Of course, Mom had other plans. She introduced us to a dozen more people, and it was like she knew I was trying to leave, because every time I opened my mouth, she’d talk over me.

“Sorry,” I whispered to Lindsay as I ran my hand down her back. “I promise it won’t be much longer.”

“I’m okay.” She slid her arm inside my suit coat and gave me a side-hug. Hope, way stronger than what I’d experienced the other night, whispered that while she was still against crossing fully into my world, maybe she wasn’t totally opposed to some crossing. “You’re a good son to come here and deal with this, you know.”

“Nah.”

She turned to fully face me, adding her other arm to the hug and linking her fingers behind me. “Yes. You’re a good guy, Ryder Maddox.”

“Isn’t that girl code for I’ll never date you?”

She laughed. Then her expression turned serious. “If things were different…I could really see myself slipping.”

“Just slip.” I reached up and ran my thumb across her bottom lip, my blood pumping hotter at her sharp exhale. “I’ll catch you.”

She swallowed and my heart beat so hard and fast, I wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it.

I dragged my thumb down and then cupped her chin and tipped up her head. Her eyes fluttered closed as I leaned in. Her lips were a breath away, so close I could smell the strawberry lip gloss she put on after dinner, and anticipation zinged through my veins.

“Ryder. Did you see that the police chief made it?” Mom wrapped her hand around my elbow and gave a tug. One I could easily break free from, but Lindsay took a step back, a dazed look on her face.

I bit back the harsh reply that wanted to burst from my lips and forced a smile on them instead.

“This is Lindsay,” I added after I’d greeted the police chief.And if you hadn’t shown up, I’d be kissing her right now, the way I’ve wanted to since the first moment I laid eyes on her.

“Speaking of…” My mother said, and something in her tone made the hair on my neck stand on end. “Lindsay, I wanted to introduce you to someone. She’s a newspaper columnist from New York City—I met her back when we used to live there, when Ryder’s father played for the Islanders—and I thought it’d be a good opportunity for you to talk shop with someone who’s been very successful in your industry.”

I moved to go with Lindsay, but Mom put her hand on my shoulder. “The police chief wants to talk hockey. Us girls don’t care about that, so you boys go ahead.”

Lindsay looked torn, like she wanted to correct the false assumption about hockey—no matter what she said, I knew there was part of her that cared about the sport. Or maybe I just wanted that to be true so I stopped feeling like I had to choose it or her.

Not like that’s a real option. She’s graduating in a few short months and heading to New York City, and I have two more years in Boston, plus a career in the NHL ahead of me that’ll take me who knows where.

Clearly meeting a columnist from a big paper would be a good networking opportunity for her, and that desire danced in her eyes, too.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Go dazzle her. I’ll be here when you’re through.”

To my surprise, she backtracked and gave me quick kiss on my cheek.

The police chief started right in on the hockey talk, but my attention was on Lindsay’s ass in that dress, and how I could still feel the ghost of her soft lips on my cheek.

Chapter Nineteen

Lindsay

My brain saidsay something witty,no smart, no just be coolwhile my body just stood there, useless to do anything but stare.

“…and this is Lindsay,” Sharon said, and a frown line settled between her eyebrows. Earlier there’d been a hint of disdain, but the look she gave me now spoke more to her concern that I might be having a stroke. “She’s the editor for the paper at Boston College.”

Andrea Green extended her hand and my body finally sprang into motion. I made a squeaky noise that caused a flush of heat to rush up to my face. Then I tried again, telling myself not to blow this. “Lindsay Rivera. It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve read your articles for years.”

Andrea put a hand to her chest, her red fingernails perfectly contrasting her white-and-black polka-dot blouse. “Oh, thank you. I was starting to worry my audience consisted solely of AARP members. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate them, but most people your age have no idea what a newspaper is, much less who I am.”

“Well, I assure you I’m not like most people my age in a lot of aspects.” Sometimes I worried that meant I’d forever be alone, but it was true. Still, I felt like a bit of a traitor saying that, as the people I was starting to try friendships with this semester continued to surprise me. But here I was meeting one of my idols, and how could I possibly be expected to speak coherently?

I told her that I loved her article on how the news reported on female athletes versus their male counterparts, and then talked about the article Whitney wrote for theHeights.Originally I’d been upset it wasn’t more scathing over the unfair preferential treatment of athletes, but now I was glad it’d been fair and balanced. It was much better journalism.

Plus, now I had all this empathy for Ryder and the pressure he’d dealt with his whole life because of sports, which made me feel a little more for the rest of the athletes as much as I hated to admit it, even to just myself.