Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

He’s one of the best goalies in the NHL, with the looks of a freaking god.

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.

"He acts all grumpy in her POV, but acts all whipped when we come to his POV" vibes, oh I love it so much.

Grown up, though, she’s fucking gorgeous.

I’m Pippa, she said at the door, like she didn’t remember me. I don’t know why that made me so disappointed.

These two idiots are so fucking similar.

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

She had the most beautiful, captivating, spellbinding voice I’d ever heard—sweet, but when she hit certain notes, raspy.

He's actually whipped as a cream, oh my god.

The air thickens with tension, and we both stare at each other. Is she…? In my head, images appear of us tangled up in bed. She’s beneath me, head tipped back, eyes closed, with an expression of pleasure on her face as I thrust into her. I’m going to be thinking about that later with my hand around my cock, and I hate myself for that.

DAMNN.

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.

table. I’m being an intimidating jackass, but I need to know why she’s crying so I can fix it.

I want to kill that guy for making her feel like this.

Goalies almost never get into fights, but if that guy were on the ice at my game tomorrow, I wouldn’t hesitate.

“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.”

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

Cutest lads, oh my god.

Our eyes are locked, and the side of his mouth isn’t even twitching; it’s curving up. God, his eyes are pretty. The way he’s looking at me, amused and intense, it’s making my stomach flutter like crazy.

“They were incredible.” His gaze drops to my mouth, and my eyes widen a fraction. We are so flirting right now. What?

THE TENSION.

“If I make more, are they going to make it to the team?” “Probably not.” I laugh, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

ONCE AGAIN, THE. CUTEST. BABIES.

I realize Jamie’s watching me watch the guitar, wearing a curious expression. “Sorry,” I chirp, turning away from the guitar. “Let’s go.”

Oh, I just know he's going to buy it for her later in the story and I cannot wait for it.

I really, really want to fuck my pretty assistant.

Hearing her move around the kitchen to make her morning coffee is the best way to wake up.

They're so domestic and they aren't even a couple yet.

I picture Pippa’s mouth around my cock, her gray-blue eyes looking up at me, gauging my reaction. Blood rushes to my dick, and I’m hard.

Needed to highlight this because there is a very hot scene incoming right after this quote ends.. You're welcome, future me.

She lifts her gaze to meet mine, and her eyes are full of vulnerability. “The last time I played for someone, they laughed at me.” Her voice is quiet.

Rage surges through my veins. I’ll kill them. “Who?” I demand in a low, lethal voice. “Tell me. Names. Now.” She rolls her eyes. “Jamie.” “Now.” “It was Zach.” Her face is going red, a patch of pink on each cheek, and my fists clench while folded over my chest.

Her eyebrows pull together, and the way she looks at me makes me want to scoop her up into a hug and never put her down. I’d never let her go. The way she’s looking at me makes me want to protect her from the world and assholes like her ex.

songbird.

“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.”

AHHHHH SO ADORABLE. Can these two adopt me, please?

behind the net

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.

Jamie Streicher is so fucking hot.

I slip my jacket off. She rolls her eyes. “Jamie. I’m fine.” “Put this on. Now.” My voice is low, and I see her breath catch. “Bossy,” she whispers, pulling it on. It’s huge on her. The sleeves are way too long. She looks fucking adorable.

“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.

Meeting his eyes settles my racing heart. “You won’t let him get between my crease?” I whisper, smiling. It’s a phrase I heard one of the commentators say while I watched one of Jamie’s away games. It means to score a goal, and it sounds dirty as hell. I’m trying to make him smile. His lip curls like he’s disgusted, and I laugh. “In your crease,” he mutters. “And no, I fucking won’t.”

I blink, shaking myself. “Did you write that?” 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.

“Good girl,” Jamie growls. “Such a good fucking girl for me, coming so hard.”

Jamie isn’t just the hot hockey player I had a crush on in high school. He’s so much more. Under his surly, chiseled exterior, he’s kind and caring and protective. He cares more about the people in his life than about himself. He encourages me in music like no one else has. I’m becoming friends with his mom, and I love taking care of his dog.

Ughh, these two are such green flags.

I have major feelings for Jamie Streicher.

My heart bursts with pride and affection for my Pippa.

The doorbell rings, and I leap up from the couch before taking a deep breath in front of the door. Hazel snorts from the kitchen, where she’s on her laptop. 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. His cheeks are flushed from the cold. He’s wearing a green toque that brings out the color of his eyes. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he’s looking at me like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. “Hi,” he says, and the low tenor of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

Why are they so freaking cute, oh my god.

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.”

I KNEW IT.

“Fucking incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

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.

“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.”

“You’re home,” I say into Jamie’s neck while he presses a kiss to the top of my head. His arms around me, pulling me into his hard chest, is the ultimate comfort. “Finally.” He presses another kiss to my temple, and when I lean back to look up at him, his eyes go soft. “I’ve been wanting to do this for ten days.” He kisses me, and I sigh into him. His mouth on mine is pure relief, sweet and careful, until he groans and sweeps his tongue between my lips. His stubble lightly scratches me, and heat pulses through me. “Missed you,” he murmurs against my lips between kisses. “I love coming home to you.”

This whole scene is just so adorable and domestic.

“You say that a lot, but I can’t remember the last time you were right.”

Pippa. My chest eases the second I think of her. My pretty songbird. My strong, beautiful, brave Pippa, who sings on stage when she’s terrified and gets back on the ice.

“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