Lucky Hit (Swift Hat-Trick Trilogy Book 1)

The bitter wind hits my skin, and goosebumps rise along my arms beneath my sweatshirt. The mid-October chill pushes me to walk faster down the sidewalk, the coffee shop where I’m meeting Adam getting closer and closer.

My neck has the mother of all cricks in it from spending all night sprawled over a massive man on a way too small couch.

Oakley and I passed out soon after he made me come so hard I saw stars. And despite the reason behind why I wound up at his house when I should have spent my night at home in my room studying, I woke up with a massive smile on my face. It took some pleading to get him to unwrap his tree trunk arms from around me, but eventually, he relented.

He didn’t seem overly thrilled with the idea of me meeting Adam at the coffee shop after my classes today, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Adam and I have been meeting for coffee every other afternoon for months. I’m not about to change my routine for anyone, even if Oakley did try to convince me by pressing me into his mattress this morning and making me come with his mouth.

I nearly gave in and was left with only twenty minutes to make it to my morning seminar by the time I managed to shake myself out of my horny haze.

At least Oakley was enough of a graceful loser to give me a hoodie to wear in the cold since, me being me, I left my apartment yesterday in nothing more than a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of thin leggings. The hoodie reaches my knees, and the sleeves hang over my hands, so I snuggle into it.

I reach the coffee shop right on time and look through the front window to see Adam sitting at our usual table with two white cups in front of him. The bell over the door jingles as I step through the door and breathe in the familiar smell of strong coffee.

I reach our table and pull my chair back. The screeching sound as it drags across the floor makes Adam’s head snaps up.

He slashes me a toothy smile. “One pumpkin spice latte for the lady.” He pushes the cup toward me and takes a sip of his foamy drink.

“Thank you. How was class?” I ask as I sit and settle in.

His smile twists into a scowl. “Long. Boring. You name it.”

Adam is majoring in kinesiology—which is a fancy way of saying that he’s learning how the human body moves—and minoring in business. His main focus is business, but I’m pretty sure he chose to major in kinesiology as a giant fuck you to his dad.

“That bad?” I lift my cup and blow away the steam before taking a careful sip.

“I was too hungover to pay attention to anything other than how painful Rackham’s voice ringing in my ears is. That woman’s voice is the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, I swear.” He shivers dramatically, and I laugh.

A sharp shhh travels to our table, and I twist in my chair to find Beth Winston shushing me from her nearby table. She pushes her round glasses up her nose and shoots me a glare. If looks could kill, that girl would have killed me a long time ago.

I met Beth at the beginning of last year when we were all fresh meat, in this exact coffee shop. I tripped over my untied shoelace and spilled my cup of fresh, piping hot vanilla latte all over the light pink sweater she was wearing.

Despite apologizing profusely and even offering to buy her a new sweater, she marked me as enemy number one. Her hatred of me has been very clear ever since.

To make matters worse, she’s had a crush on Adam since elementary school and hates me even more for being his best friend. According to Adam, they were somewhat close in high school. But she never got the hint, and eventually, he completely distanced himself from her.

I narrow my eyes at her and give her a finger-wiggling wave.

“Just ignore her, O,” Adam urges. “She’ll get over it eventually. It should be water under the bridge by now.”

I shrug and turn back to the table. When I look at Adam, he’s staring at Beth with a far too curious look in his eyes.

“She does seem to have gotten hotter over the summer break, though. In a sexy nerd kind of way, eh?” Adam adds, cocking his head to the side as he boldly stares.

I roll my eyes and glance back over at Beth. He’s not totally wrong. The waist-long, unruly brown curls that used to fall in her face have been cut and straightened, left to rest at the base of her neck. Her defined cheekbones and large chest seem. . . new—probably courtesy of her rich father. The only thing that seems to have stayed the same is her piercing blue eyes.

“Don’t even think about it. You’ve done enough damage to the girl. Plus, she’s pure evil.”

He turns back to me, looking completely unbothered. “I was just saying Beth didn’t use to be that hot. Anyway, how were your classes today?”

I slink further down in my chair. “It was brutal. This year might kill me. To think I still have two years of this torture makes my head hurt. If that isn’t bad enough, I have to start looking for somewhere to do my placement next year.”

“Have you decided what you wanna do for your placement?”

“Maybe.” I huff, adding, “I think so? Gah, one minute I do, and then the next, I don’t know.”

He offers a supportive smile. “You still have a while to figure it out. Stop stressing yourself out before you get an ulcer.”

“I’m leaning toward a community centre, but I also want to try working alongside a school counselor. I just want to make sure that I get the spot I want and not procrastinate.” I stop to give him a pointed stare, then continue. “Or by my luck, I’ll end up with the only one I don’t want.”

Adam places a hand on his heart as if I’ve hurt his feelings. “Uncalled for, O. I never procrastinate,” he says, and another loud laugh escapes.

Without preamble, Beth shushes me again.

Fed up, I turn and give her the finger. She scowls.

“Your mouth is going to get stuck in a permanent scowl if you don’t sometimes smile, Beth,” I sing. I can practically see clouds of dark grey smoke shooting from her ears.

“I’d rather have a permanent scowl on my face than have to look like you, Octavia,” she shoots back.

I bite my cheek when Adam snickers, trying desperately to hold back his laughter.

“Beth, cut it out,” he says.

As soon as he’s spoken, her anger is replaced by fake glee. She focuses on him. “Oh! Hi, Adam,” she gushes. “I didn’t see you there. You know there’s an empty seat beside me, right? You don’t have to sit beside her.”

