COHEN

I can’t shake the frustration streaking through my bones. I scored the winning goal and somehow, I’m still pissed, even now as I take my skates off in the locker room. I should be social, but I’m not feeling like talking to anyone.

“Good game,” Coach tells me. “But I don’t know what bug crawled up your ass and died tonight. Go out the back door and don’t talk to the media, hear me? I don’t know what shit you’d say tonight.”

I grunt, and he leaves me alone. It’s as close to a truce as we’ll get. After my trade from the LA Lightening, we’re still getting used to one another. It hasn’t been easy.

The guys here are good guys for the most part, but my reputation precedes me. As it turns out, Hollywood provides plenty of opportunities to get into trouble, and I’m pretty sure I found them all.

I shower, dress, and head through the backdoor. The team’s going out to celebrate at a line of bars nearby, and I’ll join them later. I’ve got a friend in town, and we’re going to grab a drink first and catch up.

“Hey,” I say, grinning once I see Chelsea. She’s in a flashy red Miata, a cute car that fits her. Completely impractical for the Minnesota winters, but she won’t care. She’s not about practicality. “Great to see you, Chels.”

She unlocks the doors and rolls down the window. “I hear you scored, sorry I missed it. Flight landed not that long ago.”

“Yeah right—you just didn’t want to come watch the game.”

“Yeah, actually you are right. I landed hours ago, and I would’ve preferred to sit around bored rather than come watch you play.” She rolls her eyes. “Are you hopping in or what?”

Chelsea and I almost slept together once—nearly a decade ago, now. We’d never made it all the way, though, because once we’d started making out, we’d mutually decided there wasn’t a connection. We’d ended up popping some popcorn, watching a movie, and heading home early from the date.

At this point, we’re like siblings. She’s even gone and gotten herself engaged. In fact, she met her husband-to-be at a party in my LA condo when she was visiting. Now, they’re both living out there and about to get married. She’s back for a family visit this weekend with her fiancé, and the three of us are grabbing drinks before I meet my teammates later.

I’m about to throw my stuff in the trunk and slide into the passenger’s seat, but something gives me pause. I’m not even sure what it is until I look up and find a set of eyes staring back at me.

“Annie?”

I squint. It’s her—but I can’t figure out what she’s doing here. Last night, she was pretty clear about her feelings toward me when she sent me home. I’m not usually one to throw myself pity parties, but all at once, I realize why I’ve been pissed all day.

She’s frigging confusing, and I’m on edge not knowing what’s going through that brain of hers. Does she like me? Hate me? Just when I’ve started to swallow the bitter pill of rejection from yesterday, she shows up out of the blue at my game. No wonder today’s been a roller coaster.

To make things worse, she’s standing a good ten feet away, hands in front of her body, these huge puppy dog eyes that have me wanting to wrap her in my arms. For a second, I can’t even remember why things are weird between us. I throw my bags in the trunk, still processing.

“Are you going to go talk to her, or are you planning to stand there all night with your thumb up your ass?” Chelsea calls from inside the car. “I’ll wait here—I’ve gotta see this.”

“Shut it, please.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been speechless over a chick, my friend.”

“She’s not a chick.”

“Then move.”

I walk toward Annie, though it’s not a logical decision. My feet drag me toward her before I can think about what I’m doing. Then I’m there, standing before her, and we’re making some inane conversation about why she’s here tonight.

Finally, I can’t stand it any longer. I need some answers. “Honestly, why did you come here tonight, Annie?”

She inhales a rattling breath, and finally, she begins to speak in a clear voice. “I didn’t mean what I said last night, and I’m here to apologize.”

“Accepted.” I don’t mean to be short, but if she really has no interest in me, I should leave things alone. I don’t want to make things worse by having her think I can’t move on from rejection. “Anything else?”

“Do you still want to take me on a date?”

Her question surprises me, and I blink a few times first. “Yeah, Annie. I didn’t change my mind overnight.”

“If you’re free this week...” She stops talking mid-sentence, a sudden realization dawning on her face. “Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that you’re here with someone.”

I glance back at Chelsea. “That’s just a friend—I promise. She’s in town for the weekend, and I’m meeting her and her fiancé for drinks before I meet the team to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” A smile blooms on her face as she realizes what I mean. “That’s right! Nice goal.”

“I didn’t know you enjoyed hockey.”

“I don’t.” She grins, a laugh bubbling up and spilling over like sunshine. “But Leigh’s kid does, and he explained everything to me.”

“So you came just for me?” I take a step closer, my hands itching to touch her, hold her close, show her the words I can’t seem to say.

“No.”

“No?”

“I came for the popcorn.”

I close the gap, pull her to me. My hands find the sides of her face, her cheeks chilled from the night air. She’s wearing the hood of her coat pulled up, her chestnut hair spiraling beside her face as my hands twirl through it.

Her lips reach for mine, and that’s the only permission I need. Her hood slides from her head as our lips connect, a ring of fire lining the place where we’ve made contact. It’s soft at first, exploratory, and then her lips part and she emits the tiniest of moans.

