Slap Shot

By Stephanie Nichole

Rhys Owens is the player to beat when it comes to the ice. He has everything at the tip of his fingers until an injury takes him out for a good portion of the season. After surgery, he has to make a comeback to reignite his career. Now he is more determined than ever to prove himself while trying to escape the stigma of his past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kingston Publishing Company
• Release date: Aug 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781645333838

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Copyright

Slap Shot is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SLAP SHOT: A NOVEL

Copyright © 2022 by Stephanie Nichole

All rights reserved.

Editing by Pure Grammar Editorial Services

- www.puregrammar.com

Formatting & Cover Design by KP Designs

- www.kpdesignshop.com

Published by Kingston Publishing Company

- www.kingstonpublishing.com

The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Ninteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by the Author

About the Publisher

Dedication

To all those who find love in the most unexpected places with the most unexpected people. Opposites really do attract.

Playlist

What It Takes by Adelitas Way

You Never Know by Beartooth

Sugar by Maroon 5

Cold by Maroon 5

Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi

Stone Cold by Demi Lovato

The Champion by Carrie Underwood ft. Ludacris

Timeless by Rob Thomas

Leviathan by Volbeat

Let ‘Em Burn by Nothing More

Disguise by Motionless in White

Prologue

Adair

I’m sitting on the couch scrolling the world news on my phone when Nicholette comes down the hallway of the apartment we share. She looks over at me and her face falls. I thought you would come out with us tonight.

I never agreed to go out tonight, or any other night for that matter, but she always holds out hope that I will. But it’s just not my thing. I have too much else on my mind. She knows I’m not planning on leaving the house when she sees my hair piled on top of my head and I’m already in my pj’s for the night. Yes, I’m sure you did hope that I would go out but we both know I’m not going to.

Nicholette’s emerald green eyes narrow in on me as she falls down onto the couch next to me. Come on, Adair! One night is not going to hurt. Her voice is pleading.

I shake my head while scanning the headlines of the stories. I can’t. I need to write.

Adair, you write all the time. I think one night of you going out with us to have some fun isn’t going to hurt. Her hands wrap around one of my arms.

I have homework, I tell her simply.

Nicholette rolls her eyes. Oh please! You don’t have homework. You are so far ahead in every class, and may I add that you are at the top of your class! You can take one night off.

Nicholette doesn’t get it. She knows exactly what she should be doing. She has a natural talent when it comes to tennis so it’s like the world told her what she should be doing, all she had to do was follow the path. I, on the other hand, know what I want to do but trying to get there is no easy task. I want to be a journalist, but not just any journalist. I want to deliver the news of the world to the people. I want to show people they can make a difference. Even one person, one single action or voice can change everything. They just need to know what’s going on in the world. So yes, I spend a lot of time studying the political and world news because it’s what I want to write about. I work hard to stay at the top of my class in hopes that after graduation I can get a job in the field I want. That’s the plan.

Nicholette, I love you and you know that but you also know you’re wasting your breath. Go out, have fun and maybe kiss Blayke, I tell her with a laugh. Nicholette glares at me. She hates to be teased about Blayke. He’s basically her other best friend but I also know there could be more to this for them if they’d let it go there but she fights it.

You know if you weren’t my best friend I’d punch you, she tells me.

I laugh and Nicholette stands up. She’s dressed like she normally does when she’s planning to go out. A high waisted black leather mini skirt, a sparkly red crop top with a black glittered blazer over that with a pair of red heels. She wags her eyebrows at me and I tell her, Have fun!

I wish you’d come with us. Her eyes plead with me but I know that she knows it’s useless. She tosses her auburn ringlets over her shoulder.

I smile and watch as Nicholette leaves the apartment. Once the door shuts, I turn to my laptop. A few hours later, I get up to get something to eat. I decide to see if I can find something to watch on TV while I eat my bowl of mac n’ cheese. The minute I turn on the TV some hockey game comes on the screen. I roll my eyes and start to scan the rest of the stations. I hate sports. I hate the jocks and their ‘I’m better than everyone else attitudes’. Jocks made my high school years a living hell and I don’t care to ever share the same room with any jock ever again after college graduation.

One

Adair

4 years later

My alarm pulls me from my sleep. I groan as I roll over and slam my hand around on my nightstand until it finally hits the alarm clock. I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling fan above as it makes slow rotations. It’s Monday and I hate Mondays. Not because I’m one of those people who hate the beginning of the week. No, I hate it because I hate my job. I used to love Mondays because it meant I got to go back to school. I guess I’m a little bit of a nerd, but I’ve always been okay with that. I always liked school for the fact I liked learning. It definitely wasn’t about socializing for me. I didn’t have any friends until I met Nicholette in college and her friends became my friends.

