Page 11 of Hooked On Them

Even as these thoughts raced through my head, I couldn’t make myself let go. She felt too right in my arms, like she belonged there. Like finding the perfect hockey stick with the right weight, curve, and balance.

The shutter sound of a camera shattered the moment like a referee’s whistle ending a play before the puck was in the net.

“Now that’s what I call chemistry!” Carter’s voice was entirely too pleased with himself as he lowered his camera.

Nora’s face lit up as she turned toward him, though her hand lingered on my chest a moment longer than necessary.

Right. Because she’d been flirting with him all night. This moment, whatever it was, was the champagne talking. She wasn’t interested in me. I was just the difficult player she had to manage.

I sneered. “Chemistry? Please. She’s drunk enough to throw herself at anyone with a pulse tonight. Even one of her players.”

Hurt flashed briefly across her face but was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Carter, let’s get out of here.”

Carter gave me a look that saidwhat the fuck?before following Nora toward the exit onto the deck. He looked at me with confused disgust and a side of judgment like I’d attacked someone during a handshake line.

I quickly finished my whiskey before tossing a tip on the counter. My phone buzzed several times in my pocket, and I inwardly groaned.

It was the night before a game, and even though it was an exhibition game, my father was doing his usual slew of criticizing, micromanaging, and reminding me of all the ways I could fuck up.

I needed air. And maybe to punch something. I for sure needed to stop drinking whiskey that made me think ridiculous thoughts about kissing my coach.

Chapter5

Not Her First Rodeo

Carter

I’d spent the last two hours doing what I do best: photographing beautiful people. And though my camera had captured countless smiles tonight, the only one I cared about belonged to the woman who’d been occupying my thoughts since the moment I’d laid eyes on her.

There was just something about the way she carried herself that made her the most memorable person in the room. She moved with purpose, like she knew exactly who she was in a sea of people still trying to figure it out. I knew I had to have her, even if it was just for one night. Which was saying a lot coming from me because my romantic attention span was shorter than a camera flash.

The yacht had docked, and most of the guests were filing out, buzzing with the philanthropic satisfaction that comes from writing checks while drinking premium alcohol. But for me, my time on the yacht was just getting started now that I’d gotten a key for one of the rooms. Perks of being besties with one of the yacht owners and all that. Plus, I’d already tipped the staff generously to make themselves scarce.

I made my way to where Nora stood at the railing, watching the procession of designer dresses and tailored suits making their way down the gangplank. The city lights sparkled off the water, creating the perfect backdrop for what I hoped would be an exciting end to the evening.

My fingers itched to capture this moment; her silhouette against the skyline was practically begging to be immortalized.

“Get any good shots?” She didn’t turn around, but I could hear the smile in her voice as I took a few photos. Her voice suggested she knew exactly what game we were playing.

“All my shots are good.” I moved beside her, close enough that our arms brushed. “Though I have to say, my favorite subject kept trying to escape my lens.”

She turned her head to look at me, one eyebrow raised in a way that made me want to kiss the expression right off her face. “Really? And here I thought I was being so accommodating when you were snapping photos earlier.”

“Oh, you were.” I pulled my camera up, flicking through to find the candid shot I’d caught of her laughing with Paige. The way her head was thrown back, pure joy radiating from her expression was the kind of moment photographers dreamed of capturing. The real her, unguarded and magnificent. “See? Absolutely stunning.”

“Hmm.” She leaned in to look at the display, and her closeness made me want to bury my face in her neck. “Not bad.”

I scrolled over until I found the one of her and Dominic cozied up at the bar. While I hadn’t been happy to see them together, I had to admit there was something about their chemistry. “And what about this one?”

She stiffened slightly, and I closely watched her face as it remained indifferent. “Someone bumped into me, and my leg is a bit tired after training camp this week, and now these heels.” She lifted one of her feet and moved her foot around.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” I looked down, thinking I’d missed something.

She parted her dress where there was a slit and put her right foot on one of the railing rungs. I was confused at first, but when she grabbed my hand and placed it in the center of the floral tattoo covering most of her quad, I felt the difference in skin texture.

I cleared my throat. “What happened?”

“When I was fourteen, my mom and I were in a car accident. She died, and I broke my femur on my landing leg.”

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