Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

It’s only a matter of time before she admits it to another guy and he wants to help her out, too. My head falls back onto the pillow and I let out a low groan. The thought of sharing her makes my jaw clench. I like Pippa, and not just because I want to fuck her. I like talking to her, I like hanging out with her, and I like living with her. She makes those cupcakes for me. She’s funny, sweet, and beautiful. We’re friends, I think. I don’t want her to bake cupcakes for another guy, or sing in the shower while he listens outside the door. My head spins, and I realize I’m drunk. I haven’t been drunk in years. I let my mind wander back to Pippa, and an idea trickles through my sluggish thoughts. On my phone, I search for a sex toy I’ve heard about. My pulse beats in my ears and I’m rock hard as I put the toy in my cart, address it to Pippa at the apartment, and pay for it.

An email notification pops up on my screen. Shipment out for delivery. My eyes narrow, because I don’t remember ordering something to the apartment. Pippa usually handles that stuff on the credit card I gave her. Good news! Your purchase is out for delivery and should arrive later today. (1) Satisfyer - personal toy with clitoral suction for her toe-curling pleasure! My heart stops. I fucking forgot. Oh, fuck.

I’m staring at nothing. My face is the temperature of the sun, and I’m going to die of embarrassment or horniness or shock. Jamie Streicher sent me a sex toy, and I’ve been using it nonstop while thinking about him.

I press my hands against my cheeks. I’m going to die. Any second, my whole being will just poof into the air. “Oh god,” I whisper. “What?” “I think Jamie sent it.” She crows with laughter. “Awesome.” “No,” I protest, wincing. “Not awesome.” Her eyes are bright with excitement. “He liiiiiikes you.”

Her music fills the apartment, and a warm, tight pressure surges in my chest. The song she’s singing is hopeful, sweet, and fun. The lyrics are about getting back up on the horse after falling off. Pippa’s voice is soft but strong, and she has control over her notes like a professional. She makes it look easy and effortless. As she sings about moving on from tough times, I wonder if I have anything to do with this, if the pep talk I gave her before the wrap party about getting back on the ice made any impact. I really, really hope it did.

She nods. “I know it needs work.” “Why do you do that?” I ask without thinking. “Cut yourself down like that.” Discomfort flashes across her face, and she shifts her feet beneath her legs. “Um.” Her lashes flutter. “I guess I say it first so others won’t.” She looks over at me, and I definitely want to kiss her again, even just to distract her from the assholes who made her feel like she wasn’t good enough. “I’d never do that, songbird.” She holds my gaze before she gives me a small nod. “I know.” I’m so fucking gone for this girl. “How can anyone ever say yes to you if you say no to yourself first?” I ask. She chews her lip, watching me, and instead of pushing the issue, I just twirl my finger in the air. “Next.” She laughs, and the tension dissipates. “Demanding.”

This feels like family.

“Jamie,” she breathes, and I look at her. The look in her eyes tells me something dangerous is about to happen. She’s about to say something that I won’t be able to stop thinking about. I know it. “What?” My voice is low. “Why did you buy that toy for me?” Her lashes flutter. “The real answer.” I take a step toward her. The thread holding my willpower together is close to snapping. “Because I wanted to give you something he couldn’t.” Her gaze drops to my erection, and more blood rushes there. “Because,” I continue, because I can’t seem to keep a fucking secret around this girl, “I wanted to make you come harder than ever, and that was the only way. And I don’t want anyone else to do it.” Her throat works and she’s blushing again, but her eyes are locked on mine.

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.” He pulls back and looks down at me, and something about him telling me what to do sends heat rushing back to my center. “Do you understand?” I nod, dazed. “Good.” He lets go of my hair, steps back again, and folds his arms. My pulse picks up again as I pull my sweater off. I reach for the hem of my shirt, and as I pull it up, Jamie’s eyebrow lifts. “Slower.”

“Put your hands on my thighs, songbird.” I set my hands on his warm skin, and he flinches. “You’re cold,” he huffs, laughing quietly. “Sorry,” I squeak. “It’s okay.” He presses another kiss to my cheek, and this is the side of Jamie that’s the most dangerous. The sweet version of him. “Put your feet on mine.” I do, and he groans like he’s in pain. “Like ice,” he says, and I laugh. A little puff of air against my neck tells me he’s laughing, too.

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

“Hazel.” I nod at her. Her gaze goes to Miller, with his stupid arm still thrown around Pippa, and she makes a face of disgust. I knew I liked Hazel.

“We agreed not to.” My words are a regretful whisper against his lips, and he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on mine, breathing hard. “I don’t care.” Honestly? Me neither. I can’t remember why we even agreed not to do this. It’s too good.

“I can’t stop thinking about this,” Jamie grits out, just as angry as before, but the heat in his eyes makes my core clench up with need. He wants me so badly. All I can do is nod. “Tell me to stop, Pippa,” he says against my mouth. I moan as he sucks my tongue. No freaking way.

