Page 4 of Pucked Into Position

Her eyes light up and she reaches to set a fork, chopsticks, and soy sauce packets beside the boxes. I think about the PR meeting, and a sudden urge to protect her from the public overwhelms the thought. I’ll tell her tomorrow. That can’t be the first thing she hears from me tonight.

I glance up to see her watching me. There’s a softness in her eyes and the gentle curve of her lips that puts me at ease, and I feel my shoulders relax as warmth blooms in my chest.

Get a grip. I scold myself.

She’s Tucker’s little sister. Completely off limits, no matter how beautiful or kind she is—and no matter what insane lie I just told my PR team. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her what I did and shut the whole thing down. I’ll let Brenda know we broke up when I told her about going public. The drama will be a shitshow, but at least Lana will be safe.

And Tucker won’t murder me.

Chapter Two

Lana

My heart flutters wildly as Ryan sits across from me.

I’d already prepared myself to see Ryan, the hockey player, and not Ryan, the gangly teenager. I’ve seen pictures and watched his games, but none of that prepared me for seeing him in person.

Eighteen-year-old Ryan was always a little broody, with medium-brown hair and a lean build. Now, his hair is faded on the sides and left artfully messy on top, and his once-lean frame has filled out with broad shoulders and a broad chest. A sharp, clean-shaven jaw completes the transformation. The only thing unchanged is the unmistakable sparkle in his hazel eyes and the familiar sleepy smile that spreads across his face when he sees me.

“Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. My PR team called a last-minute meeting.” Ryan’s voice has a roughness to it that draws goosebumps across my skin.

I rub my arms to hide them, and look up at him through my lashes, suddenly self-conscious of my messy bun, oversized T-shirt, and bike shorts. It’s what I’d worn to the airport and I was too hungry to shower and change before Ryan got home.

“It’s alright. I’d already anticipated calling for a ride,” I say, trying to focus on opening the container of chow mein in front of me.

We eat in silence for a few minutes. I’m not sure what to say after ten years apart, but somehow, the quiet feels comfortable. The Chinese food brings back memories of sharing fortune cookies with Ryan when he stayed over. We’d break them in half, read each other’s fortunes, then trade halves because I’d once told him they wouldn’t come true unless we shared. He always played along.

Tucker thought it was dumb, saying fortunes don’t work like that, but Ryan would always ask him if he’d ever had a fortune come true by eating his own cookie. He didn’t believe in it until the third time Ryan and I did the ritual. Eventually, Tucker agreed to try the ritual with us. Tucker’s fortune had said, “Something wonderful is about to happen to you,” and the next day, he got the news that he’d been recruited as his college hockey team’s goalie.

Ryan lets out a contented hum, pulling me from the memory. “This is perfect. Thank you for ordering food.”

I blush. “I’m glad. After I ordered, I started wondering if this was even something you’d eat anymore, with you being a professional hockey player and all.”

He smirks and my stomach swoops.

Stop it. He’s ten years older than you, and Tucker’s best friend. I remind myself. This is just a temporary living situation while I figure out how to pay for school.

We fall into comfortable silence again, and I let my eyes drift around the apartment, taking in the expansive layout. It’s far more luxurious than I’d anticipated.

When I told Anna about living with Ryan, she’d implanted the expectation in my head that single guys are messy and disgusting, but his apartment is just as neat and put-together as he is.

The kitchen, to my right, is wide open, and has a huge window that overlooks the city, letting in the golden rays of the Texas sunset. To my left, the living room has a massive couch draped in plush blankets facing a gigantic flatscreen TV. A heavy wooden coffee table that matches the breakfast table sits in the center, carelessly strewn with a mix of gaming and hockey magazines.

Across the living room is a short hallway that leads to the spacious guest bathroom and two bedrooms—one being the guest room, where my bags currently wait to be unpacked, and the other Ryan’s, the door shut tight.

Part of me wanted to snoop when I got here. I’ve always struggled to resist a closed door, but I also didn’t want to invade Ryan’s privacy more than I already have.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, drawing my attention back to his incredibly handsome face. The air feels like static against my skin. “I’m usually lousy company after a day like today. It was ridiculously long.”

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. I’ve been traveling all day. Honestly, the quiet is nice after dealing with two major airports.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. I am not looking forward to dealing with airports again soon.” He chuckles, and my skin heats. His laugh is deeper than it was the last time I saw him, and now it also does something to me that I can’t quite explain.

“Tucker said you’d be traveling a lot,” I say, pushing my food around in the container, trying to decide if I’m still hungry or if my stomach is too full of butterflies.

“He’s not wrong. Most of the season, we’re away at other arenas.” Ryan stretches, and my breath catches as his shirt lifts, exposing a sliver of skin. When I drag my gaze back to his face, I find him watching me.

I quickly look away, heat rushing to my cheeks.