Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

His frame fills the doorway. He’s a foot taller than me, and even under his long-sleeved workout shirt, his body is perfection. The thin fabric stretches over his broad shoulders. I’m vaguely aware of a dog barking and racing around the apartment behind him, but my gaze follows his movement as he props a hand on the doorframe. His sleeves are pushed up, and my gaze lingers on his forearm. Jamie Streicher’s forearms could get a woman pregnant.

Pippa Hartley is standing in my living room, playing with the dog, and I can’t breathe. When I opened the door, I thought I was hallucinating. Her hair is longer. Same shy smile, same sparkling blue-gray eyes that make me forget my own name. Same soft, musical voice that I’d strain to hear back in high school while she was talking and laughing with the other band kids.

I can’t fucking think around Pippa Hartley. It’s always been like this.

There’s no way I can tell her the truth—that she’s the girl I was obsessed with for two years in high school.

“Andrew.” He says the word like it tastes bad. I meet his piercing gaze, blinking in confusion. “Yeah. He’s young. Probably my age. He’s a personal trainer.” Jamie’s gaze turns cold before he prowls to the door. “I’m coming with you.”

“That guy was never good enough for you. Not in high school and not now. I hope you fucking see that.”

“I thought you were gorgeous, too,” he murmurs, looking at me in a way that makes me feel like I can’t breathe. “Even back then.”

Footsteps make my eyes open. Jamie stalks toward me with a furious look on his face. “Wha—” I start. His eyes flash with heat. “That was fucking amazing.” His hand comes to the back of my neck and he drags my mouth to his.

“I’m your goalie,” he says. “I’ll block all your shots tonight.” A chuckle escapes me, and I smile at him. The corner of his mouth ticks up, and his eyes fill with affection. For a split second, I wish he’d kiss me again.

“I have feelings for you, songbird.” My heart pounds, and the rest of the bar falls away. “I like you so fucking much. I don’t want to pretend I don’t anymore. I flew out here for you.”