Page 6 of The Pucking Player

“Appreciate it.”

We rejoin the group, and my eyes immediately seek out Sophie. She’s animatedly talking to Emilia, her face lighting up as she describes one of the kids we just visited. A fresh wave of desire crashes over me, strong enough to make my carefully crafted composure slip for a second.

That ice bath after practice is gonna hit differently today.

But as we work our way down the hallway, the universe seems hell-bent on cock blocking me. Every time I try to approach her, someone demands my attention. First, Jessica wants my input on a social media post. Then it’s a group of nurses who want a picture with Nate and me. Then it’s a kid showing me his hockey cards.

I play my part, smiling for the cameras, signingautographs, being the Liam O’Connor everyone expects. But my eyes keep drifting back to Sophie.

The way she kneels to a child’s level when they speak. How her laugh carries down the hallway, warm and unrestrained. The gentle way she coaxes shy kids into conversations.

She’srealin a way that makes my carefully built image feel paper-thin.

Nate catches my eye from across the hallway, shrugging apologetically. I know he’s trying to give me an opening, but time is running out. We’ve been through five rooms already, and we’re nearing the end of the visit.

Just as I’m starting to consider a different strategy for getting her number, Nate gives me a subtle nod.Now or never.

He smoothly inserts himself between Jessica and Emilia, steering the conversation toward the upcoming charity auction.

I don’t hesitate.

I seize my chance, reaching out to gently grasp Sophie’s arm.

She turns, startled, her emerald eyes going wide. A soft gasp escapes her lips, and for a moment, I’m completely lost in the depths of her gaze.

“Liam, what—” she starts, but I don’t let her finish.

With a gentle tug, I pull her into a quiet hallway, away from the others.

3

NO MEANS MAYBE

SOPHIE

I’ve been dreaming about Liam O’Connor ever since I was a teenager. Back then, it was exciting. Safe. Because it wasn’treal.

But now, with his fingers wrapped around my arm, pulling me into an empty hallway, I don’t feel safe at all.

Don’t lose your head, Sophie. Remember who you are.

The mantra echoes in my mind, the same words I’ve repeated to myself for years, words that have been my anchor every time I’ve watched my mother disappear into my father’s world. Margaret Chen: top of her class at Columbia Law, on her way to making partner by thirty…until she met Mark Novak. Until his dreams swallowed hers whole.

And now Liam O’Connor—towering, magnetic,too muchin every way—is looking at me like I’m his next meal.

And he seems to be starving.

His sudden movement catches me off guard, and I stumble slightly, my body colliding with his solid frame. His hands steady me, one gripping my waist, the other pressinglightly against my hip. His touch burns, even through the layers of my blouse.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t step back. Instead, his hands stay exactly where they are, firm and grounding, as if he’s afraid I might run.

And maybe I should.

Instead, I lift my gaze to meet his, and my breath hitches in my throat. For a moment, I can’t think. Can’tbreathe. There he is—Liam O’Connor, the man I used to scribble about in my journal, the star athlete I’d daydreamed about for years, standing so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.

He’s devastating. The epitome of every whispered dream and silent yearning I’ve harbored since my teenage years. With his effortlessly chiseled features that seem to mock the very notion of imperfection, he draws in the gaze of anyone fortunate enough to behold him. He’s the one who haunts the dreams of countless girls, the object of desire for every woman who crosses his path. His sharp jaw clenches as he studies me, and those piercing blue eyes—so luminous on the ice, so calculating on camera—flicker warmly as they trace the contours of my face.

This is how it starts. This is how it must have started for Mom too—a moment of weakness. A magnetic man with all the right moves, making you forget your plans.

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