Long Shot: Lincoln U- Ice Hockey

CONTENTS Long Shot Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Snap Shot Books by MJ Fields Audio Books About the Author Copyright © 2023 by MJ Fields All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. LONG SHOT Ellie Before my junior year at Lincoln University, I promised myself three things. Just three. 1. Actually dig into the whole sorority girl bit. 2. Stay away from athletes. 3. Seriously, stay away from athletes. When Professor Taylor posted our chem midterm partners and I got stuck with the captain of Lincoln’s ice hockey team, I was sure I’d be able to abide by rules 2 and 3. After all, I was immune to Leo’s whole “hottest guy on campus” thing. I grew up with him—my brother’s best friend. That I’ve been obsessed with since I was eight. Fuck me. Leo Senior year. Captain of the hockey team, already engaged to the NHL with the perfect union months away, my whole life mapped out ahead of me. All my dreams have come true. Except for Eleanor Rhodes. That one’s reoccurring, starring her in nothing but my number and that perfect little blush that shows up every time she looks at me. No biggie. I’ve worked that one out. In the shower. Numerous times. Never had a reason to get any closer than her Instagram until Professor Taylor assigned us as chem partners. The one girl on campus who shouldn’t be on my radar, yet she somehow seems to be the only one. PLAYLIST Dreams - Fleetwood Mac Falling - Harry Styles All Too Well - Taylor Swift I Think He Knows - Taylor Swift What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction Dress - Taylor Swift All Night Longer - Sammy Adams Holed Me - Fleetwood Mac I Know It Won’t Work - Gracie Abrams CHAPTER 1 “Fuck,” I growl as I tap the ice off my skate, reluctantly making my way to the locker room, knowing darn well we’re going to get our asses reamed for the sloppy game we barely made it through. In the locker room, I toss my gloves on the bench, remove my helmet, and brace for it. “Stone, you wanna tell me what the hell got into you tonight?” Coach Kostas asks a question I know he doesn’t want the answer to. So, I don’t. “First period, you spent more time in the goddamned penalty box than you did on the ice! Do you know what that does to your team?” And … another question he doesn’t want an answer to. “Leaves them a man down—that’s what it does!” In typical Kostas form, he tosses his ball cap on the ground. I catch the towel tossed to me by Stewie, our equipment manager, say, “Sorry, Coach,” and run it over my sweat-drenched hair. “You just pulled it out of your ass third quarter!” By making two goals and winning the game, I think, reluctantly keeping it to myself. “Giulietti, Smith, you two certainly didn’t play like you’re heading to the N—H—fucking—L tonight either!” “Sorry, Coach,” they say in unison. He scans the room for a beet-red face. “Costello!” When Costello doesn’t answer, he points to me. “Where’s the other captain of this shitshow?” Costello yells into the locker room, “Everyone decent? We have very special visitors.” “Fuck’s sake,” Coach grumbles under his breath then clears his throat. “Come on in.” A fake-ass smile spreads across his face but doesn’t touch his eyes as Dean Costello walks in with his grandparents. His grandfather, Dean Costello II, gives a nod and a heartfelt smile. “Wonderful game, men, simply wonderful.” Beth Costello, or Bitty as she insists on being called, claps her gloved hands. “Bravo!” “They played a heck of a game,” Coach says, taking on a much more pleasant tone for them. Dean winks at me, knowing damn well what he would’ve walked into had he not brought his grandparents with him. When I was being recruited, Lincoln U was cost cutting, stepping away from the off-campus arena they shared with several other teams. We were supposed to play all games at the much smaller campus rink. Dean’s grandparents donated the funds for the expansion and update to the rink when he came here to play. The entire team changes quicker than ever as the senior Costellos chat up Coach. Lots of talk about how much nicer playing at Lincoln must be than to have to come to places like this that are in desperate need of upgrades. I mean, ours is better, but we’re college hockey players in the visitors’ locker room, not old monied “chaps” visiting the country club. Dean is, but to the rest of us, it’s nothing to cry about. Whispering, Dean tells Theo Rivera, our sophomore center, “Get everyone to the bus. Stone and I will cover.” Coach’s face has turned a slightly less violent shade of red by the time the Costellos leave. He runs his hand through his hair as he looks around the room for his hat. I step over and grab it off the floor, shaking it off before handing it to him. He accepts