relax my racing mind.
“I miss the way you look at me as soon as I walk into a room, the seconds before you grab me and kiss me—it’s my favorite look in the entire world and I can’t get it out of my head. The way your eyes light up, the hint of a smile, the underlying hunger right before you take me into your arms and trail your hands down my sides…I have never missed anything more than I have missed that in my entire life. I don’t know what love is. I’ve never been in love before, but I think this is the closest I have ever gotten.”
“You have no idea what that means to me.” He sighed, taking another step forward.
“I am a geek and live such a boring life, but you make it exciting and terrifying and fun, and also, I really want to soak in that bathtub again.”
“Maybe…you’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
“Hell, I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?” I continued to quote from his favorite book.
“Yes,” he muttered, brushing my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I am dripping with sweat and have a serious case of swamp ass going on from running drills.”
“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass.” I leapt into his arms as he twirled me around, his teammates cheering and whistling as we kissed.
Setting me down, Logan knelt in front of me. “I don’t have a ring right now, but how about one more grand gesture to round this out?”
I started blubbering as Logan gripped my hand.
“Do me the honor of being my wife. No more stupid rules. No more ridiculous games. Just be mine.”
Words failed me as I nodded feverishly.
“Is that a yes?” I heard Roger yell from the field.
Leaping to his feet, Logan called back. “I think I shocked the words right out of her mouth for the first time in her life.”
Finally I spit out, “It’s a yes.”
Josie squealed behind us as the team hooted and hollered, throwing their helmets in the air.
“Coach?” Logan bellowed over his shoulder with me wrapped in his arms.
With a dramatic wave of his clipboard, the coach blew his whistle. “Congratulations, Turner. Thanks for fucking up this practice for all of us. Hit the showers, boys. Logan, go get that girl a damn ring.”
“Should I go change?” Logan asked.
“Shower first. I can wait. We can’t go into a jeweler’s establishment with your swamp ass, now can we?”
“When you’re right, you’re right, sweetheart.”
Logan
Rushing into the locker room, I showered and changed in record time. Sprinting back to Ari, I found her sobbing in her sister’s arms.
“Not again,” I exclaimed. “I was gone for ten minutes, max.”
Smiling up at me, Ari blubbered, “I don’t want a big wedding. I don’t want it to be a media spectacle.”
Relief washed over me as I took my new fiancée into my arms. “I’ll marry you at the courthouse right now if that is what you want.” I pulled her chin up to force her to look at me. “I love you, Ari. I will tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. We can wait years, we can wait seconds, but just know that even if you try to run, I am going to marry you.”
“Don’t we have wait a few days after applying for a marriage license?” she stammered as I wiped the tears off of her cheeks.
“Not in North Carolina, a law that is really going to work in my favor with how big of a flight risk you have proven to be,” I explained.
“I don’t want to know why that fact is stored in your brain,” Ari muttered.
“I honestly have no idea why I know that, but your sister is here and I am sure Roger would be our other witness.”
“I’ll go get him,” Josie yelled before sprinting off for the locker room.
“No girls allowed,” I called after her.
Whipping around, she held up her left hand. “This ring gives me the authority to break that rule for something as big as this.”
“Are we getting married today?” Ari asked sheepishly.
“If you’ll have me.”
“Are you sure?”
I kissed her forehead. “Why, darling, I don’t live at all when I’m not with you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She giggled while sniffling a little.
“It’s one hell of a big yes, Ari. I am marrying you today.”
The End.
Did you enjoy what you just read?
RATE IT: If the answer is yes, you did enjoy Offsides, please consider putting up a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Writing a review for an author is like tipping a server at a restaurant, even the bad ones are better than nothing.
SHARE IT: Please help spread the word about Offsides. Tell your friends and family about it or share it with them. Sharing is caring, after all.
STAY CONNECTED: Follow Kristen Hope Mazzola on http://www.facebook.com/khmazz.author, twitter.com/khmazz or https://bookandmainbites.com/khmazz to stay up to date about new releases, giveaways, and so much more! Join Kristen’s email mailing list for her monthly newsletter: kristenhopemazzola.com/mailing-list.html and there is always Kristen’s Street Team to join on Facebook: Kristen Hope Mazzola’s Rockstars!
