Page 96 of In the Defensive Zone with My Enemy

“Hi there.” I fist my hands at my sides, resisting the urge to touch her face. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“Sure. Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

Is that hope I see in her eyes? I hold my hand out as an offering, letting her make the choice whether to take it or not. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Um, sure.” She slips her fingers into mine, which amps up my hope meter.

The warmth of her touch settles the nervous energy ripping through me somewhat. This feels like a victory—like that moment when I hit the puck and hold my breath, waiting to see if I make the goal.

I lead her out the door and around the arena along the same route we walked before. As we turn the corner of the building, Kinsley and my father walk toward us.

When I look down at Sophie, her brows draw together for a moment. She smiles, then glances up at me. “Luke, is that?—?”

“Yeah.”

As we stop, I hold my hand out to my father. “Sophie, I’d like you to meet my dad, Theodore Jameson.”

He takes Sophie’s hand and shakes it. “Just Ted, okay?”

Her smile flashes again, making her eyes tilt in that way I’ve come to appreciate…and love. “So great to meet you, Ted.”

Kinsley rushes Sophie with a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Her expression turns tender as she wraps her arms around my sister. “Me too.”

An ache hits my chest as I watch Sophie and Kinsley together. Right here, this is what I want. I know we stillhave a lot of things to work out with my dad, but family is everything and worth fighting for. So is Sophie.

My father gestures to Sophie. “I loved the article you wrote about Luke.”

She blushes. “Thank you.”

A twinkle gleams in his eyes. “She’s quite the writer.”

“Yes, she is.” I turn to face her. “She’s also the woman I’m in love with.”

Sophie’s eyes widen with her stare. Her mouth opens, shuts, then opens again, but she’s not saying anything. As I reach out and entwine my fingers with hers, Kinsley tugs our father down the sidewalk to give us some space.

I didn’t plan this part. I intend to tell my sister she can have anything she wants—including a car if I make it to the NHL—as a thank you for giving us this moment. But deep down, I’m afraid of losing Sophie. More than I realized. Something I’ll probably need therapy for too, but I need her to know how I feel. No matter what.

She tightens her fingers with mine. “You love me?”

I lift our joined hands and kiss her fingers. “I hope that’s okay.”

Her eyes dart back and forth as she searches my face. Then she launches herself at me, hands wrapped around my neck as she presses her lips to mine. Instinctively, I crush her against me, returning her kiss with equal passion.

Our kiss turns tender, but then she buries her face against my chest and she’s shaking. Is she crying?

I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Soph, are you okay?

She nods vigorously.

“Are you crying?”

She nods again, then leans her head back to look at me. “You really love me?”

“I do.” I smile as I run my finger along the edge of her bangs and down her cheek, memorizing every detail of her face. Butit’s what I see in her eyes that finishes me off. Sophie loves without reservations, qualifications or assumptions. I should be the one having a hard time believing she loves me despite all I’ve put her through.

“Are you sure, Iceman?” She runs a finger over the shape of my lips, sending heat through me.

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