Page 14

14

Piper

I should be steering this conversation toward my goal—getting him to like me, to trust me—but instead, I’m stuck wondering how those lips would feel if I dragged my teeth along them.

Every now and then, our hands brush—reaching for a glass, a fork, the breadbasket—and each time, a tiny jolt of electricity zips down my spine.

And the worst part? My body reacts.

The food is perfect. So is the company—even when I hate to admit it. And by the time my plate’s half-empty, I’ve stopped pretending I’m not enjoying myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed this much on a date. Maybe ever.

I shift in my seat, painfully aware of the heat pooling low in my stomach. I’m supposed to be the one playing him, but my thighs clench at the way his fingers graze mine, and I find myself squeezing them together, trying to get a grip.

His gaze flicks to me, almost like he knows .

Focus, Piper.

I straighten, clearing my throat. “So, tell me, Ice Boy. What’s life like when you’re not working on your playbook?”

His smirk doesn’t waver. “Playbook?”

I gesture vaguely. “The whole act. The charm, the confidence, the way you make women feel like they’re the only one in the room.”

He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Who says it’s an act?”

I scoff. “Oh, please. You’re telling me you don’t have a strategy?”

He studies me for a moment, then says, “I don’t waste time on things that don’t interest me.”

His tone is so direct, so serious , that my stomach does something annoying and fluttery.

I push my plate away slightly, needing a new topic before I lose whatever hold I have left on this situation. “Tell me something real, Jake. Not the golden-boy, small-town hockey hero version. Something most people don’t know.”

He tilts his head slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. Then, finally, he says, “I used to be terrified of thunderstorms as a kid.”

I blink. Not what I expected. “Thunderstorms?”

He nods. “Violet loves them, though. She stands at the window and counts the seconds between lightning and thunder. She says it makes her feel small in a good way.”

My throat tightens. Damn it. That was… unexpectedly sweet.

I pick up my wine glass, needing something to hold onto. “She sounds like a pretty incredible kid.”

He nods, a soft smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “She is.”

A weird, guilty twist coils in my gut. This whole thing started as a stupid dare, but sitting across from him now, I feel like I’ve stepped into something I wasn’t ready for.

And I hate that it’s working on me.

By dessert, something shifts. The tension isn’t gone—it’s just different. Looser. His smile turns real. I stop pretending I’m immune.

“So,” I say as I swirl the last sip of wine. “Be honest. You made the host call me ‘Mrs. Reed’ to mess with me, didn’t you?”

He grins. “Nah. That was all respect. You bid like a boss, Piper. Figured you should be treated like one.”

I snort. “Smooth.”

“Strategically encouraged?” he reminds me.

I shake my head, trying not to smile. “You really are trouble, Ice.”

He leans in, voice low. “You have no idea.”

My phone vibrates in my clutch. I ignore it at first, but when it buzzes three more times in quick succession, I frown. "Sorry," I mutter, fishing it out. "It might be work."

Three notifications from my blog dashboard: Breaking hockey news - comment needed ASAP. Trending topic alert. Draft due by midnight.

Jake watches me, his expression curious. "Everything okay?"

I switch the phone to silent and slip it back into my clutch. "Just my boss being needy. Nothing that can't wait." The lie tastes bitter, but I push it away. Tonight isn't about Penelope Darling.

"You sure?" he asks, and I see genuine concern there.

"Positive," I say, more firmly than necessary.

The night ends too soon, the air between us thick as he walks me to my car. The temperature has dropped, but my skin is still overheated.

Jake stops just short of stepping into my space. “So?” he says, voice teasing. “Was I worth the price tag?”

Oh, baby, had I known, I would have paid twice. Well, not really—because I don’t make that kind of money. But I did have the time of my life.

I roll my eyes. “Barely.”

His grin is slow, knowing. “Liar.”

For a split second, I wonder if this is all calculated—if he's this smooth with every woman, if he's playing me the way he plays the ice: with precision and strategy. There's something almost too perfect about how he's handling this date, like he knew exactly what buttons to push. But then his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, and I catch a glimpse of something genuine that makes me doubt my cynicism.

