Behind the Net (Vancouver Storm, #1)

by Stephanie Archer

Fucking hell, she was so beautiful, and knowing she was afraid to do it made me so proud.

I hope she knows she isn’t broken. I hope she realizes what she’s capable of.

Pippa’s wearing a Vancouver Storm hat. I blink, staring at her in it, and those sparks ignite in my chest all over again. She lights up, lifting her hand in a quick, shy wave that makes the corner of my mouth tip up. I wave back, and the frustration I felt moments before melts away. She points at her hat, and I nod, letting myself smile at her. I like seeing her in my team’s gear. Beside her, my mom is chatting away, smiling. She says something to Pippa, who nods and laughs. My mom likes Pippa and asks about her every time I call, and I like that, too. I like that after the game, Pippa and Daisy will be at home.

I was focused on his weaknesses when mine sits right behind me.

Primal protectiveness rises in me.

In an instant, my mind changes. I want to see this girl outside the walls of my apartment. I want to see her laughing and having fun. I nod once. “Okay.” Pippa lights up, and I can’t look away. “Great.”

Jamie’s hand lands on my lower back, and he leads me to a seat in one of the booths before slipping in beside me. His arm comes over the top of the booth, his thigh presses against mine, and his scent surrounds me. His position around me feels possessive, like I’m his.

I think about the other night, how he remembers me from high school. How he said I was gorgeous. My throat feels tight. I can’t stop thinking about the intense way he looked when he said it. A tiny shred inside me wonders if Jamie’s attracted to me. I’ve been the quiet, invisible girl in the background for so long that it feels unfathomable.

To my surprise, Rory also remembered me from high school. He made me show him pictures of Daisy, so I showed him one of Daisy, Hazel, and me the day we went hiking in North Van, and he studied it with interest. He only started acting like an asshole when Jamie showed up.

The image of Jamie in the upstairs box, jaw clenched tight and jealousy flashing through his eyes, makes me smile up at him.

“Something funny, songbird?” His voice is a low murmur, and a shiver runs down my back. I smile wider. “Nope.” His eyes dance, and even though his mouth is in a flat line, his gaze is warm and amused. “Good. Keep it that way.”

I wish I didn’t have this reaction around him. It’s getting harder to hide.

He pins me with his gaze. “I know you can do it.” The way he looks down at me, the certainty in his voice, it makes my insides warm.

Hayden turns back to us from where he was talking with the booth behind him. “Pippa, are you a singer?” I roll my eyes. “Not really.” “Yes,” Jamie cuts in. “She sings and plays guitar, and she’s good.”

“Tell you what, songbird.” Jamie’s mouth brushes my ear, and there’s that low tug in my belly again. “If you sing a song up there, I’ll go with you to your wrap party. We’ll show your asshole ex who came out on top.” I meet his gaze, and electricity pulls between us like a cord. I picture walking into the party with Jamie’s arm around me, maybe his mouth brushing my ear the way it did a second ago. I picture the look on Zach’s face—disbelief, shock, and jealousy. I like that idea. “Deal.”

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’s mouth takes mine hard, like he’s been wanting this for years. He grips the back of my hair and tilts my head back, dragging his tongue along mine, and my knees go weak. His movements are urgent, hungry, insistent, and demanding. His intoxicating, masculine scent is in my nose, and I can barely breathe. I don’t even want to breathe if this is the other option. My hands move up the firm planes of his broad chest, and he groans into my mouth. Oh god. He licks into my mouth like he wants to fuck me. I’ve never been kissed like this.

He grips my hair like he owns me. His other hand rests around the base of my neck, heavy and huge. He doesn’t apply pressure, but just the contact of his big hand holding me in such a vulnerable position, it makes me never want to move. I like this way too much.

Jamie Streicher is so fucking hot.

“What’s happening?” I breathe. He blinks and frowns, and then his gaze shutters. “Shit.” He straightens up, and I want to yell no! “I’m sorry.” He drags a palm down his face. “I lost my head. I wasn’t thinking.” There are a hundred things I want to say. I liked it and do it again come to mind. He takes a step back. Without his body heat, I’m cold. The hunger and urgency are gone from his expression, leaving only his typical cranky surliness. But unlike normal, I don’t feel like teasing him about it. I just feel hurt. An ugly realization hits me—this is exactly how I felt at the airport. What am I doing? He’s hot, protective, and secretly sweet. Kissing him was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. He’s nice to his mom, for god’s sake. He’s the whole package. If I let him, he will devastate me. What Zach did will be a tiny scratch compared to what Jamie could do. It’s like I’ve thrown a bucket of ice water on my thoughts, and my head clears.

This isn’t a good idea, I told him. I can’t be picturing it, then.

My jaw is tight as I stalk back to the group. Something about my gait makes the guys move out of my way. Fuck. Kissing Pippa was incredible. It’s like she was made for me. I shouldn’t have done that, but something about Pippa makes me lose control. I can’t give her more than casual, and I know that’s not enough for her. That isn’t enough for me where she’s concerned, and that terrifies me.

If Pippa and I were together, I’d never let her rest.

I can’t believe I did that. My eyes close. I said you’re my assistant, but what I meant was you’re special and I don’t want to hurt you. She’s been through the wringer. If I crushed her the way I crushed Erin, I couldn’t live with myself.

