Page 57 of Pucking Sweet

“They haven’t left,” he replies. “They’re down at the other end of the bar paying their tab.”

I lean forward and peer down the length of the bar. Kyle is standing at the end between two of his banker friends. He’s giving me a heated look, one part angry, two parts yearning. He raises a brow, gesturing with a nod toward the door as if to say, “Still wanna meet me outside?”

Behind me, Lukas literally growls like an angry bear. He saw it too. Dead Kyle dares to toss me a wink.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Swiveling around on my stool, I grab Lukas by the shirt and pull him closer, my mouth near his ear. “Do me a favor and pretend we’re kissing or something. This guy is just not getting the memo.”

Lukas pulls away, searching my eyes for a split second before he cups my face and kisses the heck out of me. His mouth presses to mine, and I feel the warmth of his tongue. I taste the hoppy notes of beer on his lips. He unleashes himself, pressing me back against the bar, his fingers tangling in my hair.

I fight to hold back a moan as my knees part, giving him room to step in closer. I’m still just holding to the front of his shirt, helpless to do anything else as he kisses me. His fingers dig in at my nape, giving my hair a little tug that has me letting off a soft moan.

Just as soon as it starts, he’s cursing against my lips and pulling back, leaving me swaying on the stool.

“Well, that was pornographic.”

I glance over my shoulder to see Tina standing there, her pierced dimples on display as she grins at me. Untangling myself from Lukas, I swivel back around. “Is he gone?”

“Who? Dancer Boy?” She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he and his friends just left. Gave me a shitty tip too.” She turns her attention to Lukas. “Hi there.” She leans across the bar, offering her hand. “Tina Renoux, Poppy’s best friend and shoulder devil.”

He laughs. “Shoulder devil, huh? I’m Lukas Novikov, Poppy’s regular devil.” He leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, and they shake hands in a swirl of colorfully tattooed forearms. His are all in the Neo-traditional style, clearly planned out to cover and flow. Tina’s arm is a hot mess of styles, evidence of her long hours spent in a tattoo shop letting various friends and lovers practice on her blank canvas.

“So, are you the new candidate?” she says, flashing me a wink.

“Candidate?”

“No,” I shout over him, patting his arm—which is still around me, by the way. “Nope. Tina, he’s my, well, Lukas is my ... player.” What am I supposed to call the man who just had me seeing stars with his tongue in my mouth? My work associate?

“Hey, you’re a Ray,” she says with an appreciative nod. “Forward or D-man? You’re too cocky to be a goalie. All the goalies I’ve known are total adorable weirdos.”

Lukas laughs again. I feel it against my back because that’s how dang close he’s standing to me. “I’m a defenseman. Best damn defenseman in the League.”

“Well, that tracks.” She flashes me another excited grin.

I give her a look like I’m gonna murder her and her cockatiel, Sammy. She totally ignores it. “We actually just came by to grab my purse,” I shout. “We’re going back to our hotel.” The span of two seconds pass as Tina turns away to get my clutch before I’m all but throwing myself over the bar to add, “To sleep—andnottogether!”

Tina comes back with my clutch, still grinning like a little pink-haired witch.

“We’re going back to the hotel together because we’re both staying there,” I explain. “But he has a room, and I have a room, and we’ll each be going to those separate rooms to sleep.”

“Yeah, I think she’s got it, Pop,” Lukas teases. “I bet your friend knows how grocery stores work too.”

“Actually, I do,” Tina says.

Aaaand now they’re both conspiring against me. Time to go before they make up a secret handshake. I slip off my stool. “Well, this has been fun. Let’s do it again never, okay?”

She cackles, offering my clutch. I reach to take it, but she holds on, giving it a pull until I’m practically folded over the bar. “He’s perfect,” she whisper-shouts. “Have a great night. I slipped a mint and two condoms into your purse.”

“I hate you,” I hiss.

“Go get some.” She blows me an air kiss and lets go of the clutch, sauntering off to help more customers.

I right myself, cheeks burning, and turn to face Lukas. “Should we maybe find some of the others? Save money on an Uber?”

“I’m an NHL superstar, remember? I can afford an Uber.” Slipping his arm around my waist, he leads me toward the front door. “The others will all find their way back when they’re ready.”

I know he’s right. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough to ride in a cab with him alone. Not when I have the taste of his kiss on my lips. This has been a topsy-turvy kind of day, and all my careful shields are down right now. I can’t even blame the alcohol. That’s been wearing off for hours. No, I think I’m just too tired and emotionally spent to keep holding them up.

I want someone to see me. Not the Poppy I carefully curate all the time. Not the clothes and the accent and the curls. Not the business savvy and the constant, clever strategizing. I want to feel like someone could seeme. Just Poppy.