Page 72 of Coach's Temptation

Natalie shifts her weight, and I catch her glancing sideways at the others. In that split second, while Connor dumps an entire bag of powdered sugar over Ryder's head and Lucy shrieks with laughter, she dips down so we're hidden between the counters.

Her lips brush mine, quick and soft. Just a heartbeat of contact, gone before anyone could notice.

But holy shit.

The taste of vanilla frosting lingers on my lips. My heart pounds against my ribs where she's still got me pinned.

That single stolen moment in the middle of absolute mayhem - it's perfect.

Dangerous and reckless and absolutely fucking perfect.

She pulls back, eyes sparkling. I'm falling for this girl. I'm falling in love with her so fucking hard and fast it feels like nothing can stop us.

I lay there, probably grinning like an idiot while she wipes more frosting across my cheek. The gentle sweep of her fingers feels more intimate than it should, especially with the team destroying the kitchen around us.

I'm not even trying to get her off me now. Smear all she wants, I don't care. She's right where I want her.

"Got you good, Coach," she says loud enough for others to hear, but her eyes tell a different story.

Yeah, she's got me.

She's got me more than she knows.

But then, the kitchen door slams open with enough force to rattle the mixing bowls scattered across the floor.

We all look up, and Jordan, our assistant coach, stands in the doorway, his face carved from stone.

The laughter in the kitchen dies instantly.

Natalie gets off me and I stand up and brush myself down. My stomach drops at the look on Jordan's face. Fifteen years of coaching beside him - I know that look. Something's wrong.

"Coach. We have a problem."

My entire body goes still. The frosting on my face, Natalie's weight on my chest, the chaos around us - it all fades away. Game-day instincts surge through my veins, replacing everything else with razor-sharp focus.

"What happened?"

Jordan swallows hard. "It's Blake."

The room shifts. Connor drops the bag of sugar he's holding. Ryder's shoulders tense. Logan takes a step forward. The playful atmosphere evaporates, replaced by a thick, suffocating tension.

My stomach turns to stone.

Blake. My captain. The backbone of this team. The guy who's carried us through every obstacle this season. The reason we're all fucking here in the first place.

"Where is he?" My voice comes out like steel, all traces of laughter gone.

"Medical room." Jordan's jaw clenches. "He's saying it's fine, but..."

I'm already yanking off the ridiculous apron, not caring that it tears. "Natalie. Let's go."

She rolls off me instantly, professional mask sliding into place. The physical therapist replacing the playful woman who just kissed me. We both know what's at stake here.

One second, we're laughing. Kissing. The next, our entire season just fucking changed.

Sometimes hockey is cruel like that.

Trust me, I know.

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