Page 6 of One Pucking Chance

Max and I laugh and answer in unison. “Logan.”

“Ahh.” Finn nods as if that makes total sense.

Beckett and a few others join us as we enter the building. “What is this place?” he asks.

“A movie studio. Hollywood here has told us all about it,” I say, pointing toward Miles.

Beckett eyes Miles. “Hollywood.” He nods. “Yep, you’re definitely a Hollywood. He looks like a classic movie star—dark hair, bright blue eyes.”

“Exactly,” Max agrees. “He looks like a more muscular version of Ian Somerhalder.”

“Who the hell is Ian Somerhalder?” Cade asks.

“You know that vampire show that all the women love? There are two brothers. He’s the bad one,” Max answers.

A round of laughter ensues.

“What vampire show?” I ask.

Max holds his hands out, palms up. “I don’t know. Remember that girl Monique that I was hanging out with for a while? She used to make me watch it. She was obsessed with that Ian guy. She looked him up on Insta and made me read all about him. He sells whiskey now.”

“What the…?” I question. This conversation has veered off into something ridiculous, which is the norm now that I think about it.

Bash joins us now. “Vampire Diaries.” He lifts his shoulders. “Hattie used to make me binge it with her. It’s not bad. A little cheesy but not bad.”

“Ah, Cookie…” Beckett grins. “Meet Hollywood.” He points at Miles.

“What is going on here?” Miles’s face scrunches up as he eyes the guys around him.

I lean in and bump his shoulder with mine. “That, my friend, is how long it takes for one to go from Logan to Sean or, in your case, Miles to Hollywood.”

“And seriously”—Max motions around the space—“enlighten us, Hollywood. What are we seeing here?”

Miles accepts his new nickname with a simple bob of his shoulders and points out a tall light used in filming.

Hollywood is a perfect nickname for Miles because he knows his stuff. I find myself actually listening to his short movie studio lesson as I lift my water bottle to my mouth and take a big gulp.

Sweet perfume wafts through the air, and I turn mid-chug. The world changes as I know it. In an instant, my life is forever changed—split into two categories—before this moment and after. For I am face-to-face with the woman of my dreams.

At this moment, I realize I’m completely unprepared for this wish to come true. Had I been equipped, I wouldn’t make an utter fool out of myself.

But as life would have it, I do—make this meet and greet—the one I’ve only dreamed of—an absolute calamity.

Shocked at her presence, I gasp, inhaling the mouth full of water into my lungs. The sensation burns, and I start gagging and coughing, unable to breathe. The proximity of this woman makes everything worse. I’ve inhaled water before, and though it’s never been a pleasant experience, this elevates it to a whole new level. The embarrassment I feel—coming face-to-face with the goddess before me in this manner is unreal. I’m coughing and gagging. My eyes are watery, and I’m certain my face is red as I force out one disgruntled hack after the next, trying to get air into my lungs. Apparently, the universe is one cruel bitch, and I’m its prime target. This is truly unbelievable.

Her eyes go wide as she cautiously looks from me to Penny, who stands at her side. Her beautiful blue-eyed gaze scans my body as if I’m some freak from another planet. The air around us is saturated in awkward tension. The guys stare at the movie star before us and murmur among themselves, no doubt wanting to say something but unable to get a word in over the inhuman noises coming from my mouth.

I swallow hard. Tears escape from my eyes, and I swipe them away. I hit my chest, and finally, a bit of oxygen fills my lungs. “Sorry, wrong pipe,” I croak out.

Penny looks at me, her lips pressed together in amusement. I could be wrong, but I swear her smirk is one of satisfaction. Our evil head of PR, Ms. Penny Dreven, waits a few more seconds while my coughing dies down.

Once Penny’s satisfied that my coughing is under control, she clears her throat. “So Miss Annalise Sterling here, along with some of her cast mates and crew, will join us for this meet and greet. There are tables set up.” She points behind her toward the other end of the massive building. “Each of your seats are labeled. So please find your name on the tables. Behind each of your chairs will be a box of your pink jerseys that you can sign and hand out to the fans who come through.”

Penny looks at Annalise and asks, “Is there anything you want to add?”

Annalise wrinkles her nose and averts her gaze from me before she eyes the other players. “Thank you all for coming. This is going to be really fun. Breast cancer awareness is a philanthropic endeavor near and dear to my heart, and it’s good to have you here.” She wrings her hands in front of her as if she doesn’t know what else to say. And I don’t blame her. I’m still confused myself as to the connection between an NHL hockey team and the cast of some movie.

But honestly, I couldn’t care less why these two groups were paired together because this might be the best day of my life, if only I can turn my world-class hacking-coughing blunder around. First impressions are important, but they’re definitely not everything.

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