Page 27 of Hat Trick

“You didn’t,” I say, still struggling not tolaugh.

She flashes me a bright grin, so genuinely pleased with herself that she looks like the kid who hasn’t just stolen the candy, but the kid who’s stolen everyone else’s candy too. “I did,” she confirms with a short nod. I can’t make out her eyes, thanks to the Blades baseball hat that she’s got on, but I sure as hell don’t miss her dimples winking at me, nor the way she bounces from one foot to the other. “I wasn’t sure if it was over thetop.”

“Oh, it is,” I drawl, dragging my gaze down to where the wordsWill u puck me 4 lyfe?are scrawled in pink, glittery script. Cartoon-like rabbits fill in the white space, and they’re all gripping pucks in their tiny little paws. The question mark is a misshapen hockey stick on drugs. And, hell, at least one of the rabbits is wearing a pink tutu, overlaid with moreglitter.

It’sawful.

There really isn’t any other word forit.

My thumb hooks under my duffel’s strap, and I lift it over my head and down by my side. “Your spelling needs somework.”

Gwen glances down at her masterpiece. “That was the plan. I was hoping to distract you from my pitifulbunnies.”

Stepping close to her, I trace one of the tutus, enjoying the way Gwen’s gaze follows the path of my fingers. In a husky voice, I say, “Were you trying to tell mesomething?”

“Likewhat?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe that you’re the only puck bunny I’ll everwant?”

The brim of her hat is shoved up with one finger, and then she’s meeting my gaze head-on. “That’s a given,” she says with a small smile. “I’m turning a newleaf.”

“Yeah?” I can’t stop myself. I take another step closer to her. She retreats on instinct—I’m nearly double her size—and her back presses against the bed of my truck. “What sort of leaf are we talkinghere?”

With the poster stuck in between us, I can’t feel her body. The poster crinkles as I lean into her, one hand going to the truck’s tailgate, the other still holding onto my duffel bag at my side. Guileless blue eyes blink up at me, and the desire I see there nearly brings me to myknees.

“The leaf,” I grunt, trying to remember where the hell this conversation started, as opposed to all the places I’d love for it togo.

Namely, some kind of flatsurface.

I’m notpicky.

Gwen swallows audibly. The shyness she’s radiating is not nearly the kickass publicist I’ve seen put my teammates in place after they’ve acted out of turn.ThisGwen is for me, I know it—onlyme.

“The poster is a joke,” she says, her fingers tightening on the flimsy poster-board. “I’m not looking to be a puck bunny, yours or anyone else’s. I want to . . .” The poster inches upward, as though she’s nervous to admit thetruth.

“Tell me, Gwen.” I swipe off her hat, and it clatters to the cement with hardly a sound. Neither of us move to grab it. I’m not interested in the hat. I need to hear what she has to say. “What isit?”

She shakes her head, and her red strands catch on herlip.

Fuckit.

My fingers brush that hair back, tucking it behind her ear before returning to her full mouth. “I’ve been dying to kiss you for years now,” I growl, dropping my lips to the shell of her ear. “Ever since you sat down in front of me, wearing that short denim skirt. You’ve been temptation for me eversince.”

Another swallow, but this time she tips back her head, exposing the column of her throat as though daring me to take a bite. And, fuck me, but I want to—I want to leave my mark, claim her as mine. A love bite that she’ll work hard to cover up in public while tracing it with her fingers when she’s alone.Jesus. “You drove me nuts. Every day for an entire semester, you pushed me to my limits.” I meet her gaze, then add, “Did you wantme?”

Her lips part on a sharply drawn breath at my question, and I wish she’d drop the damn poster and let me inclose.

“I was dating your teammate,” she says with a good dose of bitterness. “Mistake numberone.”

“Mistakes can be forgiven.” I nudge her ear with my nose, my tongue flicking out to tease her. That’s all this will be—to get my fix until I can have her. All of her. Finally. “Tell me what you meant by turning over a newleaf.”

“Just that I . . . I don’t want to be a short-term girl. I’ve done it. I’ve been that girl foryears. So no, I don’t want to be the quintessential puck bunny who’s down for a quick hookup and nothing else. I want more. I-Ideservemore.”

She does. She deserveseverything.

I step back and reach down to grab my duffel and then her hat in one smooth move. Gwen’s ridiculous poster is still plastered to her chest as she watches me carefully, as though uncertain of my nextmove.

“Take me on an adventure, MissJames.”

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