Page 189 of Playing the Pucking Game

It’ll be fine.

It’s not like he’s going to come barreling in here telling everyone who will listen how he slept in my bed last night because I was crying like a baby.

Grabbing my iPad, I sit at the small desk and attempt to write some notes into Kodie’s file, but I soon discover that I have the attention span of a gnat. And it’ll remain the same until I see him.

Before me, the screen goes blank, and my mind drifts back to all the things Kodie said.

Is he right?

Does Linc actually like me?

Something akin to hope flutters in my stomach as I think back over our time together recently, and before long, I drift even further back.

He sure said and did all the right things that night to make me believe he thought of me as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

I remember the way he touched me. The soft words he whispered in my ear.

My cheeks burn all over again.

It doesn’t matter how much time has passed; the memory still affects me as if it happened yesterday.

I hear them long before I see them. Their deep voices and laughter echo down the hallway that houses both my training room and office, and their locker room.

My stomach knots as my eyes lock on the door.

The sound of their skate guards on the concrete floor acts like a countdown to them approaching the door, and by the time I spot a shadow, my hands are trembling.

As predicted, Linc leads the group, and the second he appears in the doorway, his eyes scan the room.

Disappointment floods me that I wasn’t his first thought, but that’s all forgotten when he finds me.

His eyes darken, and his lips pull up into a smirk as he holds my gaze.

“I’m gonna shower, then I’m all yours, Donnelly,” he says, his voice a deep rasp that hits me in places it shouldn’t.

“What gives you first dibs on her?” Killer complains behind him.

“Roommates’ rights,” he states before marching off.

The others linger, looking between the two of us before they eventually follow him to clean up.

The minutes seem to turn into hours as the room remains quiet. It’s unusual, and I can’t decide if it’s a welcome silence ornot. At least if there were some guys in here stretching or even complaining from the ice bath, I’d have a distraction.

But eventually, heavy footsteps draw closer, and suddenly those long minutes seem like no time at all, because he’s standing in my doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts, his T-shirt thrown over his arm and his chest still dotted with water droplets from his shower.

“Were you in a rush to get in here or something?” I muse as I push to my feet.

“Babe, you have no idea.”

49

PARKER

Storm: I’ve got a date tonight as well

The second I read his message, my heart drops into my stomach.

Linc. On a date.