Page 2 of Three Hockey Hotties

She shakes her head. “Yes, I know. I’m one of the organizers. We're supposed to meet here today to check out the arena and figure out how we’re going to set everything up for the actual event.”

Now she looks even more distressed than she was when I almost broke her nose.

Instinctively, I draw her closer, needing to comfort her. “Got it,” I tell her. “It’s a great event. And you’re fine coming in this door. We’re pretty informal around here.”

If she was at the arena for our professional team, the Racketeers, down in Chicago, it would be a different thing, of course. But, while we’re in the top three of our league, and our fans are super enthusiastic, we don’t have the same security concerns the pros do.

I notice that she does not try to pull away from me, and I like that probably more than I should. I’m a total stranger to her and part of me wants to lecture her about being too friendly with strange men.

But I get the impression she wouldn’t let just anyone get this close.

She blinks up at me, and I think these eyes are going to get her anything she wants from me forever.

And that’s just a part of her stunning beauty. She’s the type of woman that walks into a room and everyone notices her. But…I don’t think she notices them noticing her.

I don’t know why I have that impression, but she just exudes sweetness and girl-next-door vibes. She’s dressed in a loose pink sweater that buttons up the front. It’s paired with flowy pink striped linen pants and pink sneakers. She’s got simple thin gold bangle bracelets on one wrist, a gold watch on the other, and she’s carrying a water bottle that matches all the pink perfectly.

She’s barely got any makeup on. Maybe some lip gloss making her lush pink lips shine. And she smells like strawberries.

She reminds me of pink candy—maybe a strawberry lollipop that needs sucking and licking from head to toe—and I definitely want a taste.

I just know she’ll be so damn sweet.

And pink everywhere…

Her long wavy, dark blonde hair falls to the curve of her lower back and is streaked with lighter blonde and a few brown strands. I want to sit and study it, counting the different colors. I also want to run my fingers through it. And wrap it around my fist and tip her head back so I can run my nose up her throat and breathe in her sweet scent before settling my lips against her mouth that’s parted right now as she breathes quickly.

I take a breath and work on easing what is probably an intense expression. I don’t do intense. I am well known to be happy-go-lucky, the life of the party.

I am the face of the team, the player that fans and followers most often see on the team’s social media accounts, and the billboards around town. I also take center ice whenever we do something with kids and yes, charity events.

What can I say? I love the spotlight, and it loves me.

I also have a great smile, thank you very fucking much.

“It’s okay,” she says, her voice a little breathless now. “My event team will be here soon. We’re supposed to meet outside on the west side.”

I like that too. I want to hear her breathless again and again.

“Well, this is the east side,” I tell her with a smile.

Her eyes widen. “What?” She looks around. Then groans. “Dammit.” She shakes her head. “I guess that explains why they’re not here. I’ll just…go to the other side,” she says, waving in the general direction of the parking lot.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” I tell her, giving her a little grin. “You can get to the east side of the building by going through the building too.”

“But I’m probably not supposed to be in here without my team,” she says.

“Oh, you’ve got something better,” I tell her, tugging her even closer. She takes the step without hesitation. Yeah, I fucking like that. “You’ve got me.”

Her cheeks get a little pink and I love it.

Her general aura is sweet, and that blush tells me that she’s not a sassy flirt.

“Well, that’s very nice of you,” she says. “But I don’t want to bother you. You were obviously leaving.”

I don’t know much, including her name, but in that moment, I know absolutely without question that I cannot let this girl go. Not yet. Maybe not at all.

That is, I’ll admit, a strange thought to have about someone I met less than five minutes ago, but it is strong and clear in my head as I look at her.