When she sang tonight, she looked like she was on top of the world. She smiled and sang and played like that fuckface Zach never happened. Like no one had hurt her, or like she had healed from it. I want that for her. I want it so fucking badly. That’s why we can’t do more of what we did tonight. She deserves so much better than me.

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.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” The words are sharp and short, like he doesn’t approve, but the heat in his eyes tells me a different story. My face heats.

“You look great,” I tell him, taking in his charcoal suit. “You’re going to have women falling all over you.” Good lord, he looks good. The suit must be custom, because it fits him perfectly. He isn’t wearing a tie, and instead, the top two buttons of his white dress shirt are open. He holds my eyes, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. I chew my lip, trying not to remember the sound I heard the night we kissed. I can’t help it, though.

I didn’t mind him touching me.

He’s this way with everyone, a wry voice reminds me. Jamie Streicher takes care of everyone in his life, and I’m not special.

My stomach dips, and it’s hitting me now. Zach is inside, and I have to pretend what he did didn’t bother me at all. I feel sick.

“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’m just going to have one.” His eyes flick to my hair. “I’ll be fine to drive.” “I know.” I laugh quietly. “You’re Mr. Responsible.” His gaze drops to my mouth, and my blood spikes with electricity. “Not always,” he mutters, taking his beer from the bartender before thanking her.

“How do you two know each other?” she asks, still gazing at him. His hand returns to my lower back. “I’m her boyfriend.” My thoughts drop off a cliff.

Jamie tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. I can’t breathe. I just stare at him in disbelief and awe. He’s so good at this. “With the right person,” he says, holding my gaze, “you just know.”

Jamie Streicher is going to kill me tonight.

Alone, this would be god-awful and terrifying. With Jamie, though, it feels like we’re in it together.

“Why’d you wear these ridiculous shoes?” I shrug. “Because they’re hot.” His gaze lingers on my legs. “Yeah” is all he says.

“So that’s the kind of guy you go for.” His tone is flat and unhappy. I watch Zach regale the group with a story. He’s thriving as the center of attention, and as he says something and everyone laughs, I catch him glancing around to gauge their reactions. He wants them to like him so badly. “Not anymore,” I tell Jamie. Our eyes meet, and the chill in his gaze fades a fraction. Is he thinking about when I told him he was gorgeous, or the kiss in the hallway? “And all this.” His fingers squeeze my hip and his gaze roams my face, my hair, my dress. “It’s not for him?” I laugh in disbelief. “What? Jamie,” I murmur. “Of course it’s not for him.”

“The ultimate revenge would be fucking you.”

I’m the closest I’ve ever been to hauling this girl over my shoulder, taking her home, and forgetting all the rules I’ve made for myself. Her mouth curves up and her eyes glitter with teasing as I replay the words she just said. The ultimate revenge would be fucking you. I wish.

“I owe you for this. Thank you so much.” “For what?” My tone is flat with tension. She gestures around the party, and then between her and me. “For this. For letting me sit in your lap. For going along with this whole charade.” Letting her sit in my lap? I actually feel like laughing.

Whether she realizes it or not, Pippa doesn’t need him anymore. Zach realizes it, though. A burst of smug male satisfaction hits me in the chest as I lock eyes with Zach across the party. He pauses mid-conversation before resuming, and I know I’m right.

Fucking asshole. The urge to protect Pippa expands tenfold.

I need to make her come.

“Why are you blushing, songbird?”

The pretty songbird is thinking about something naughty, and I need to know what it is.

I’m letting myself act the way I want to with Pippa, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop once we leave.

“You really want to drive the stake into his chest?” I murmur, leaning in and letting my mouth brush her ear. She shudders against me. I wait until she meets my eyes. Christ, her eyes are pretty. “Kiss me,” I tell her.

Pippa blinks. “He’s watching.” I arch a brow, and my gaze falls to her lips. I know how soft her mouth is. I’ve replayed it a hundred times. “Only if you want to.” “Yeah,” she breathes, nodding, and when I lift my gaze to hers, she’s looking at my mouth. “If he’s watching, we should.” “Mhm.” “Okay. I’m going to kiss you now.” My hand comes to the back of her head and I gently pull her forward. Our kiss is different this time. Less urgent, less frantic, although I feel all those things beating against the front wall of my chest, urging me to take her mouth, but no. I want to savor this one, because just like her sitting in my lap, we’ll never get another shot. After tonight, she’ll never see that loser again, and my opportunities to touch her will drop to zero. I kiss Pippa like I mean it. Like she’s air and I’m about to suffocate. Her hands fist my collar and pull me closer to her, and I nip her bottom lip before I taste her again. I kiss her like we have forever. I know we don’t. We have maybe thirty seconds more of this if I’m lucky. She sighs into me like she’s been thinking about this all week, too. Everything falls away—the people, the music, everything except the feel of her mouth under mine, her pressed against me, my hands in her hair. She’s so fucking sweet. Her tongue slips into my mouth, and I’m leaking pre-cum in my boxers. I suck her tongue, and she whimpers. I could make her come so fucking fast. I’d do it over and over until she begged for a rest. “Pippa,” I...