Page 6 of Just my Puck (Love & Laughter #1)

LUCY

F eeling the warmth of the sun shining through the skylights of the high library ceiling as I gently shuffle through the stacks of books, I almost forget about last night.

The library has always been my happy place, so securing a job here after school was a necessity for me, and I’m glad that I had the foresight to volunteer here first so that when an opening came up, I was the first to know about it.

When Sandra went on Maternity Leave two years ago, everyone thought she would be back when her leave was up, but she got pregnant again almost straight away and hasn’t been seen since.

It’s probably the only time in my life when good luck was on my side.

Deep in thought and lost in intense concentration, suddenly, my reverie is interrupted.

A figure has appeared near the front desk, which I’m facing, that commands the attention of the entire library.

He is tall and broad-shouldered with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, which he takes off and shoves in the back of his shorts.

His black hair is cropped close, and he runs a hand over his head in an oddly nervous gesture.

He clutches a book in his other hand as he mumbles something to Patty, who is gaping up at him in awe.

She is completely star-struck. I can’t help the snicker that erupts from my mouth, loud in the serene calmness of the library.

Clapping my hand over it, it’s too late.

He heard me.

The sunlight from the skylights falls across his scowling face as he turns toward me; he's wearing athletic shorts and a tight white tee that shows off his muscular…

everything. I squint to get a better look, and my heart skips a beat; it's Steele, the defensive hockey player. It’s not surprising.

Not many men in Coe Bay are so tall and built like brick shithouses.

He stands awkwardly, glancing at me with a puzzled expression.

The bookshelves glow warmly in the late morning light, and he looks as out of place here as snow would during summertime.

Trying to be subtle, I slip behind the stacks and peek through the shelves through the tiny gaps at the tops of the books, watching him silently, my heart pounding in my chest. He's much better looking in real life, as in not skating around in uniform, all sweaty and pissed off.

Trying to figure out what he's doing here—I've never seen him in this library before, his impenetrable stare aimed in my direction is impossible to hide from.

Shit.

Shit .

I think he’s here for me.

He strides purposefully toward me, ignoring Patty as she’s still talking to him about whatever he asked her.

Coming to a stop right next to me, cowering behind the stacks, he stands there for a few moments in silence, staring down at me with eyes the color of a forest after a rainstorm.

Staring up at him, as dumbstruck as Patty was but decidedly less inclined to compose myself as she did, he appears unsure about what he wants to say.

He takes another step forward and holds up the book he’s clutching tightly in his left hand.

It’s my book that I dropped last night after my… the incident .

“You dropped this last night,” he says, his voice a sexy growl that totally matches his appearance.

Pressing my lips together, I drop my gaze, finding his way too intense for my liking. “Uhm, thanks,” I mutter.

Hesitantly, I take the book from him. My fingertips accidentally brush against his for a moment.

His exquisite eyes meet mine as his full red lips curve up into what can only be described as a wicked smile.

The air around us crackles with anticipation.

My palms start to sweat, and my heart is doing leapfrog in my chest.

As we stand in the middle of the library, the air cooler in here than the blazing January heat outside, a spark of electricity runs through the space between us until I can practically see flashes ricocheting off our bodies.

Our eyes lock together like magnets, and without warning, something shifts between us, and I feel an unwavering connection deep inside me.

Time slows to a crawl as we study each other's faces until he finally breaks the spell.

“Is it good?” he croaks.

“Huh?” I shove my glasses up my sweaty nose dumbly, wondering what he’s talking about.

“The book.” He taps it gently.

Glancing down at it, I had forgotten all about the paperback in my hands as this peculiar sense of knowing him on a deeper level, twists around my heart, leaving me confused and a little bit flustered. “Oh, uhm, yeah…”

Blinking, I don’t know if I should elaborate. I mean, does he want to know what it’s about?

He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly as he gazes at me in a way that gives me boob sweat and sends my tingly soul into a fit of giggles.