The song in the restaurant changes, and my thoughts screech to a halt as I listen to Zach sing the opening lyrics. My stomach drops through the floor. “What’s wrong?” Jamie’s voice sounds very far away. The lyrics float around me, and my lips mouth the chorus as Zach sings. I’m vaguely aware that Jamie’s hand is covering mine on top of the table, but all I can focus on is Zach singing my song. My song. The one I played for him and his manager. The one they laughed at. They said it wasn’t good enough before they took it.

One song is about how Jamie takes care of everyone but himself, and who takes care of him? It’s serious and protective. There’s a lyric in there that just fell out of my mouth, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I’d do it forever if it wouldn’t break my heart.

My mom gives Daisy a scratch. “She misses Pippa.” Daisy and I look at each other. Me too, buddy.

It’s gorgeous this time of year, I text. You’ll freeze your ass off. Perfect. Can I come say hi? Yes, please. Great. My flight lands in two hours. My mouth falls open. What?! I’m at the airport. Is that okay? Of course! My smile stretches from ear to ear.

I open the door, and he’s standing there with a barely perceptible smile, which means he’s just as excited as I am. God, he’s so tall. I’m speechless, staring up at him with a doofy grin on my face. “Hi,” I say stupidly.

Hazel walks in and Jamie nods at her. “Hazel.” Surprisingly, she doesn’t glare at him. “Hi. You made it.” He nods. “I did.” Hazel glances at me, and she seems pleased. “Good.”

That evening, my mom pulls my dad away to give Jamie a break, and Hazel’s upstairs in her room, so it’s just Jamie and me in the living room, watching Elf. We’re drinking hot apple cider, a yearly tradition in our family, and the cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and star anise make our home smell amazing. “Let’s make this at home,” Jamie says, and I melt. I love the way he says home like that. I love that he flew out to Silver Falls. I love hanging out with him, just sitting in the living room like this, even if I’m in sweatpants. He seems more content and relaxed than ever.

“You got me my own jersey?” He studies my face with a funny look. “You like it?” 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. “You don’t have to wear my name on your back,” he says quietly, watching me carefully. “We can take that part off.” “Don’t you dare.” I hold his gaze as my insides melt into a puddle. “I want to wear your name.” “Okay.” The corners of his mouth hitch, and his eyes warm. “I want you to, too.” 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. I love every inch of this present.

“Jamie,” I whisper, staring at the box. My throat feels tight. His finger brushes the back of my hand playfully. “Open it.” I press my lips into a flat line, wavering, before I flip the lid off. Yep. 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. My eyes well up with emotion and I blink fast to clear them. “It’s too much.” I can’t look at him. If I look at him, I’ll cry. Or kiss him. I’m not sure. “It’s not too much.” “It’s too expensive.” My feelings for him grow by the second, expanding like a balloon. “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.” Shit. This guy’s going to break my goddamned heart.

Something risky and bold thrills through me, and I start playing the song. Some of the lyrics are, um, really specific. That’s my favorite part about songwriting, how specific some of the lyrics are, about eating cherry chocolate ice cream and walking past your old high school or something, and you can totally picture yourself inside the song. I’ll sit between your legs while you make me shake against you. Make my body feel new things, we both want to. Facing me, Jamie stiffens, and his eyes go hazy. I stop playing. “Songbird,” he warns, lifting a brow. There’s a delicious slant to his cruel mouth, and my face feels hot. You could cut the tension in this room with a knife. “We should end it there,” I mutter. “Not a fucking chance.” His voice is thick. My gaze drops to Jamie’s lap. He’s fully hard, erection straining against the fabric of his sweats. Heat pulses low in my stomach, but I continue playing the song. “You wrote that one for me?” he asks when it ends. He won’t take his eyes off my face. I nod. Our gazes hold, and tension cracks between us. Jamie’s gaze darkens, and his jaw tightens as I lick my bottom lip. Pressure gathers between my legs, and my skin feels warm. I want him so badly. His eyes pin me with determination. “That was the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.” “Me, too,” I breathe.

My eyes go saucer-wide, and I suck in a breath. “Nothing’s going to happen.” With everyone in the house? No way. Her eyes roll back. “Oh, Jamie.” I reach across the booth to cover her mouth, laughing. “Shut up.” “Uhn, puck me harder with your hockey stick.” She sounds like a porn star, and people glance over. I gasp with laughter. “That doesn’t even make sense.” She bats me away, grinning.

The bar roars with drunken appreciation for Pippa, and I watch as she gives the crowd a shy smile, hands the guitar off, and makes her way off the stage. 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 want to do terrible things to her, make her come with my mouth and my hands and my cock, make her scream my name and show her how fucking incredible sex can be. I know sinking into her tight, wet pussy is going to change my life. It’s not just the sex, though. I want to wake up with her, spend free evenings watching a movie on the couch, and go for walks in the woods with Daisy. I don’t know how, but we’re going to figure this out. All the stuff with my mom, my concerns about hurting Pippa like I hurt Erin, I’m going to deal with it. I’m going to fix it. I don’t want to be weighed down by it anymore. I just want Pippa.

My feelings hammer against my chest, wanting out. Nerves flash through me, and I search her eyes. Christ, she’s so pretty and perfect.