Acknowledgments
Every time I sit down to write this section, I always get so nervous that I am going to leave someone out or forget to say something important… so please bear with me while I ramble for a bit…
First, I have to say thank you to my father for supporting my love of sports from such a young age. My dad would take me to as any sporting events as he could from the Miami Dolphins, the Florida Marlins (now the Miami Marlins, side note: I hate that they changed the name), the Miami Heat, and the Florida Panthers - we went to them all and frequently. Those are memories that I will forever cherish.
Teresa: Thank you for being my drinking buddy and spending Sundays with me watching football all day at CharBar! Even when our teams lose, it’s always the best!!
My better half: Your unwavering support, even when you’re miles away is something that is
unparalleled. I am floored by how often you tell me you’re proud of me. It is the driving force to help me believe in myself and continues to push me to be better with each story I write. Thank you isn’t a big enough sentiment. You’re my favorite.
Lauren: Thank you for helping me through every storyline. Our talks about my characters and the ideas you help me come up with are incredible. You make me a better author. #Ride&Die
Heather: Without your guidance and constant moral support, I would not be able to be the author I am today. I value our business and personal relationship so much. I love you to death!!
J-Flo: Your random messages and our quick chats mean the world to me! I am thankful to have you as a friend and colleague!
Kristen Luciani: Your friendship is so wonderful and I love how close we have gotten over the years. I can’t wait until we’re reunited in person again!
C. Marie: GIRL! You rocked the edits of this book in record time! I don’t know what I would do without you. (Find her on Facebook here: Editing by C. Marie)
Rockstars: Y’all are incredible! I absolutely love the little community we have made on Facebook. Thank you for loving my words and supporting my career like no other!
Also by Kristen Hope Mazzola
The Crashing Series:
Crashing: The Wedding
Crashing Back Down
Falling Back Together
Crash & Burn
The Unacceptables MC Standalone Series:
Unacceptable
Unspeakable
Unbreakable
Untouchable
Unbearable
Undeniable
Uncut
Unscarred
Unstable
Tis The Season
The Hysterics Standalone Series:
The Hysterics
Colt & Serena
Becoming Hysteric
Steele
Shots On Goal Standalone Series:
Hat Trick
Cross Checked
Cherry Picked
Low Blow
Playoff Beard
Off Duty
For You, I Will
First Last Kiss
Standalones:
Stupid Hearts
Rough & Tumble
Donut Be Easy
Offsides
Boxsets:
The Crashing Series
Lust & Love
The Shots on Goal Series Box Set
The Unacceptables Series Box Set One
The Unacceptables Series Box Set Two
The Hysterics: A Rock Star Standalone Box Set
First Timers: The Box Set
The Huntress Series (co-written with Dawn Robertson):
The Huntress (Book 1)
The Hopeless (Book 2)
The Nameless (Book 3)
Charity Compilations:
30 Dirty Martinis
Word Search For Warriors: Authors For A Cause (Volume 1)
The 69 Series:
(multi-author collaborations for charity)
Hook & Ladder 69
Bleed Blue 69
About the Author
Bestselling author, Kristen Hope Mazzola, is a Florida native that has found herself loving a North Carolina life. She writes contemporary romance ranging from steamy romantic comedy, sexy erotica, angsty new adult, all the way to sports romance – with dirty bikers, hot military men, and swoon-worthy rockstars in between. A portion of her royalties is donated to the Marcie Mazzola Foundation.
Stay Connected
www.KristenHopeMazzola.com
[email protected]
Hat Trick
A Shots On Goal Standalone - Sports Romance
Sneak Peek
By Kristen Hope Mazzola
Chapter 1
Brayden
“So, doc…” My eyes traveled down to the blue-gray speckled white floor of my sister’s hospital room as I gripped her hand tighter. “How bad is it, really?” I knew from how mangled the car was that I was lucky she was breathing—even if it was with the help of a machine—but I needed to find a shred of hope that she’d see morning.
Watching Myla’s tiny frame clinging to life in that hospital bed damn near broke me. Most of the time, I prided myself on being the tough one in the family, but right then and there I was crumbling into a pile of useless emotions, praying for this to all be one sick, twisted nightmare that I needed to wake from.
