Page 9 of Puck Me Twice

Her eyebrows go up.

“Do you think he’ll suddenly start telling everyone?”

Vanessa bites her lip. Her mouth is painted in a soft mauve lip stain, and it makes me want to pull her bottom lip into mine.

As a general rule, I don’t like kissing… but I did enjoy kissing her that night all those years ago.

Everything with her has always been antithetical to my rules.

I shrug. “I mean, if he does, we just… pretend?”

Her eyes go big. “You’d do that?”

“It’s not that big a deal,” I deflect.

When she joined the team a few seasons ago, I was in a relationship. It didn’t last much longer.

But by the time I was single, she had made clear to the team that she didn’t fool around with players. And not because it’s against the rules. It sounded like it was her personal edict. Something she just solidified.

Who am I to try to convince her to abandon her morals?

“Sven…”

The sound of my name on her lips makes me shiver. My cock reacts, constrained by the cup I’m wearing under my gear. It’s not a comfortable experience.

“I respect your boundaries. It’s just pretend. I don’t have to like it, but it means I can’t ask you out, so⁠—”

I stop, pressing my lips together. I did not mean to say that. Fuck.

She frowns. “You want to ask me out?”

“You don’t go out with hockey players,” I remind her. “I’m a hockey player. That means I can’t ask you out.”

Vanessa stares at me. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You just—you accept it at face value.”

“It’s a boundary. It’s black and white. A line in the sand.”

She shakes her head. “You’re something different.”

But she doesn’t sound like she means different is bad. Just that different is new.

I decide I like that.

“So what does this mean?” I ask.

“Will you pretend to be my fake boyfriend? Just to get Robby off my back?”

“Yes.” I’ll do pretty much anything she asks. Pretend to do the thing I apparently already want? Yeah, I don’t see the downside here.

“Thanks. I owe you.” She shoots me a quick smile, and I reach for her hand. She flinches. “I thought you don’t like physical touch.”

“I don’t.” I lace our fingers together. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help you out with this.”

Touching her doesn’t make me feel itchy. Yeah, my heart is pounding, though it’s with adrenaline instead of overstimulation. It’s not an unpleasant sensation. In fact… I might be able to get used to this.