Now, I hate Mondays because it means I have to go to work, and I hate my job. This is not how I saw my life turning out when I graduated at the top of my class in college.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door. Rise and shine, Adair! I hear Nicholette call from the other side of the closed door.

I pull the pillow over my face and give myself one more quick pep talk. I remind myself that this job isn’t forever. I’ll eventually get to where I want to be. It’s just going to take more time than I thought. I sit up and pull myself out of my bed and into the shower.

Once I’m showered, I slip on a pale yellow pencil skirt, white blouse with a baby blue cardigan. I straighten my shoulder length bob and put on my earrings. I pack my bag with my laptop just in case the office computers go down… again. As I reach the kitchen of the condo I share with Nicholette, I smell the eggs and bacon. As I round the corner, I’m not surprised to see my best friend dressed in her signature pleated tennis skirt, form fitting tank top and matching cardigan, and her favorite pair of tennis shoes. I shake my head because we couldn’t be more opposite yet she’s the best friend I could have ever asked for. Where I’m a bit shy and reserved, she’s a social butterfly and outgoing. She doesn’t mind sports, she loves tennis and skateboarding. I guess that makes sense in the grand scheme of things considering she’s a tennis coach and is still good enough to be a professional if she wanted to be. Our friend Blayke is the reason she enjoys skateboarding. Nicholette and I do share similar interests though as far as music, movies and whatnot. We just don’t share a love for sports, but I’d root her on any day. I never missed a match of hers during college and still try to attend most tennis tournaments she’s coaching these days.

Nicholette is actually the reason I have my job. After college I was applying everywhere and getting nowhere. She knew a guy who knew a guy that worked for Athletics Daily Magazine. It’s a local magazine that has a newspaper issue every two weeks but our website is updated almost daily. I’m an assistant editor and fact checker for the articles. Don’t get me wrong, I’m beyond thankful for the job. The pay is actually pretty good but being surrounded by sports all day, every day, isn’t my idea of a dream come true. Plus, I really miss writing my own stuff.

Morning sunshine, Nicholette says as she slides me a to-go glass of chocolate milk with a laugh.

What? I ask her. My eyebrows raised in question.

I’m just wondering if anyone would believe we are adults with our choices of drinks. I mean we both drink chocolate milk instead of coffee for breakfast. She tosses her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as she goes back to finishing up the breakfast.

I shrug. Well, just because the world says I have to be considered an adult based on my age it doesn’t mean I’m going to give up this greatness, I tell her holding up my to-go cup.

Touché. You want something to eat? Nicholette offers.

I shake my head, grabbing a banana. Nope, no time. We have a meeting this morning. I’ll meet you in the car.

Adair! I turn around and give her a questioning look. Your shoes, she tells me, pointing the spatula in her hand towards my feet. I look down and, sure enough, I’m barefoot. Crap! How does someone forget to put shoes on? I smile and rush back to my room and slip on my heels. Now, I remember how I forget. It's a selective memory type thing because I hate heels but at the same time I want to look professional. Thanks! I tell Nicholette as I head out the door and out to my silver Dodge Avenger. I start up my car and the Octane station comes blaring over the speakers. I instantly fumble to turn down the volume while mumbling to the radio and myself, ‘Chill dude, I’m not the same person I was last night.’ Leaving the music at a blaring volume in my car when I get out of it, is definitely my worst habit.

Nicholette opens the passenger side door. Talking to yourself again?

Why do I always leave the volume turned up when I get out of the car? I ask her, my voice whining as my ears still ring from the blast of music they just suffered.

Nicholette laughs and shrugs. My car would be the same right now. It’s just what we do. Once we’re all set, I back out of our driveway and head for River Ridge. River Ridge, Minnesota, is a larger city, the population is about 200,000 and it has a ton to offer people. However, Nicholette and I both grew up in River Bend which is a suburb to River Ridge. River Bend is a small town of about 16,000 which may have declined some since the plants closed down a few years ago. We both enjoy having access to the larger city but neither of us have a desire to live in it, so we commute daily for work. Since we commute the twenty miles into River Ridge we alternate on taking cars and driving duties when we can.

Nicholette has a degree in sports medicine and works for the local hockey team River Ridge Rebels, when she’s not busy coaching tennis. She loves what she does and she is great at it but it also means that sometimes her schedule is crazy. We dance around and sing along to the music as we make our way to River Ridge. Soon enough the towering buildings start to fill the skyline in front of us.