The young doctor with a thick red beard put his hand on my shoulder, frowning. “We’re going to do everything we can to save her, Mr. Cox. Go home and get some sleep. We will know more in the morning.”
I nodded, willing my eyes to travel up my sister’s bedside. The site of a breathing tube coming out of her mouth and the beeping of the machine that was acting as her lungs made my stomach lurch. The cuts and scratches that dappled her fair skin didn’t do the severity of the crash justice. Both of her eyes were black and blue, her cheeks were swollen, and too many bones in her body were shattered. It was purely a miracle that the first responders were able to get her out of the car, let alone stabilize her enough to get her to the hospital and into surgery in time, but they managed it somehow.
I squeezed her hand one last time, bending down and whispering into her ear, “Myla, if you can hear me, please fight. Please be strong. You’re all I got left. I love you, sis.” I cursed the tear that rolled down my cheek onto hers as I kissed my little sister’s temple.
Squeaking sneakers sounded behind me. Turning slowly, I locked eyes with a short nurse in purple scrubs sheepishly walking into the room. Her petite figure reminded me of Myla’s, and she had a tiny bounce in her step that made her short, stick-straight hair sway side to side with every step. “Sorry, I just need to check on her.” She bit her bottom lip, looking down at Myla’s chart near the foot of her bed.
Taking a few steps back to let the nurse do her job, I cleared my throat. “Is it okay if I stay the night here with her?”
The nurse frowned with her entire tiny frame while shaking her head. “I’m afraid that’s not allowed in critical care, sir. Visiting hours start at seven and end at nine.”
I glanced down at my watch to see that I was already overstaying my welcome by an hour. Failing at forming a smile, I shoved my hands into my pockets. “All right. I’ll be on my way.”
Her kind eyes searched mine as more damned tears welled up and a lump the size of Long Island formed in my throat. “I’m Karla. I’m working all night.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card and a pen. “Write your cell number here. I’ll call you personally if anything happens.”
With shaking hands, I did as she asked with more gratitude than I had thought possible. “I don’t really know how to thank you for this.” My voice was weak and fading.
As I handed her back the business card, I realized how wobbly my hands were. The nerves and worry were starting to get the better of me.
“Just try to get some rest. Here.” She handed me another business card. “Just in case you get worried during the night, my cell number is on there.”
“I appreciate it.”
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, I was making my way to the parking garage on autopilot. Everything was turning into a blur. Unlocking my car, putting my seatbelt on, putting the car in drive—it all felt like I was watching a movie, not actually experiencing it myself. Pulling into the garage at my parents’ house shocked my senses awake; I didn’t even remember pulling onto Elm Street or rounding the corner onto Addison.
Throwing my keys onto my dresser, I fell back onto my king-sized bed. I didn’t know how I was still moving, breathing, thinking—I just knew I had to keep it up. Myla had to be all right and I had to be strong for her. In just one phone call, my entire life had flipped over on top of me, crushing every bit of my soul. All at once, it hit me—my anger, my rage, my temper. Within minutes, my meticulously manicured room rumbled into a mirror of the torment of my situation.
After I re
leased all the tension, a wave of realization flooded me. As I stood in the middle of my oversized room with the glass from my mirror scattered around the floor, blood coming from my busted knuckles, and a few new holes that needed to be patched peppering my walls, I couldn’t escape the reality of the day’s occurrences any longer.
My mother was dead and my sister was in a medically induced coma because of her extensive injuries. The guilt was overwhelming. There was nothing I could have done to prevent the truck from running that stoplight or make my mother buckle her seatbelt, but I was the man of the house and the responsibility of protecting my family was mine to bear.
The hours ticked by until exhaustion took over. I was startled awake by my alarm clock chiming loudly in my ear, and I realized I was still wearing my sweats and long-sleeved shirt from the practice I had been ripped away from when the hospital called.
Checking my phone, I saw a few texts from teammates checking up on me, a few voicemails from my assistant coach, and a text from an unsaved number.
Swiping open my phone, I read words that brought tears of relief to my eyes:
Just letting you know, your sister did great overnight. I gave your number to the day nurse and will check in later to see how you two are doing. Take care – Karla.
I quickly rattled off a reply:
Thank you for letting me know. I am heading that way now. Hope you get some rest after a long night shift.
Offsides: A Standalone Sports Romantic Comedy Page 7
