Page 30 of Falling for the Hockey Superstar

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly tight. “It’s not just Jake.”

His expression shifts, something deeper flashing in his eyes as he turns toward me. “Really?”

My pulse kicks up, my body leaning ever so slightly toward him. I put my hands on his forearms and it feels like an explosion running through my body.

Say it. Just say it.

But then Jake calls out, “Mom! Come look at this!” and the moment shatters.

I blink and whatever just happened between us slips through my fingers. But before stepping back I tighten my grip, then move to hold his face for a moment and nod.

“Be right there, Jake,” I say, forcing a smile.

Beck’s eyes meet mine as he smiles, ever so gently. It’s enough to make my heart pound itself right out of my chest.

***

As we walk toward the locker room, Beck falls in step beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine. I feel the heat radiating off him, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

Taking my hand, he says: “I meant what I said earlier,” Beck murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

I glance up, but his eyes are focused straight ahead. “About Jake?”

“And about you.”

My steps falter, but Beck steadies me with a light touch on my elbow.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” he continues, his tone softer now. “But I know I care. A lot.”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I look up at this wonderful man.

“I’m not asking for answers.” His voice is warm, patient. “Just… don’t shut me out.”

My throat tightens, and I can’t find the words. So, I nod, hoping that’s enough for now. His hand loosens and we part slowly and deliciously.

After his second practice session we all move to the locker room where Jake is bouncing with excitement.

I’m hyper-aware of Beck beside me—how his arm occasionally brushes against mine, how his nearness makes my skin tingle.

“Just wait here,” Beck says, guiding Jake toward one of the empty benches. “I’ll grab you something cool.”

Jake nods eagerly, but before Beck can take two steps, Spotty—who’s been quiet this whole time—decides that now is the perfect moment to remind everyone he’s an energetic, oversized puppy.

“Spotty, no—”

Too late.

Spotty barrels toward Beck like he’s trying to check him into the boards.

“Whoa!” Beck barely catches himself, laughing as Spotty’s front paws land on his chest. “Easy, boy!”

I rush forward, mortified. “Spotty! Get down!”

Beck’s laughing, though, rubbing Spotty’s ears like the dog just made his day. “You missed me, huh?”

Spotty responds with an enthusiastic lick, and I groan, covering my face.

“I’m so sorry—”

---