“You do know I got here before you, right? I didn’t see you making any move to sit beside me. Lay off of Ava,” he snaps, then raises an eyebrow at me, his easygoing attitude quickly spoiled. “Are you ready to go? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” I stand up from the table and place my half-full coffee cup on a cleanup tray by the door on our way out.

Once we get into his sparkling new Lexus—another new apology gift from his parents—he sighs. “I miss you. I miss hanging out all the time like we did before school started.”

I double blink, surprised by the admission. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy and haven’t really made time for anyone—”

“But Oakley?”

I grimace at the hurt in his voice. “Not really. Stuff has just happened that’s brought us together.”

“Does he know about your mom?”

“He does.”

“Right. Of course he does.” He makes an angry noise in his throat. I shoot him a glare.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that he seems to know a lot more about you than I originally thought. I mean, come on. You barely even know him.”

“I really don’t like your attitude right now, Adam.”

His nostrils flare. “I’m just trying to protect you, O. We know nothing about the guy other than he’s a fantastic hockey player and moved here from Penticton. Or has he opened up to you when he won’t to any of his teammates? I don’t want you to get hurt again, O, and this reeks of heartbreak.”

Adam’s words hurt. As much as I don’t want to believe them, I can’t stop that small trickle of doubt from poisoning my thoughts. Suddenly, the last place I want to be is right here.

“I just want you to be careful, Ava,” he whispers.

“I know,” I say shortly. “Can you drive me home? I have a lot of homework to finish before your game tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. I love you, O.” He gives me one last look of concern before turning on the ignition.

“Love you too, A.”

“I’m home,” I say as soon as I get inside the apartment. The smell of food cooking makes my stomach grumble.

“Hey, girlie. How was your day?” Morgan calls from the kitchen. I join her by the stove just as she sticks a wooden mixing spoon into a pot full of something that looks kind of like macaroni but more . . . brown?

“Don’t wanna talk about it. What are you cooking? I’m starving.” I turn to the fridge and grab a bottle of water before untwisting the cap and taking a long drink.

“Hamburger Helper.”

“Good enough.” I’m hungry enough to eat just about anything, and despite the look of it, Morgan can make anything taste good. She’s like my mom in that way.

“Cool it with the excitement,” Morgan teases and continues to mix the noodles and beef around in the pot.

“Let me know when it’s ready. I’m just going to put my books away.”

She replies with a hum as I speed to my room. As soon as I drop my bookbag on my bed and start pulling out my books and laptop, my phone pings in my back pocket.

Grabbing it, I grin at the message.

Oakley: On my way to the rink…mind if I stop by? Have something for you.

Me: Sure. It better be something good *wink emoji*

I’ve just finished getting ready for the game when there’s a knock on the door.

“Ooh! I’ll get it,” Morgan sings.

“No, I got it,” I rush out, speeding through the apartment and cutting her off on her way to the door. She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“Expecting someone special?”

I point to her room. “Go. I don’t need you eavesdropping on my conversation.”

“Me? Eavesdrop?”

I glower at her. “Go, Mo.”

She tosses her hands up. “Fine. But hurry up. We do need to leave soon.”

“Got it.” I wave her off and open the door.

Oakley is waiting in the hallway in all of his towering, amazing-smelling glory. Only there’s something different about him. Instead of blue jeans and a T-shirt, he’s wearing a goddamn suit.

As soon as it fully registers what he’s wearing and how delicious he looks, my panties flood. Literally, they flood.

There are a pair of wrinkle-free black slacks fit snug to his thick thighs and a long-sleeve, white button-up stretched over his torso, the top two buttons undone. He’s gone without a tie, and for a brief second, I wish there was one I could grab and use to pull him toward me.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, either unaware of the eye-fucking I was just giving him or choosing not to tease me for it.

“Thank you.” I jerk my head toward the couch, hoping to God he can’t see how flustered I am. “You wanna sit down for a minute?”

When I don’t get a response, I turn to face him again.

“Are the only clothes you own Adam’s?” he grumbles, glaring at the jersey like he thinks he might be able to set it on fire with his eyes.

“I’m wearing your sweater underneath! This is the only jersey I have,” I explain, fighting back a smile.

“Not anymore.” He reaches into a bag I didn’t notice he had and pulls out a Saints home jersey. “Now you can wear mine.”

My cheeks reignite as I reach out and take it from his hand. “Thank you,” I nearly wheeze.

“Promise me you’ll wear it. I need my girl wearing my jersey in the stands, or I might lose the game.”

I arch a brow. “Your girl?”

His eyes darken as he takes a step toward me and grips my waist. “Yeah, my girl. I thought I made that clear last night.”

“Just clarifying,” I tease, leaning up on my toes for a kiss. He meets me halfway and captures my lips, stealing my breath.

What was meant to be a quick peck quickly turns into something hot and wanting before I plant my palms on his chest and separate us.

“I promise I’ll wear it,” I whisper, far too breathlessly.

His lips lift in a grin at the same time his phone chirps with a message. He curses before wrapping me in his arms and squeezing me tight against his chest. “I gotta go before Coach benches me. I’ll see you there. Your usual seats tonight?”

“Morgan said something about getting ice-level tickets.”

He nods, and I shiver when he steals another long, desperate kiss. “I’ll look for you.”

“I’ll be screaming your name in the stands,” I breathe.

His grin is pure sin. “Go crazy, baby. It’ll be good practice for later. See you soon.” And then he’s gone.