Page 29 of The Pucking Player

I try not to read too much into it.

Jenna closes the door behind me, fidgeting with her sweater. She calls out, “Sophie, your date’s here!” She turns to me, scanning me from head to toe. “So…you’re really tall.”

I laugh, tension loosening just a little. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

She nods, eyeing me skeptically, like she’s still deciding whether I’m worthy of her roommate. “Can I get you anything while you wait? Water? Coffee?” She pauses, then blurts out, “A stick to sign for my brother?”

I chuckle, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “Water would be great, thanks. And maybe we can sort out the stick situation another time.”

“He’s going to lose his mind when he finds out youwere here.” She giggles then busies herself in the kitchenette, but I barely register her movements. My focus shifts as I hear soft footsteps from one of the bedrooms. My heart stumbles, and suddenly, my palms are damp again.

But then Sophie’s voice rings out, light and warm and painfully casual. “I’ll be right there!”

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders, trying to remember how to breathe.

And then the door opens.

The first thing I notice is the sound of her heels, soft clicks against the hardwood floor as she steps into the room. Then I see her, and every coherent thought I’ve ever had goes straight out the window.

Holy. Hell.

Sophie Novak isn’t just dressed for the gala; she’s dressed to ruin me. The gown—beige silk, sleek, and impossibly elegant—clings to her curves in a way that’s both maddeningly tempting and utterly refined. The modest neckline hints at perfection without showing too much, but then she shifts slightly, and I catch a glimpse of the back. Or, more accurately, the lack of one. The silk plunges low, exposing smooth, golden skin that has no business being this captivating.

I’m vaguely aware of my pulse hammering in my ears. My hands itch to touch and trace every inch of her. My throat feels dry, like I’ve just skated five overtimes without water.

She looks up, and her green eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, and it hits me like a freight train—she has no idea just how stunning she is.

I realize I’m standing here like an idiot, staring at herwith my mouth half-open. Jenna clears her throat, pulling me out of my daze.

Right. Words. I should probably use some of those.

“Sophie,” I manage, my tone hoarse and rough. “You look…” My brain has short-circuited, and the only word I can come up with is, “Spectacular.”

Her blush deepens, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing down like she’s suddenly shy. “Thanks,” she murmurs. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

I grin, regaining a sliver of my composure. “I do my best. Although tonight I think I’ll be thoroughly outshined.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the flicker of a smile she’s trying to hide. “Flatterer.”

“Not at all. Just stating facts.” I step closer, offering her my arm. “Shall we?”

Sophie grabs a sleek white coat from a nearby chair, sliding it over her shoulders with a grace that makes my pulse stutter. The coat whispers against her dress as she picks up a sparkly clutch, checking its contents with a final glance before slipping her hand through my waiting arm. Her touch is light, but it sends a warm current through me, grounding me in the moment.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says softly, a small resolute smile on her lips.

We step out into the night, icy air biting at our exposed skin. The winter wind cuts sharp and clean, carrying with it the metallic promise of an incoming storm. The snow crunches underfoot as I guide her toward my car, keeping her close to shield her from the wind. Overhead, the sky is a deep charcoal, the first stray snowflakes swirling in the glow of the streetlights.

I open the passenger door for her, my hand lightly brushing the small of her back as she slips inside. Evenbundled up in her coat, she’s breathtaking, her beauty seeming almost otherworldly against the harsh, wintry backdrop. I close the door and circle around to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat and starting the engine. The heated leather warms quickly, but it doesn’t compare to the heat simmering low in my chest every time I glance at her.

The drive to Sleepy Hollow Country Club should only take twenty-five minutes, but the tension in the car makes every second feel stretched and electric. The air between us is thick with heightened awareness. Every shift she makes, every small movement I notice out of the corner of my eye pulls my focus in like gravity.

I clear my throat, trying to break the silence. “Hey, I just wanted to say thanks again for doing this. For the team, I mean. The whole PED scandal has been...brutal. We’re worried about losing sponsors, and you doing this with me will help our image.”

“It’s not a big deal, really. I’m hoping to get some benefit out of it too. There should be some pretty important people in the medical field there. It could be good for my future.”

I nod, impressed by how composed and pragmatic she is. “Smart thinking. Speaking of your future, how’s the whole med school thing going? Any top choices yet?”

Her face lights up at the question, and I find myself momentarily lost in the way her eyes sparkle.

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