Page 14 of Hot Shot

My sister rolls her eyes and then takes an enormous bite of her snack.

I put my hand on my belly. “It’s not my fault that the smell and thought of processed meats makes me want to vomit.”

She swallows hard. “I thought morning sickness was mostly a first trimester thing.”

I shrug. “I’m not getting sick as often, but still the smell of that is just grossing me out.”

She throws it in an empty popcorn bucket and sets it under our seats. “Sorry. I won’t have any more. I don’t want to upset baby. I’m going to be his or her favorite aunt.”

“You’ll be the only aunt.”

“Not technically. Didn’t you say that the father has two sisters?”

“Yes, but how will the baby ever meet them?”

“I don’t know. But I haven’t given up hope for you yet.”

“What about you? When are you going to go to Saddle Creek and knock some sense into JD? You have to know he feels the same way about you.”

“I do not know that. Listen, the man had three years here in Austin to make a move and he didn’t.”

“But he did ask you to move with him.”

“Not move with HIM. Move with the company. And he asked everyone. It wasn’t just me. I’m just another employee to JD Granger and he can kiss my ass.”

“He’d probably like that,” I mutter.

“You think Brendan realizes how little we actually pay attention to his games?” Chelsea asks, ignoring my comment.

“In our defense, this isn’t even a real game, just a practice. We’ll be more attentive during the actual season.”

“True. Also, since it’s as hot as Satan’s asshole outside, it’s nice to be in here with the ice.”

I laugh. “You’re a nut.”

She shoulder bumps me.

I glance at the ice in time to see Brendan block a shot. Our brother is the goalie for the Texas Tornadoes, the newest team in professional hockey.

Shelby and I cheer. The buzzer goes off and the game is over. The arena is still mostly full though despite the fact this is just one of the practice games that’s open to the public. My sister grabs my hand though and pulls me away from our seats.

“I want to get to the tunnel before they’re attacked for autographs and pictures,” she says.

“Brendan said we didn’t have to meet him after this game.”

“I know. But he’ll be excited that we’re wearing his jersey.”

I laugh. “Yes, because that’s what every man wants, his sisters wearing his jersey.”

“Well, whatever. It’s his fault he’s single.”

Even leaving the stands when we did, we’re still not the first family members in the tunnel. I wave to the wives and girlfriends clumped together on the far wall of the tunnel.

Some of them give me a fake smile in return while a couple of others seem genuine enough.

Suddenly the noise increases as the players begin to enter the area. I’m searching for my brother, who should be easy to find since he’s the biggest guy out of all of them. Partly because a goalie’s pads are massive, but also because he’s just a damn beast.

The guys are loud, giving each other shit as they trail in, helmets and sticks in hand.