Page 27 of The Pucking Player

We both collapse into another fit of giggles, the earlier tension evaporating like steam.

“See?” Jessica says, wiping her eyes. “Now back to business. You and Liam areperfectfor this PR stunt.”

I push my bowl away, suddenly restless. “Look, Jess, I get what you’re trying to do, but…it’s Liam O’Connor we’re talking about. The guy’s a certified heartthrob. And that’s exactly the problem.”

Jessica raises a single eyebrow, a wicked smirk creeping across her face. “Oh? Do tell, little sis.”

I feel heat creeping up my neck. “Don’t give me that look. You know what I mean. He’s…he’s…”

“Devastatingly handsome? Built like Achilles? The star of your naughtiest dreams?” Jessica supplies, grinning like the devil herself.

“Jess!” I bury my face in my hands, completely mortified. “That’snotthe point!”

Jessica’s voice softens, dropping that teasing edge just enough to catch me off guard. “Sophie, honey, you’re allowed to have a life outside of med school applications, you know. A little distraction wouldn’t kill you. And besides,” she adds, her lips twitching into a wicked smile, “are you really planning to start med school as a virgin?”

The blush that had finally receded comes rushing back full force. “Jessica! That’s not happening. No way, no how. I need to focusallmy energy on getting into the med school of my choice. I can’t…Iwon’tlet anything derail that.”

Jessica smirks like the cat that got the cream, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. “Relax, baby sis. Let mebreak it down for you and explain how it works: That wouldn’t derail you. If anything, it’d relax you. It’s called stress relief, girlie.” Her grin stretches wide, sly and gleaming. “And honestly? There are worse things than losing it to a guy who knows what he’s doing. You’ve had a crush on him for ages, Soph.”

My sigh comes out louder than I intended, part exasperation, part surrender. “When you put it like that…”

Jessica throws up her hands in mock triumph, laughing. “Finally! See? I’m always right.”

I shake my head, resigned but unable to keep the smile off my face. “Fine, fine. I’ll go. But if Daddy starts handing out chastity belts at the door, I’m out.”

Jessica’s grin is dazzling as she practically dances around the kitchen. “Deal. Now eat up. We’ve got a gala to prepare for, and a certain blue-eyed hockey player to knock off his skates.”

I take a bite of the stir-fry, chewing slowly as I try to suppress the nervous energy bubbling inside me. Damn her cooking. It’s delicious.

“So, Liam?” I ask after a moment, my voice deliberately casual. “What does he think about all this?”

Jessica’s smile turns downright devilish, and I already regret asking. “Oh, I think you’ll find he’s very much on board with the plan,” she says with a wink. “Unlike some of his teammates, Liam doesn’t seem to have any inhibitions. At least, not when it comes to you.”

I roll my eyes, even as a small, traitorous smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Yeah, yeah. You win. But speaking of med school…I’ve been thinking a lot about Stanford lately.”

Jessica perks up, curiosity flickering across her face. “Stanford, huh? California sunshine and palm trees? I getthe appeal. But what about Columbia? It’s Mom’s alma mater, after all.”

I nod quickly, not wanting to dismiss the idea. “Columbia’s an incredible school, and it’s definitely in the running. Plus, it would keep me close to everyone here, which is hard to ignore.”

Jessica tilts her head, her green eyes thoughtful. “So then why Stanford?”

“I don’t know… The program just feels like a better fit for what I want to do. They’ve got cutting edge research in pediatric oncology and some amazing mentorship opportunities. Plus, I’ll admit, the idea of living somewhere sunny year-round is very tempting. I love New York, but these brutal winters?” I give her a pointed look.

We spend the next hour dissecting the pros and cons of each school, Jessica playing devil’s advocate like the PR mastermind she is. It’s one of the things I love most about her—how she challenges me to see things from every angle.

As the night wears on, I feel the tension from earlier easing, the nerves about Liam and the gala fading into the background. But even as we laugh and chat, a small part of my brain keeps circling back to one thought:What’s it going to be like to walk into that event on Liam O’Connor’s arm?

“So,” I ask, trying to sound offhand, “when exactly is this important gala?”

Jessica freezes, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Seriously? Have you been living under a rock, Soph? It’s the day after tomorrow!”

“What?” My voice shoots up an octave. “That’s…that’s so soon! Jess, I can’t possibly be ready in time. What about a dress? I don’t have anything even close to gala-worthy!”

A lazy grin spreads across Jessica’s face. “Oh, ye of littlefaith,” she says, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me out of the kitchen.

I barely have time to protest before she’s hauling me up the stairs and into her bedroom. Jess’s room is like stepping into a five-star hotel—plush cream linens on the king-size bed, achaiselongueby the bay window, and thepièce de résistance: her walk-in closet.

When she flings open the double doors, I can’t help but let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl,” I murmur, running my fingers over a row of silk blouses. “This is what I want when I grow up.”

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