Page 7 of The Pucking Player

He lifts his hands and braces them on the wall on either side of me, his arms caging me in without even touching me. There’s still space between us, but it doesn’t feel like enough. The heat of him is smothering, overwhelming every nerve in my body.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, but his gaze stays unrelentingly locked on mine.

My body is traitorous. Liquid warmth pools low in my belly, and I feel the unmistakable buzz of desire coursing through me, unraveling all my carefully laid defenses.

I’ve spent my whole life promising myself I wouldn’t end up like my mother. That I wouldn’t lose myself in someone else’s orbit. And yet, here I am, barely holding it together in front of a man who has “trouble” written all over him.

Liam leans in, his breath brushing against my lips, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to close the small gap between us.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and low, like a secret meant only for me. “Alone.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. I force myself to remember my plans—med school, my future, my independence. “Okay,” I say slowly, dragging the word out as I try to regain my footing.

His smirk finally breaks through, infuriatingly charming and entirely self-assured. “Can I have your phone number, angel?”

I blink, thrown completely off balance. “My phone number?”

“Yeah,” he says smoothly, his eyes dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting mine again. “I want to call you. Ask you out.”

I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears, my heart hammering against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape. “You want to…ask me out? Like on a date?”

He chuckles, a low, velvety sound that spreads through me like a warm drink on a cold day. “Yeah, angel. A date. Dinner, dancing, maybe a movie…the classics. I’ll make it memorable.” His gaze drops to my mouth again, lingering, and I swear I can feel the phantom pressure of his lips on mine.

My face flames, heat spreading from my cheeks to the back of my neck. This has to be a joke. Liam O’Connor—theLiam O’Connor—wants to takemeout?

I can practically hear my father’s voice in my head.This is a bad idea, Sophie. Stay away from him. He’s a player.

And Dad isn’t wrong. Liam O’Connorisa player. The definition of trouble.

The thought slices through the haze of lust clouding my brain, sharp and sobering. How many times have I heard the story? Star player sweeps young professional off her feet, promises her the world, only to expect her to revolve aroundhisworld instead.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remember who I am. Who I’ve worked so hard to be.

“I’m sorry, but it’s impossible,” I whisper, my voice trembling even as I try to stand firm.

The air between us crackles with tension, and for a moment, neither of us moves.

Liam straightens slowly, his hands dropping from the wall, but instead of stepping back, he wraps them around my waist, pulling me closer. His touch is scorching, sending a shiver through me as his body presses against mine.

“Why not, angel?” he asks, his lips so close to mine that they almost graze. “If you’ve got a boyfriend, you’ll have to send him packing. I don’t like to share.”

He leans in further, his mouth brushing against the shell of my ear as he fists a hand gently in my hair, holding my head steady.

My knees feel weak, and my body arches instinctively toward him, betraying me completely.

“I…I don’t have a boyfriend,” I admit, my voice barely audible.

His grin widens, the wicked glint in his eyes sparking something dangerous in my chest.

“Good,” he murmurs.

I can feel the ghost of his breath lingering on my skin, like a brand I’ll never be able to scrub off. He’s too close, his eyes fixed on mine with that determined, maddening glint that tells me he’s not used to hearing the word “no.”

My pulse is pounding in my ears, my breathing uneven, and I’m sure he can see it—all of it. The flush on my cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of my chest, the way my knees still feel weak.

But I can’t let him win.

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