Page 23 of Pucking Fake

He bounds to his feet with so much power and grace it's overwhelming. One second, he's on his knees at my feet. The next, he's in front of me, dragging me into his arms.

His lips come down on mine in a hard kiss. And damn me, but I kiss him back. Even as I tell myself not to do it…I do it anyway.

"I missed that," he groans against my lips, his hands digging into my waist.

I jerk out of his arms, glowering at him. "You cannot kiss me."

That wicked smirk tells me I might as well be talking to a brick wall. Are all goalies so unholy contrary or is it just this goalie? Maybe I need to learn more about this sport if I'm going to be dealing with this man. I need to learn what makes him tick so I can figure out how to counteract it.

"I mean it, Logan."

"I hear you." He doesn't hear me. He isn't even in the same dimension as hearing me. He reaches out, running his thumb along my bottom lip. "Come to the game tomorrow, baby."

"Uh, no."

"Why not?"

"Because you've stressed me out enough for one weekend."

He grins, those dimples wreaking havoc on me. And dammit all, before he even says another word…I know I'm going to that game. Just like I know I'm going to take the job if he offers it on Monday.

I'm more like my mom than I'd like to admit.

I picked a hell of a time to figure that out.

Hockey is intense. I spend most of Sunday's game on my feet, screaming my head off like a crazy person. I'm not even entirely sure what's going on, but Serena does her best to fill me in on the action. Not that I'm really paying much attention. My eyes are on Logan in the goal most of the game.

The man is a menace. I may not be the best judge but considering the way the crowd goes nuts every single time he manages to stop the puck, I'm guessing they think he's pretty talented too. He twists and contorts and ducks and dives like his life depends on it, utterly fearless of the puck and players flying toward him. I've never seen anyone move as fast as he does.

It's impressive. Really damn impressive.

"What did you think?" Serena asks once it's over. The Carvers won. Unsurprisingly. Logan wasn't letting anything past him.

"I think I need to learn more about hockey," I mutter.

She clutches my arm, laughing loudly as we join the throng heading toward the exits. As we pass by the glass partition near the ice, Logan glances in our direction.

His eyes land on me, darkening. He abandons his conversation, skating over.

"Crap," I mutter, my heart jolting against my ribcage.

"I'll just be…yeah, bye!" Serena says before abandoning me. The traitor. Her evil laugh echoes in her wake as she darts away, leaving me to face him alone.

I walk up to the glass where he's waiting. Smirking. His hair dripping wet with sweat.

God, he looks delicious.

"What did you think?" he shouts.

"Meh," I say, casually shrugging.

He chuckles, watching my face. "You had fun, didn't you?"

"I did," I say softly, fully aware of everyone looking at us as they file past. "Thanks for getting us tickets."

"Anytime, angel. You heading home?"

I nod. "Serena is waiting for me."

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