Page 46 of My Pucking Perfect Goalie

And then she sits up, and our eyes meet.

I’m still panting, on my knees, chin slick from her lust. Her eyes are dark, unfocused, wary, and I already know what’s coming—the immediate backtrack she’s going to do.

And what thefuckam I doing?

“Holy shit,” Finn breathes.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say, watching as she stiffens, the reality of what just happened coming to her now, her face sobering up. “Shit, I’m sorry, Finn, it was—”

“—a mistake,” she finishes, her voice hard. I rock back, out of her space, wiping my chin on my sleeve and wiping my fingers—I’m almost ashamed to admit—on the hotel carpet.

“Yeah, I’m sorry—” I start.

“Stop apologizing, it was—I was—”

“—it won’t—”

“Sammy—”

“—happen again.”

With her skirt zipped up, but wrinkled, she pauses, her eyes swinging to mine. It’s impossible for me to read her expression, and it doesn’t help that I’m kneeling here, still fully erect, before her. I can smell her everywhere around me. Even the sight of her bare legs is keeping me hard.

“You won’t let it happen again,” she says, clearing her throat. “Right. Good.”

Something about this isn’t right. Something about her clipped tone doesn’t match what I know about her, but I can’t figure it out. I feel paralyzed as she gets shakily to her feet, reaching out to the bed post for stability as she starts to wobble to the door. I realize her high heels never even came off, and that thoughtalsokeeps me hard.

She’s blinking fast when she passes me, and my brain works double time, trying to figure out what to do. It’s hard to form a thought through the haze of the lust, of the total dream of what just happened.

“Finn—” I finally manage, just as she reaches the door.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” she says, cutting me off, and my next word is swallowed in thewhooshof the closing mechanism and the electronic sound of the lock.***

Later, that night, I’m half-awake, feeling sorry for myself and trying to figure out what to do while the hotel TV screen flickers, casting ghostly white light on the desk and duvet. I tried going to Finn’s door, but I couldn’t bring myself to knock. Then Brett came whistling down the hallway, and I had to pretend I was just going to get some ice before he caught on.

Now, the TV switches from news to sports. The familiar jingle plays, just barely audible, through the room, and I turn to my side, numbly taking it in.

“Welcome back to our newest segment, The Breakaway, where we’re all about hockey. I'm Dave Chen alongside Chris Martinez,and we're diving into a story I truly never thought we would cover. Chris, what the hell is going on with Sammy Braun?”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure, Dave, but I’ll tell you one thing—Coach Grey Aldine is sure as hell pretty pleased with whatever got into that kid’s drinking water. When we started this season, there were serious questions about Braun. Rumors about being traded and declining performance. With the exit of a seasoned goalie, he was set to take on the brunt of the work, and many of our analysts thought for sure Aldine was looking for an escape route. But what we're seeing now is nothing short of extraordinary.”

Was Coach looking for an escape route?

“The numbers don't lie, Chris. His save percentage has jumped from .891 last season to an impressive .934 this year. That's actually—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—elite territory.”

“And let's talk about that save against Toronto, Dave. The kind of acrobatic move we used to see from more dedicated veterans like Bennett. Speaking of Bennett, sources say he's been working with Braun!”

“What sources? I’d like to chat with them because I’m calling bullshit on that. As if Bennett doesn’t have better things to do with his retirement.”

“Alright, alright,” Chris laughs, hitting his palm against the table. “But even if Bennett isn’t involved, let’s talk about Braun’s mental transformation—remember early in the seasonwhen he'd crumble under pressure? Those breakaway situations where you could practically see the anxiety radiating off him?”

“Hard to forget that four-goal disaster against the Rangers.”

“Exactly. But now? He's stone cold in front of the net. That save percentage on breakaways has skyrocketed from 38% to nearly 75%. I don’t want to jump the gun on this one, but can we hear the whispers of the Stanley Cup, returning to the Vipers this year?”

“If you want to address the elephant in the room, Chris, we can, and it’s this: Can the Vipers really make another Cup run without Devon Chambers?”

Laughter from the studio. My eyes are burning, heavy. I feel my body starting to drift off.

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