“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.” Something expands in my chest, filling every corner with an intense warmth. Our gazes are locked, and my arms are still around her, keeping her close. “I don’t want to fight this anymore.” Her eyes are bright and full of vulnerability. “Me neither.” “Really?” She nods, laughing lightly like she’s relieved. I don’t know what to do with this feeling ricocheting throughout me. It’s like there are firecrackers in my blood. Fucking finally, I can stop fighting it. “We’re going to figure it all out together.” She smiles, and I fall a little harder for her. “I know.”

“You’re so perfect,” I tell her. “So fucking perfect.” She watches me with that sweet, drowsy smile. It feels special, discovering sex with Pippa like this. Like we’re both discovering how it can be, because it sure as hell has never been like this for me. She is so fucking mine. I pull the covers up around her, smiling as she settles into the pillows, still wearing my jersey, hair fanned out, all messed up from my hands in it. I love her. The words are right under my vocal cords, but I hold them back, because this is all so new. They beat through my blood, they weave through my heart, and I’m sure they’re written all over my face. “Good night, songbird,” I say instead.

When I play the song this time, it feels different, because now that Jamie’s mom is getting better, it seems like he’s going to be okay. He can live his own life now that she has hers under control. “I’d do it forever if it wouldn’t break my heart,” I sing. My throat tightens as the words spill out, and my voice catches. It feels different, because I know Jamie isn’t Zach. Things have changed between us. It’s so new and I’m terrified to think forward to the future with him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hope. I close my eyes, because I don’t want to see whatever Ivy’s expression is. It’s unprofessional to get emotional in the studio. I keep my eyes closed the entire song and let myself feel all the feelings. Jamie wanders into my mind, and I smile to myself, because his encouragement is the reason I’m even here, and I’ll always be grateful for that. “Beautiful.” Ivy’s clipped voice comes through the mic, and my eyelids fly open. Jamie stands beside her in the sound booth, arms folded over his chest, watching me with that intense, bright gaze, and the corner of his mouth curves up. So serious, even when he’s smiling. He’s here, and I’m so stunned and pleased that all I can do is let the grin stretch across my face as my heart flips over in my chest. He’s here, and I fall a little deeper in love with Jamie Streicher.

“Jamie, a professional massage therapist isn’t going to give you a happy ending,” I blurt out. He stares at me, equally confused. “I fucking hope not.” His eyebrows knit. “The massage is for you.” “Oh.” I let out a high laugh, and my face burns. “Sorry.” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “What?” I ask, turning to hide how red I’m going, but his hands land on my shoulders and he turns me back around. “You’re jealous,” he says, studying my face with a twitching mouth. I roll my eyes. “Stop it.” “You are.” His eyes are so bright. Smug. So fucking smug. “You’re jealous because you thought a woman was going to give me a massage.” I shrug, and he pulls me against him. “So fucking cute,” he mutters. “Like I have eyes for anyone else.”

My smile is shy as I glance down at my dress. Everything about today, about my life right now, feels like a fairy tale. The princess goes to the ball in a beautiful dress, swooning over the handsome prince. It’s not just the dress, or the necklace, or the lingerie, or the hair and makeup. I feel beautiful around Jamie. I never felt more special and beautiful than I did sitting on Jamie’s lap the other morning, with no makeup, with wet, messy hair, wearing his old hockey hoodie. The confidence he’s helped me build over the past few months has seeped into my veins—every time he said you can do it or I believe in you or you’re so talented, songbird—and now it’s a part of me. I give Jamie the brightest smile I have. “Let’s go, handsome.” He laughs in surprise, and I can tell he likes that nickname.

“I love how hard you get,” she breathes, watching her hand work me over my pants before glancing up at me with a playful smile. Oh, yeah. She’s getting a ring. A big one. Loud and flashy. Disgustingly over-the-top. She’ll hate it, I’m sure, but I want people seeing it from a mile away. From space. I want it to signal to everyone that she’s taken.

“I love you.” My words are a quiet murmur as I watch her reaction, and my heart slams against the front wall of my chest. I’ve never said those words to a girl. I’ve never felt this way, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying. “I love you so fucking much, Pippa. I’m in love with you. I want everything with you.” Her lips part, and her chest rises and falls fast as my words sink in. Please feel the same way, I pray to the universe. “You’re everything to me.” My Pippa. My distraction, the girl I’ve always been powerless against. “I want you in my life. You make me so, so fucking happy, songbird, and I hope I make you happy, too.” “You do,” she says immediately, and her hands slip into the back of my hair. “You do make me happy. You’re everything to me, too. I love you, too,” she whispers. My heart bursts open, expanding in my chest. “I was hoping you’d say that.” My mouth falls to hers, and the soft noise in her throat has my blood humming. She loves me, and I don’t have to keep it in anymore. She loves me, and we’re doing this. She loves me, and this is forever.

Pippa wouldn’t leave my side today, even when I stubbornly demanded to send her home in a flurry of panic and shame. She’s been there for me since day one, even before we were together, and I know that even if my mom’s recovery takes longer than expected, I’m not alone in it. Pippa isn’t just the love of my life; she’s my family.