I press against her, more needy than I’d ever expected, and she melts into my arms. Annie might’ve fought off a first date harder than any girl I’ve ever met in my life, but the payoff is worth it ten times over—even if this is the only kiss I’ll ever get from her. I’d do it all over again—the volunteering, the serenading, the talking to Gran—because this is the most intensity I’ve ever experienced from a kiss.

By now, we’re in full-on make out mode, and my hands are slipping down her back, sliding over the curves I’ve forced myself to stay away from over the last couple weeks.

She’s even softer than I imagined, and she fits snugly into my hands. If only she wasn’t wearing a stupid sweater and jeans, and if only we weren’t in the stupid tundra of the north where we’ll freeze at the first sight of exposed skin, I would have stripped her bare and touched every inch of her. If, of course, we weren’t in public.

“Wow,” she breathes, breaking the kiss before I open my eyes. “Did you like that?”

I wasn’t ready to be done. “Like it?” My voice escapes in a husky tone that I barely recognize as my own. “Babe, I’m ready to call a cab and take you home.”

Immediately, I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but her cheeks merely flush pink, tickled by the winter breeze, and she gives a shy sort of laugh.

“I’m not ready for that,” she says. “But I might be interested in accepting that date.”

“A date sounds nice. How about I pick you up tomorrow at noon?”

“Noon?”

“I was going to take you out to dinner, but I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

“I have class until one.”

“Skip it.”

“One hour!” She rests a hand on my chest and walks her fingers up to my chin. “You can wait an extra hour, can’t you?”

I groan, clasping her wrist in my hand. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this. I can’t wait an extra hour.”

“Try.”

“Fine.”

“Who knows?” She gives a flirty shrug of her shoulder, and I wonder where this side of Annie has been all along. “Maybe it’ll be worth it.”

“Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

Her eyes widen as she realizes what she’s said. “I didn’t mean... I’m not sleeping with you tomorrow, Cohen. It’s our first date—it’s innocent.”

“How innocent?” My pants are suddenly too tight, and it’s difficult not to feel disappointed. I hadn’t expected to sleep with her right away, but damn if she hadn’t gotten all kinds of thoughts circling through my mind.

“Kissing only,” she says. “That’s as far as I go on a first date.”

“Master of the tease.”

“I just want to get to know you,” she says, her eyes clouding. “I don’t... I don’t want—”

“I’m sorry, Annie. I’m just teasing. We go at your pace. I’ve worked hard enough to get you on a date, I’m not going to ruin it by trying to move things along too fast.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“Careful, I’m not known to be sweet. If that gets out, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

She’s smiling, and I can’t help but grin back. I scored the winning goal in a nail biter of a game, and somehow, it’s not the highlight of my night. I have a date tomorrow with Annie. She’s already shot down the idea of us hooking up, and somehow, I’m still in the best mood ever. I hardly know who I am anymore.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she says. “Do I need to plan anything?”

“I’ll take care of it all,” I tell her, already wracking my brain for things Annie might like. I’ll bet Chelsea will have some insights, and that thought reminds me the Miata’s still waiting. “Well, I’m heading down to the Lion’s Tavern next, and we usually end up at the Lucky Pig by midnight, if you care to join.”

“Oh, well...” She hesitates, and her eyes flick ever so briefly toward the car behind me. “No, that’s okay. I have class in the morning.”

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” I lean in to kiss her forehead. “Can I walk you to your car?”

She gestures behind me. “I’m right there. Don’t keep your friend waiting.”

With a kiss on my cheek, she’s gone.

I walk back to the car, barely noticing the stares from several of my teammates.

“Watch your head,” Chelsea says when I reach the car door. “You’re floating so damn high you’ll clock your noggin on the way in here.”

“Floating?”

“Who’s the girl, and why didn’t you invite her out with us?”

“I did. Said she has an early morning.”

“What did you say to her about coming out tonight?” Chelsea pins me against the window with her eyes. “What did you say exactly?”

“Uh, I told her that I was meeting with a friend and that she could join us if she wanted.”

“You idiot.”

“What?”

“Idiot,” she says, pulling away from the curb and shaking her head. “Every girl knows that means you don’t want her to come. You have to tell her that you want her there specifically.”

“I thought I did.”

“No, what you said means: hey, if you feel like third-wheeling, I guess you can hang around with us.”

“Those aren’t the words I said.”

“Those are the words she heard.”

I swivel around in the car, but she’s already gone. “What should I do?”

“We have to meet Rich at the bar, so that’s where we’re headed. Call her if you want her to come—I’d love to meet her.”

It takes a few minutes for me to nut up and dial Annie’s number. By the time I do, we’ve parked and are walking through the front door. The bar is close by the rink, and Annie can’t be more than five minutes away.

I push through the main entryway, hold the second set of doors open for Chelsea, and hit dial. It rings as I make my way toward my usual seat. During the season, I’m a regular around here. It’s close to the rink, and the combination of good food, cheap drinks, and friendly faces make it a pleasant place to de-stress after a loss or celebrate after a win.

When I glance toward my chair, however, I’m in for a surprise.

There, in my seat, sits a familiar face.

Annie.