Grasping the book tightly, I prepare for the inevitable eruption of peals of laughter.

But before that can happen, I suddenly gag on my saliva and start hacking.

My free hand frantically waves around in an attempt to ward off the choking sensation while the other clutches onto the book for dear life.

Embarrassed, I blush furiously and turn around abruptly, only to crash into the book cart and send it careening across the aisle, where it slams into the stacks, causing them to teeter and sway precariously.

“Shit!” I croak, lunging forward to stop the avalanche of books from plummeting to the ground.

“Whoa,” Steele says, taking one giant stride towards the stacks and placing a steadying hand on it. “Maybe you should back away.”

Mortified, my gaze shoots to his, but I can see the soft tease in his eyes that stops this from being a grade-A disaster.

“Thanks,” I murmur, looking down again, “and yes, I’m a walking, talking bag of misfortune.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters.

Time stops.

It’s the only way to describe the several seconds where I force myself to meet his gaze again, and I nearly pant when I see the heat in his.

What is this?

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he asks quietly, looking at his shoes.

In that positively annoying way that I have, I also look at his shoes.

His feet are ginormous. This, of course, leads to the inevitable thought that big feet means big cock, and my eyes water at the thought.

Suddenly, my stare is pulled to his cock region, and I’m pretty sure I can see the outline of a bulge through the baggy white shorts.

Stammering like a complete idiot, I glare at him when he ducks down to stare into my face.

“Lucy.”

The way he says my name is pure heaven. “Uhm. Tomorrow cock?”

“What?” His eyes light up.

“What?”

What did I just say?

“Tomorrow cock?”

Nooooooooo.

The wailing in my mind is crushing, and I want to run away, never to be seen or heard from again.

“What?” I stutter, feigning ignorance.

He smirks and lets me off the hook I was wiggling on like a worm. “Are you free tomorrow night ? I could pick you up after training, and we could get a bite to eat?”

Nodding slowly, I try my damndest not to fuck up the next words. “Suuure,” I enunciate slowly. “That would be nice.”

His eyes narrow again at my slow tone, but I force a bright smile on my face, not really sure what the hell is going on right now, but it has something to do with cocks and food.

“Can I get your number, and I’ll text the details later? I’m Steele, by the way.”

Yeah? No shit, Sherlock.

He is copying my slow tone, almost as if he knows he has to handle me with care. I’m a bundle of ridiculousness, and this could only ever happen to me. Realizing how vain that sounds, I feel my cheeks heat up again.

As if she were my Guardian Angel, Patty sidles over with a piece of paper, which she shoves at Steele, her eyes wide and full of an amusement that is dying to burst forth.

“Thanks,” he says to Patty, keeping his gaze on me. “I’ll text later, yeah?”

He seems full of confidence now that he’s gotten his own way and locked down the clumsy librarian who talks about cocks.

Great.

One thing is for sure as I nod empathically, hoping he will go away immediately, is that I won’t be replying to his text later or otherwise.

My heart races as Steele walks away. His tall, wide body and his muscular arms seem to ripple with each powerful stride he takes.

“Wow,” Patty says with a bit of snicker. “Wow. Steele Jonson just asked you out on a date!”

“Is that what happened?” I reply with a quivering laugh that sounds terrible even to my own ears.

“Cripes,” Patty says, shaking her head. “You’ve got it bad. You know he and Jason are like this…” She crosses her fingers tightly.

“So?” I frown as a sudden, horrible thought enters my head. “Do you think he’s playing with me?”

“Who, Steele? Nah, he seems legit. If he were being a douche about the whole thing, he’d have been a lot more, you know, douchey.” She shrugs.

She has a point. He wasn’t douchey at all. He was sweet and a bit sexy. Okay, a lot sexy. But that doesn’t mean anything. It would be just my luck that I agree to this date, and then he stands me up, and that ends up on social media as well for the world to laugh at me some more.

Not a fucking chance in hell.