Page 35 of Charming Crosschecks

His eyes widened, a flicker of hope mingling with something deeper, and she saw him lean closer. But he paused, his mouth curving into a sheepish smile.

“I stink,” he admitted with a quiet chuckle, his words laced with both humor and self-awareness. “Let me go and?—”

“Kiss me,” she urged, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her fingers curled slightly, holding him there, and she saw him melt under her gaze.

In a heartbeat, his lips were on hers—warm, firm, and utterly consuming. The chaotic noise of the room melted into a distant hum, leaving only the two of them suspended in a timeless moment. Gerry kissed her like she was the answer to every question he'd ever had, the balm to every ache he'd ever felt. The tenderness in his kiss held her captive, his unhurried movements brushing away every ounce of tension in her body.

The world ceased to exist beyond this connection. Her fingers trembled as she reached up, curling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the heat radiating from him after the game’s grueling effort. She tasted the faint tang of salt and exertion, a reminder of the battle he'd just fought on the ice. But beneath it all, she tasted him—raw, real, and undeniably hers.

Her man.

That realization swept through her like a tide, overwhelming and thrilling all at once. Gerry was claiming her, not with words but with the depth of that kiss, and she found herself wanting to be his in every way that mattered. Her grip on him tightened, anchoring herself to him as the rest of the room faded into a blur. His devotion was palpable, spoken through every brush of his lips, every gentle shift as though he feared breaking her.

The bubble of their world was abruptly pierced by a sharp, teasing voice.

“Heyyyyy!”

The sound jolted her back to reality, and her lips broke from Gerry’s, her breath hitching in protest. She turned her head to see Coeur leaning casually in the doorway, his ever-present playful grin plastered across his sweaty face. He looked just as worn as Gerry, his jersey damp with effort, but unlike Gerry, Coeur’s appearance wasn’t remotely appealing. He might be hot according to society’s standards, but not her focus. Her focus was directly on Gerry, like a horse with blinders.

“Button-Buster, you can’t eat the people. It’s frowned on by society…” he quipped, his voice dripping with amusement.

The chuckles from the others nearby hit her like cold water, bringing an unfamiliar and alarming streak of protectiveness to life. Her spine stiffened as she instinctively stepped closer to Gerry, her shoulder brushing his chest as if to shield him from the taunts.

Molly narrowed her eyes at Coeur, her lips still tingling from the kiss. “Why don’t you go find someone else to harass,” she snapped, her voice carrying a sharp edge. “I’m congratulating my favorite player.”

Coeur’sgrin widened as though he’d found a new source of entertainment. “We lost.”

Molly’s lips curved into a sly smile as she tilted her chin up. “I feel like I’ve won.”

Something shifted in Coeur’s expression. The teasing grin faltered, melting into a smile that didn’t reach his tired, shadowed eyes. There was something raw and bitter there—an envy so fleeting it might have been imagined, but it struck her with its intensity.

“I’m happy for you both,” he said quietly, though the words felt oddly hollow.

Molly wasn’t finished. She straightened, her protective instincts sharpening. “No more nicknames or teasing,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s rude, and I’d hate to have to maim you for picking on my man.”

Coeur held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk returned faintly. “Oh, ho! Is that the lay of the land now?”

Before Molly could reply, another voice joined the fray.

“Dang, dude, you smell,” Boucher called, appearing just behind Coeur with a grimace.

“You do, too,” Coeur shot back without missing a beat, rolling his eyes. “I was hoping there’d be lasagna in here or something, but nope. Dumb ol’ cheap nacho bar.”

“I thought it was supposed to be tacos? I like nachos,” Boucher offered with a shrug, trying to edge past Coeur.

“Nope,” Coeur said, holding an arm out like a barricade. “Too much emotional kissy stuff in this room for either of us. C’mon, buddy, let’s leave the lovebirds alone for a few.”

As the two bantered their way down the hall, their voices fading, Molly exhaled softly, the tension in her shoulders melting away. She turned back to Gerry, her hand still resting lightly on his neck. His eyes were locked on hers, a quiet intensity in their depths that sent a shiver racing through her.

“They’re not wrong,” Gerry murmured, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “We did lose the game by one point, but I do feel like I’ve just won.”

And as Molly leaned in to kiss him again, the rest of the world slipped away once more as she whispered softly between them.

“We both did.”

CHAPTER 11

MOLLY

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