Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

I’m like a house they just got a deal on, and if they decide to buy something better, they’ll sell me.

Jamie Streicher’s forearms could get a woman pregnant.

thicc.

If I’ve learned one thing from my ex, Zach, and his crew, it’s that gorgeous, famous people are allowed to be complete assholes. The world lets them get away with it.

hmm

She’s full of goofy, wild energy, doing these little tippy-taps with her paws on the floor as her tail wags so hard it might fall off. Her butt wiggles in the cutest way as I scratch the spot above her tail.

TIPPY-TAPS ARE THE BEST ^u^

He’s so bossy. A shiver rolls over me, and my skin tingles. I bet he’s bossy in bed, too.

He grunts. That’s probably his version of crying tears of joy.

LMAO

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.

TEHEHE

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

“He won’t call the police.” I picture him physically removing me from his home, throwing me over his shoulder. A weird twinge hits me between the legs. Oh. I like that idea.

oh girl…

This woman could talk a cop into handing over his gun. All she’d have to do is smile and flick her ponytail, and he’d be like, you want the bullets, too?

she's just that bitch!

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.

Even though she looks like a drowned rat, her eyes still sparkle. Her cheeks are flushed, so full of life and vibrancy, and my chest feels weird, like I have heartburn.

heartburn, sure.

“Herpes,” I say in a commercial voice, like I’m selling spa packages. “Meditate it away!”

catchy slogan

“Move in with me.” We stare at each other. I don’t know where the fuck that came from. I’m not supposed to be spending more time with her; I’m supposed to be avoiding her.

Every time I smile, his mouth twitches. That realization makes my stomach warm and liquid, and I smile wider at him.

That girl I used to be is still in there. I just have to find a way to get her out.

<3

My gaze slides over to his hands on the steering wheel as we exit the parkade. He has big hands.

big hands = ???

I notice how good a driver he is—confident but cautious. Like he doesn’t have anything to prove.

confidence is hot

He’s totally out of my league, and I’ve been burned by guys on his level before. I shouldn’t want to fuck Jamie, but I really, really do.

I really, really want to fuck my pretty assistant.

Is it appropriate for me to be standing in front of her in my underwear? Probably not. Do I care? I watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, tracing my abs with her gaze. No. No, I do not.

Her brow rises. “Songbird?” I didn’t mean to call her that—it just slipped out. It’s perfect for her, though.

And the fact that he remembers me is making my heart do Daisy’s excited tippy-taps against the front wall of my chest.

“Jamie. Come on. You were on your way to the NHL. You were one of the popular kids. All the girls swooned over you. You were gorgeous, even back then—”

“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.

“This isn’t a good idea.” I meet his gaze, and he studies me, looking torn. “You’re my assistant,” he says.

“I’m your goalie,” he says. “I’ll block all your shots tonight.”

I wilt out of pure horniness. Jamie Streicher is going to kill me tonight.

My mouth curves into a smile, and I don’t even recognize myself right now. “The ultimate revenge would be fucking you.”

I’m so fucking gone for this girl.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, songbird,” I tell her, leaning my forearm on the wall above her head. “Or what?” she breathes. “Or I’m going to lose my mind.” I say it like it hasn’t already happened.

Jamie bossing me around makes me feel untethered and completely unlike myself, and I don’t mind one bit.

I have a very breakable heart and a big crush on him.

He’s kind, and he would never hurt someone on purpose, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me without meaning to.

Pippa Hartley has no fucking clue how gorgeous she is.

It’s not fair that he’s so hot. It’s not fair that I have to see him every day.

I’d do it forever if it wouldn’t break my heart.

I pull the navy and white jersey out of the box, turning it to read the back. STREICHER is stitched in bold white lettering, and my body hums with something pleased, proud, and possessive.

I can’t tell him the truth—that wearing his jersey, having his name on me, makes me feel like we’re so much more than we are, and that I love it.

There it is, but instead of in the front window of the guitar store, it’s sitting on the table. It’s so beautiful, but it’s more than that. This guitar is something I thought I couldn’t have, and yet, here it is.

“Pippa.” His voice is firm, leaving no wiggle room. “I’d buy you every guitar in the city if I thought you’d let me.”

“You wrote an album,” he says softly. My chest is bursting with pressure and giddiness and disbelief. “I wrote an album.”

Seeing her up there, it’s so obvious: I’m head over fucking heels for this girl, and I have been for a long time. A lot longer than I realized.

Pippa Hartley has me wrapped around her little finger. I’ll do anything for her, and I’m not even mad about it.

“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.”

“I don’t want to fight this anymore.” Her eyes are bright and full of vulnerability. “Me neither.”

I draw her closer. Something has shifted in my chest, locked into place. This is right. This is the way it’s supposed to be. I thought about her for all those years, and we found our way back to each other.

Mine. Pippa is mine. I’m never giving her up.

Nirvana. I’ve reached it. It’s between Pippa’s legs.