Page 57 of Just My Puck
I force myself to hold his gaze, even as my stomach flips. “I do.”
A glint sparks in his eyes, and his gaze lingers on my lips for a second too long.
“Five minutes!” someone calls out from somewhere nearby, and I jump, startled by the interruption.
I clear my throat, trying to shake off the tension that hangs thick in the air. “Well, I’ll see you later. Good luck.”
I spin on my heel, my heart pounding as I try to push the image of Caleb’s smoldering gaze from my mind. Here I was, openly flirting with Caleb, and he was flirting back. What the heck does that mean?
“So, how did they react?” Marissa asks. I hadn’t even realized I’d joined the girls.
“Um, it was just like you said.” I force a chuckle. “They wereveryinterested.”
The girls laugh.
“Well, let’s get a little closer to the action. It’s about to start.”
When the guys file out of their tent, they’re all wearing the same Raptors shorts with their numbers printed on the left leg. They have shoes on, and some of them even have beanies tucked over their heads. They march down toward the beach, waving at the spectators. James is kissing his biceps while Aaron pumps up the crowd, urging them to root for him. Maxime is doing some kind of weird dance moves, amusing everyone. Other guys on the team are also encouraging cheers and blowing kisses. But I can’t keep my eyes off Caleb. He’s simply walking toward the water, waving at the fans, but it’s the first time I’m seeing him with so little clothing. His abs are rock solid and chiseled, and his whole upper body has the definition of a sculpture, a true work of art.
As he walks by me, his eyes drop to my open coat, and he winks. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’m still standing at this point.
Coach Martin blows his whistle, and the guys scramble toward the water, the crowd cheering them on and applauding.
“Oh, gosh,” Emma groans, looking away. “I can’t watch. This is brutal.”
Indeed, most of the guys’ smiles are gone now, replaced by crisped faces. They’re immersed in the frigid water up to their shoulders, and it doesn’t take long for some of them to call it quits. It’s been forty seconds, and there are only seven players left in the water. Our entire friend group is still submerged, probably motivated by their inside bet.
The girls are shouting their encouragement, and I just watch in silence, petrified, wondering how they can possibly withstand those temperatures when I’m freezing just by having my coat open.
Two more players call it quits at the one-minute mark, leaving our group and Stan, the equipment manager.
Thirty seconds later, Stan runs out of the water. And shortly after, it’s Beaumont who’s throwing in the towel.
For a brief moment, everything else fades as Caleb’s eyes lock onto mine, and the noise around us dulls to a quiet hum. I can feel the tension crackle between us—his gaze sharp, almost searching, as if he’s weighing something unspoken. My chest tightens, my breath catching in my throat. I’ve never felt so exposed under the intensity of his stare—even with all the chaos of the crowd surrounding us.
James lets out a loud cry beforegiving up, scurrying toward the tent. Then, Aaron turns to Caleb, says something, and runs out of the water as well. Leaving him as the last man standing.
Wait. Caleb won! Pride surges through me as I applaud and jump on my feet. How crazy is it that he lasted over three minutes in ice-cold water?
A roar of applause and cheers erupts on the beach, the crowd chanting Caleb’s name. He quickly hustles out of the water, waving at everyone as he jogs toward the warm-up tent. As he passes next to me, our eyes meet again. The heat from his gaze cuts through the cold air and warms me from the inside out.
My heart races, my skin flushing beneath my coat. And suddenly, the cold wind against my skin is a distant memory. Maybe I’m the one who should take a cold plunge, though honestly, I’m not sure that would be enough to cool down this inferno.
23
"Raptors fan or not, you’re stuck with me now.”
Caleb Hawthorne
I managed to withstand over three minutes in freezing-cold water, but I’d take that torture any day over the excruciating pain of not kissing Aria’s beautiful lips. Our exchange earlier, and the way our eyes locked, is what kept me warm during the plunge. The heat of her gaze could have fueled me for hours. There’s always been a vibe between us, especially these past few days, but this time, she was openly flirting with me. I just had to ask about the jersey, unsure whether sheknew the implications, but she was well aware. Goosebumps erupt over my skin at the reminder—and not because of the cold.
We’ve been separated the rest of the afternoon. I had to do some interviews and pose for pictures for the charity, and she helped the crew clean up the beach. After that, the girls whisked her away to get ready for her birthday party. The guys and I are now hanging out at Deacon’s bar, which has been privatized for the occasion. We’ve already been here fifteen minutes, but so far, no sight of the girls.
Emma’s husband, Auston, is off work today, so Miles and I are catching up with him and Deacon when the front door opens, and Aria walks in.
When she saunters through the door, I almost drop my drink. She’s wearing a long black dress that seems molded to her body, her hair is tied up in a bun, and her eyes peer from beneath dark makeup. I’m vaguely aware that the rest of the girls are behind her, but I can’t focus on them, too hypnotized by how beautiful Aria looks. There is zero chance I’ll survive the night without kissing her.
Her eyes roam the room until they land on me. She smiles, her cheeks flushing just enough for me to notice.
