Page 32 of My Pucking Perfect Goalie

But Sammy is properly good-looking. Strong cheekbones, the kind of eyes that look like they’re always sparkling. Everything about him, from the way he sits to how his gaze settles on you, is handsome. Attractive.

“I wouldn’t ask you out,” Sammy says, leaning forward. “Because you wouldneverbe interested in me.”

I say nothing. Self-preservation.

Instead, I say, “Okay, fine. Then how would you askHarperout?”

He blinks, shifts in his seat, finally uncrosses his arms and runs his hands over his jeans, his eyes on the floor. After a moment, he lifts them up, fixing them on mine.

“Hey,” Sammy starts, his voice a bit rough, and my heart starts to squeeze. There’s something about his voice—soft, fervent desperation—that makes my skin hot. “I’ve been thinking this for a while, and I just want you to know. You don’t have torespond, but—I think you’re amazing. Funny. Kind. And I can’t stop thinking about you. Every day I’m around you is better for it.”

After a moment, I realize I’ve stopped breathing, and suck in a quick, hurried breath.

But Sammy isn’t finished.

Leaning forward, he gently places a palm on my knee, which sends sparks traveling up my leg, bursting throughout my hips and spreading the heat through my body. My eyes are locked on his hand until he starts to speak again.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

My office is suddenly tiny, and yet, there’s still too much space between Sammy and me. If we were back in California, my office door would be glass. Penny—or anyone from the hallway—would be able to glance in and see me.

But here, the office door is heavy, polished oak. Besides the windows on the far wall, which only face the Vermont sky, Sammy and I are completely secluded.

Alone.

I feel nearly paralyzed as I drift toward him, chest rising and falling softly, entire body itching for the moment his nose brushes against mine.

His hand tightens on my thigh, and his eyes skip down to my lips.

And reality comes rushing back—Sammy is my client. A client I’m currently pushing to pursue another woman.

When I rock back, standing up abruptly, Sammy lets out a noise that I could almost interpret as disappointment. But that doesn’t make sense, so I push it from my head. Stalk back behind my desk, flattening my palms against the wood and using the touch to ground myself.

Sammy meets my eyes again, and when I speak, my voice comes out as clean and professional as it would with any other client.

“That’s great,” I say, leveling my gaze at him and ignoring the way my heart continues to pound in my chest. “Now, you need to try that out on Harper.”

Sammy

“Looking good, Braun!”

When Grey calls out to me across the rink, it cements what I already know—everything feels right today.

My movements are quick, actions precise, every save I’ve managed today has been clean and controlled. The daily morning yoga has really started to pay off—my limbs feel loose and focused, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

Brett and Morrison are running drills against me, firing shots from different angles. Most of the other guys took off when practice was officially over, but Grey asked our forwards to stay.

So far, they haven’t gotten a single shot off on me. It’s like time slows down every time they hit the puck. I can track it perfectly, can see where it’s going before it gets there.

“Somebody has been doing their homework,” Brett teases, tapping his stick against the ice when I deflect a wide shot from him. “What is that? Like, fifteen saves in a row?”

“Seventeen!” Isaac calls, from his place on the bench. He has his very own tablet now, and marks things down during practice when Finn can’t make it. She’s tracking everything about my life now—saves, reaction times, water intake, even how long I’m sleeping down to the second.

The videographer is hanging around near Isaac, chatting with him between shots. The thought of Finn watching this tape later makes me straighten up.

She’ll analyze every movement. Every motion. Like she has been for the past three weeks. The moment the regular season started, she became even more serious. I hadn’t thought it was possible.

Without meaning to, I think about the look on her face when we’d been role playing in her office. When I’d said she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

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