Page 68 of My Pucking Perfect Goalie

“I already got some amazing shots. You had a great practice today,” she says.

“Thanks.”

“The lighting was perfect,” she goes on, leaning closer. Her cheeks are pink, and her lip gloss shines in the arena lighting. My mind skips to Finn, whom I’m supposed to meet with after practice, and I resist the urge to check my watch.

“You can really…feelyour confidence through the lens, you know?” Harper says.

“I don’t,” I laugh, scratching the back of my neck. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“Sammy,” she exhales, letting out like a breath she’s been holding, “my friends and I are getting together for New Year’s tonight. I want you to come and meet them.”

I blink at her, my voice caught in my throat.

Harper is asking me out. This is what I’ve wanted since the moment I saw her. When I imagined this moment, I always thought it would be a victory for me. A triumph. A miracle.

But it doesn’t feel like any of those things. It feels wrong, like I’ve stepped into the incorrect storyline. Like I’m a character, playing a part in a play.

“Here.” She smiles up at me warmly, like she thinks me being tongue-tied is because I’m too nervous to speak, and not because I’m genuinely baffled. Gently, she takes my phone from my hand and opens the notes app, jotting down the information for the party. “I’ll see you tonight, right?”

I blink at her, then down at my phone, which she’s sliding back into my hand. Before I can say anything else, Harper smiles, rises up on her tiptoes, and presses a kiss to my cheek.

My heart is hammering for all the wrong reasons as she walks away, her boots clicking against the arena floor. My gaze falls to my phone again, and I feel sick.

“I can’t believe it worked!”

I look up to see Finn walking toward me, a smile plastered over her face. For the life of me, I can’t get my brain to keep up with what’s happening.

“What?” I ask.

“Harper!” Finn says, and the smile on her face looks so genuine that I’m confused. Why would she behappythat another woman asked me out. “The whole fake dating thing worked! Now you can go on a date with her, push through the block, and take home the rest of the season!”

“Finn,” I say, shaking my head a bit likeI’mthe one with the concussion. “But—I’m spending New Year’s with you.”

And the rest of the team, at Devon and Lola’s tonight. The moment I got the invitation, I asked Finn if she wanted to come. We were cuddled in bed, and she laughed, telling me not to expect a midnight kiss.

I was planning on telling her tonight that I’m in love with her, and I want to find a way to make it work. At first, I’d thought about asking her to stay in Burlington. But after a call to my manager, I realized that I might be able to swing a transfer to California. Orsometeam on the west coast. That I might be able to make this work for her on her terms. I’d miss Burlington, and the guys would hate me for leaving. But it would be worth it.

“Not anymore!” she says, still smiling. Too much smiling—Finn never smiles this much. “Now, you’re spending it with Harper.”

“I’m not,” I say, the words coming out as a growl. Surprise flashes over her face, and her eyes flick from my eyes down to my lips. Fuck—did that justturn her on?

I have to focus, even as her eyes are dark, her lips parting the slightest bit.

“Sam—”

“I don’twantHarper, Finn,” I say, the words low. I realize I’ve backed her out of the hallway and into a little alcove. Someone would only find us here if they were looking. Crowding her against the wall, I fix her with my gaze.

I need her to know I’m serious about this. “I wantyou.”

“Don’t—” she starts, but the words get choked in her throat when our chests meet. For the first time since I first walked into her office, Dr. Finn Asher is at a loss for words.

“I want you, Finn.” I watch her watch me. She’s breathing hard, her cheeks flushed. “However I can have you. I was planning to tell you tonight but—fuck it. Harper isn’t happening anymore I thought that was obvious.”

“It’s not—”

“You’re going to let me finish,” I say, lowering my head and bracketing my hands on the wall behind her head.

She could leave if she wanted to—duck out under my arm, push me, tell me to fuck off and I would—but she stays still. I see that same flicker ofsomethingin her face that I saw last night. Something changing. Opening up. Letting me in.

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