Page 105 of Oh, Puck!
Someone's watching. Someone knows something.
Maybe we weren't as careful as we thought we were on that damn roadtrip.
The rest of the night drags out for what feels like forever. Colin ropes me into helping run the auction, which apparently means standing next to an easel holding a signed jersey while strangers bid absurd amounts of money.
I sign eleven items, pose for approximately four hundred photos, and somehow end up in a bidding war between two grandmothers over a puck I absolutely do not need.
By the time Colin releases me from duty, my face hurts from smiling and I've lost track of Josie twice.
Luckily, I find her again near the balcony doors an hour later, with the party finally thinning, and the noise dropping enough that we can actually hear each other.
"There you are," I say, stepping out into the cool breeze.
She's at least found a nice spot that's tucked away from the main room and looks out over the beach. But when I step closer, I see she's got that look on her face. The one that means her brain's running twenty different tabs at once.
"You're thinking about the Portland game again, aren't you," I say, leaning against the railing beside her.
She glances up, caught. "How do you always know what I'm thinking?"
"Your eyes go all weird and shiny. Kind of like that fish they served tonight."
She blinks at me, then lets out a laugh that's half-offended, half-amused. "Did you just compare my eyes to a dead fish?"
"Don't worry. You're a very attractive fish," I say, because apparently my mouth has decided to keep digging this hole deeper. "Or, maybe it's a look like you're plotting world domination. Through ticket sales. Is that better?"
She laughs, and I think I'm off the hook.
"Funnily, it's exactly that. I'm standing in a room like this, with money everywhere and people actually excited about this franchise… and it's making me giddy with ideas. This is what it could feel like, Declan. Every night. If we do this right."
"You get turned on by spreadsheets. I've suspected this for a while."
"I get turned on bypotential, Declan. There's a difference." She bites her lip, and I watch the shift happen right in front of me, the flush climbing her throat. "Although, for the record, you're not wrong that excitement does... things to me."
"Things," I repeat, stepping closer, hidden by the shadow of the doorway. "Like what kind of things?"
Another new hire close to the team.
"Like, hypothetically," she says, voice dropping as she slides closer, "if you slid your hand a little lower right now, you'd find out exactly how wet a sports-loving woman gets thinking about sold-out arenas."
Christ.My whole body goes tight, and suddenly that warning alarm that blasted in my head doesn't sound so dangerous.
"Josie."
"What? You started it."
"I did not start comparing hockey attendance to your panties."
"You implied it." Her eyes are dancing now, all mischief and heat. "I just followed the logic."
I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in.
"I need you to know," I murmur, "that the second we're alone tonight, I am absolutely testing that theory."
"Good." She pulls back, but the playfulness then settles into a more serious look. "Declan, I've been thinking about something else too."
"About how much you like sucking my—"
She cuts me off with a sharp glare. "Something bigger."