We hit a little bit of traffic as we enter into River Ridge, but luckily it’s nothing too major. I navigate through the city that has become a second home to us. Once we hit downtown, I head for the local ice rink that is home to the River Ridge Rebels. The tennis courts that Nicholette uses to normally coach after finishing her day with the Rebels is located behind the rink. Today she’s going to the tennis courts first but it’s easier to drop her off in the rink parking lot. Nicholette hops out of the car. Have a great day at work, Adair!

I appreciate her trying to add some pep to my day, but I’m just not feeling it for myself right now. It’s like this every Monday for me. Throughout the morning I go around feeling sorry for myself but by mid-morning I’m over it. I pull out of the parking lot and head for the Athletics Daily offices.

About half a mile down the street from the home of the Rebels there is a modern, all glass building that is the home of Athletics Daily. Athletics Daily is a local sports magazine. River Ridge is big into sports. The town has a team for almost every major sport in the league. Athletics Daily serves the city as well as the online world. Our website gets an outrageous number of hits daily and we still hold one of the highest subscription lists in the magazine world. I guess when it comes to sports, Athletics Daily is on top of the game.

I pull around back and park in my spot before gathering my purse and laptop bag and heading inside. When I reach the door I scan my badge and head down the hall to the elevator bay. I hit the button and wait. Mike enters the building and inwardly I groan.

Mike is a good-looking guy with his blonde hair, brown eyes, strong jaw, and lean build but that’s where it ends. He’s a typical jock. If it doesn’t have to do with sports then he’s not interested. It’s impossible to have a conversation with him. It’s actually torture. I mean the guy didn’t even know that Harry Potter was a book before it was a movie. I mean you don’t even have to be into books to know that. Mike smiles as he approaches and I’m sure it works on most girls, but not me. Good morning, Adair.

Good morning, Mike.

Mike steps up to the elevator beside me. He’s so close and we are the only two in the hallway, so his closeness is unnecessary. How was your weekend?

I give him a tight smile. It was good. How was yours?

It was a freaking blast. I got to go to the gym with Jensen Samuels, you know the running back for River Ridge Raiders, and it was awesome, Mike explains. The elevator dings as the doors open and I rush inside as Mike continues to tell me how much he benched and how many squats he did. I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking him to shut up.

I let out a relieved sigh as the elevator doors open to our floor and I head straight for my desk. I have a great view of River Ridge. My desk sits along the glass walls of the building. From there I can see the city beyond, the rolling mountains in the distance, the river and waterfall that are on the outskirts of town, and the park where the kids play. It really is beautiful for a larger city. I take a seat long enough to start up my desktop computer and grab my laptop before heading into the meeting room to go over this week's game plan.

Two

Adair

I take a seat at the table and watch as everyone else files into the room. The large, dark table that seats up to forty fills quickly. The receptionist, Ava, comes in and delivers coffee or water to each of us before heading back out to take care of the phone. Mr. Malliet, the editor in chief, enters the room, demanding our attention. Well, I hope everyone had a good weekend because we have one hell of a month ahead of us. There are so many stories that need to be written that I’m pulling in some of our editors to help cover them. I’ll be outsourcing the editing to a local publishing company for the time being. Athletics Daily has reached an even higher demand and we will meet these demands.

My heart stops because I’m an editor and as much as I miss writing I don’t want to write about sports. Surely, he doesn’t need every editor on staff to write. I can pick up extra articles and edit those so he won’t have to outsource as many. It’ll save us money. I’m so lost in my thoughts of how I’m going to get out of writing a sports article that I don’t even hear who gets assigned what. It isn’t until I hear Mr. Malliet call my name that I’m brought back to the room. Adair, you are the editor with the highest qualifications, so I have a huge story for you. One that will take six weeks to complete. I’ll expect a small weekly article for the website with a full article ready for print in the biweekly magazines. I just nod my head because I have no idea what else to do. I’m speechless. As we all know, local hockey legend, Rhys Owens, was injured a few weeks ago in the first preseason game. Rhys recently went for surgery to fix a torn rotator cuff and he’s planning on being back on the ice within six weeks. You will follow him around and document his recovery as well as his charity time. As most of us know Rhys dedicates a lot of his down time to his charity work. I think it’s important for the rest of the world to see this side of him, Mr. Malliet explains.

Yes sir, I say weakly as my stomach churns with nerves. I have to follow Rhys Owens around for six weeks like some lost little puppy. How the hell am I going to manage this?

****

I take a seat at my desk and drop my head back into my chair. How am I supposed to write about sports? I don’t know the first thing about hockey or Rhys Owens. The