I stand here, my heart pounding in my chest, as Jake’s eyes lock onto mine. There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes my breath hitch, a silent promise of something I’m not sure I’m ready for. The air between us crackles with tension, thick and heavy, like the moment before a storm breaks. I can feel the weight of his stare, warm and insistent, as if he’s trying to peel back the layers of my soul with just a look. My pulse quickens, a flutter in my chest that mirrors the nervous excitement in my veins.

“Piper,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. It’s a sound that sends shivers down my spine, a whisper that feels more like a touch. I swallow hard, my throat dry, and take a tentative step closer. The space between us narrows, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that contrasts with the cool air around us. His scent reaches me—a mix of soap and something uniquely him—and it’s enough to make my knees weak.

“Yeah?” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. My lips feel suddenly dry, and I press them together, a nervous habit I can’t seem to shake. His eyes flicker down to my mouth, and I wonder if he notices the way my breath quickens, the way my body seems to lean toward him of its own accord. There’s a hunger in his gaze, subtle but undeniable, and it makes my stomach twist with anticipation.

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us completely. My heart stutters, then races, as his hand reaches out, slow and deliberate, like he’s afraid I might bolt. His fingers brush my cheek, a feather-light touch that sends a jolt of electricity through me. I close my eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the warmth of his skin against mine. It’s a touch that’s both gentle and commanding, a promise of more to come.

“You really are something else, you know that?,” he says, his breath ghosting over my lips. My eyes flutter open, and I’m met with the sight of him, so close I can see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. His words send a flush creeping up my neck, warming my cheeks, and I bite my lip to stifle a nervous laugh. Was that a compliment? I don’t know how to respond.

Before I can say anything, his lips are on mine. It’s a kiss that starts slow, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. His mouth is warm and soft, his lips pressing gently against mine. I melt into him, my hands coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. It’s a kiss that’s both innocent and intoxicating, a brush of lips that ignites a fire in my veins.

But then he deepens it, his lips parting slightly, urging mine to do the same. My breath catches as his tongue grazes mine, a fleeting touch that sends a rush of heat spiraling through me. I moan softly, a sound I can’t hold back, and his hand slides down to my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel the hardness of his body against mine, the solid warmth of him, and it’s both comforting and exhilarating.

His other hand tangles in my hair, his fingers threading through the strands, holding me in place. I don’t want to pull away. I want this—I want him. His kiss is a slow burn, a dance of lips and tongues that leaves me breathless. It’s not rushed, not desperate, but deliberate, like he’s savoring every moment, every touch.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. His taste is addictive, a mix of mint and something else I can’t define, and I find myself craving more. His lips move against mine with a rhythm that’s both soothing and arousing, a tempo that matches the pounding of my heart. I can feel his body respond to mine, his muscles tensing, his breath growing heavier, and it only fuels the fire burning within me.

His hands move, gliding down my back, tracing the curve of my spine. I shiver at the touch, my skin tingling wherever he touches me. His fingers brush the hem of my shirt, and I hold my breath, my body aching for more. But he stops, his hands hovering just above my skin, teasing me with the promise of what could be. My heart sinks a little, a mix of disappointment and anticipation warring within me.

“Jake,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, pleading. I don’t know what I’m asking for, but I know I want more. His lips leave mine, trailing kisses along my jawline, down to the hollow of my throat. I tilt my head back, exposing more skin, and he takes the invitation, his lips pressing softly against my pulse point. I can feel his smile against my skin, a smug, satisfied curve of his lips that makes me want to both laugh and groan in frustration.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. His hands move back up, cupping my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. I open my eyes, meeting his gaze, and see the mischief in his eyes, the unspoken challenge. He’s teasing me, I realize, playing with me like a cat with a mouse. And yet, I can’t bring myself to be upset. There’s something intoxicating about the way he’s drawing this out, the way he’s making me want him more with every passing second.

His lips find mine again, a soft, lingering kiss that’s both a promise and a goodbye. I sigh into the kiss, my body leaning into his, craving the connection. But then he pulls away, his hands sliding down my arms, breaking the contact between us. I blink, dazed, my lips still tingling from his touch. He steps back, a small smile playing on his lips, and I feel a pang of loss, like something precious has been taken from me.

When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless. He smirks, fingers still grazing my waist. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

Then he walks away, leaving me to stare after him, completely wrecked.