Page 111 of The Pucking Player

“What can I say?” That stupid, gorgeous grin spreads across his face. “I’ve got a thing for complicated girls with even more complicated coffee orders.”

“And I’ve got a thing for hockey players who learn how to make them anyway.”

His laugh rumbles through me as he pulls me closer, pressing his forehead to mine. All around us, the Garden is electric with celebration, but I barely notice. Because Liam O’Connor just laid his heart bare on center ice, and somehow that’s only the second craziest thing he’s done for me.

The first was walking into that coffee shop, taking one look at the chaos I created, and deciding right then that some complications are worth the risk.

EPILOGUE

EXTRA HOT EVER AFTER

Sophie

Turns out being a hockey girlfriend involves a lot of barbecues. Which is how I find myself at the Defenders’ end-of-playoff-run celebration, watching my boyfriend (fiancé? We’re still negotiating that timeline) work the grill like he works the ice.

“Your boy’s getting cocky with those burger flips,” Jenna comments, sprawled in the deck chair next to me. “Almost as cocky as when he showed up in Miami.”

“We’re not talking about Miami.” I adjust my Columbia Med sweater, pretending I don’t still think about that quick spring break getaway that turned into something else entirely. “I’m still mad at you for texting him our hotel details.”

“Please.” She tosses a cherry tomato at me. “You haven’t been mad since he showed up at our pool with that ridiculous grin of his.”

I catch the tomato, my own grin betraying me. Because she’s right—I haven’t been mad since that weekend. Notwhen Liam kept showing up at the library during finals with perfectly brewed oat milk cappuccinos. Not when he rearranged his training schedule to match my study breaks. Not even when he “accidentally” let it slip to the entire team that I got into Columbia’s MD/PhD program.

He catches my eye across the yard and winks, absurdly handsome. My heart does that stupid flutter thing. Apparently being together for months hasn’t changed that at all.

“You’re staring,” Jessica sing-songs, appearing with fresh drinks. “Again.”

“I am not.” But I definitely am. “How’s the PR machine handling our little scandal these days?”

“Please.” She settles into the chair on my other side. “You two are the best thing to happen to the Defenders’ image since Dmitri’s daughter started doing post-game interviews in Russian.”

As if on cue, a small blur of blond curls races past us, clutching what looks suspiciously like her father’s phone. Dmitri follows, calling out in Russian. Before he can catch up, Erin materializes from nowhere, scooping up little Ris with practiced ease. She hands the phone back to Dmitri, and something electric crackles between them before they both quickly look away. The moment’s gone so fast, I almost think I imagined it.

“Hey.” Liam’s suddenly behind me, his hands warm on my shoulders. “Are you guys talking about me?”

“You wish.” But I tilt my head back for his kiss, ignoring Jenna’s fake gagging sounds.

“Don’t encourage him,” Jessica warns as Liam drops a kiss on my head. “His ego’s already taking up half of Manhattan.”

“Only half?” He settles into the chair with me, pulling me into his lap. “I must be losing my touch.”

“You’re burning the burgers,” I point out, even as I lean back against his chest.

“Let them burn.” His voice rumbles through me. “I’m comfortable.”

A chorus of protests erupts from the team, who’ve apparently been monitoring the grill situation. Finn swoops in to rescue what’s left of the burgers, coincidentally right as Jessica heads to the drink cooler nearby.

“Coffee tomorrow?” he asks, trying for casual as he flips a burger.

Jessica pulls out a sparkling water without looking at him. “Can’t. Busy with the media coverage for next week’s charity event.”

“Right.” His shoulders drop slightly. “Another time then.”

She heads back to us, and I catch the way her eyes flick to him before she settles into her chair.

“You two are ridiculous,” I mutter into my drink.

“What?” She arches one perfect eyebrow. “If he ever musters up the courage to ask me on a real date—not just coffee between meetings—I might actually say yes.”

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