Page 3 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
“Or maybe you don’t like hockey players.”
I nearly choke on my wine. “What makes you think that?”
“The way you looked at my teammates like we’re all carriers of some communicable disease.”
“Are you?”
His laugh is rich and warm and does absolutely nothing to help my resolve to avoid his type. “Probably. We’re definitely carriers of bad decisions and questionable judgment.”
I shrug. “At least you’re honest about it.”
“I have my moments.” He extends his hand. “I’m Liam, by the way. Liam Murphy.”
I hesitate for just a second before taking his hand. His grip is firm and warm, and he holds on just a beat longer than necessary. “Harper.”
“Just Harper? No last name?” he says as I release his hand.
“I don’t give my last name to strange boys at parties. It’s policy.”
“Boy?”
I lift my brow at him, and that earns me a smirk. I look down at those lips pulling at the side. My heart races around my ribs. He has a dimple in his cheek and white teeth.
Then I look back into his eyes, realizing we’re just staring at each other.
He hides his smile and finally breaks our stare. “Smart policy,” he says, looking around the room. “What about a stranger who gets you a drink?”
I lift my cup. “I already have one, thanks.”
“What about a stranger who tells you that you have the most incredible eyes they’ve ever seen?”
I roll said eyes, but I can feel heat creeping up my neck. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” he asks. There’s that smirk again.
My stomach does a flip. A back flip then a front flip.
“Pull a line. Like come on.” I look around the room, trying extremely hard not to be flattered, but I can’t hide it. I feel the heat all over my body.
He licks his lips and says, “To be fair, I’ve never seen you before, and you can’t deny that you can’t stop staring at my eyes too.”
That makes me glance at him again. This time he smiles at me, eyes flicking down my face.
“I have blue-green, and you have ice-blue.”
I blink at him. “Do lines like that actually work for you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t usually need lines.”
I start to laugh at how arrogant he is. “Right. Okay,” I mock.
And he watches me, so I stand taller to look for Maddie. I need her to save me right fucking now. My pulse is fluttering in my stomach, and I need to leave. Abort mission. Abort mission.
When I look back at Liam, he raises a questionable eyebrow, saying more with his face than words could.
I swallow the lump in my throat, wondering what’s going to give.
He’s too handsome, too smooth, too magnetic. The kind of guy who probably has a different girl every weekend and thinks commitment is a four-letter word.
