Page 92 of The Pucking Player

I scan the email, my heart pounding like a caged bird against my ribs.

“Dear Ms. Novak,” I read aloud, “I’m pleased to confirm your acceptance into HealthFirst’s summer leadership program...”

Jenna’s squeal could shatter glass. “You got it!”

“...your discussion of healthcare accessibility initiatives particularly impressed our panel...”

“Of course it did!”

“...looking forward to your contributions to our pediatric outreach program...”

“Because you’re a freaking genius!”

“Jenna!” I laugh, shoving her as she attempts to strangle me with a celebratory hug. “Let me finish!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She’s bouncing on her knees like an overcaffeinated puppy. “But this is huge! This is exactly what you wanted!”

She’s right. This internship is perfect—prestigious, focused on pediatric care, and based right here in Manhattan.

Where Liam is.

No. Nope. Not going there.

“...program begins June fifteenth,” I continue reading, determinedly squashing that thought. “Please confirm your acceptance by...”

My voice trails off as another thought crosses my mind.

“What?” Jenna pokes me. “What’s wrong?”

I swallow hard. “I just remembered that they are the official healthcare partner of the New York Defenders.”

Because of course they are. The universe clearly hasn’t had enough fun torturing me yet.

“So?” Jenna grabs my shoulders. “Sophie Novak, do not even think about letting that puck-head heartbreaker affectthis opportunity. This is your thing. Your future. Your dream.”

“I know, but?—”

“No buts!” She gives me a little shake. “You earned this. They didn’t offer you this internship because of who you were dating. They offered it because you’re brilliant and passionate and impressed them with your scary-smart healthcare policy knowledge.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “I might have gone a little overboard with the Medicare statistics.”

“You’re a badass.” She squeezes my shoulders. “Now, are you going to let some guy ruin this for you? Even if he does have unfairly good hockey hair?”

I glance at the drawer where my phone’s probably exploding with more ESPN alerts about Liam’s latest publicity stunts.

“No,” I say firmly. “No, I’m not.”

“That’s my girl!” Jenna releases me to do a victory dance lap in my bedroom. “Now reply to this email before I do it for you. And then we’re definitely getting you that red bikini I saw at Bloomingdale’s. The one that screams ‘too hot for your drama.’”

I turn back to my laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. This is what I wanted. What I worked for. A chance to make a real difference in healthcare, to start building my future.

A future that doesn’t include certain blue-eyed hockey players who clearly have their own plans.

“Dear HealthFirst Human Resources,” I type, my resolve strengthening with each word. “I am honored to accept...”

“With that settled, now all that’s left to do is decide which school to go to,” I sigh, while my friend waves me off.

“Choices, choices.”

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