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It’s more than a game now. It’s everything.
Moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a dance of shadows across Amanda’s face. Vulnerability has replaced her confidence, tugging at something inside me. I pull her closer, wanting to erase any ill ease. My hand lifts almost of its own accord, and I brush my thumb across the softness of her cheek. She’s so damn beautiful.
“Blake…” Her voice trails off, but her body leans into the touch, seeking comfort.
“Listen,” I start, my heart thudding against my ribs. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You’re more than just a game plan to me, Amanda.”
She looks up, her eyes locked onto mine. They’re wide, filled with questions and maybe, just maybe, hope. This moment is a sudden overtime play, and I can’t afford to miss my shot.
“Everything that’s happening between us—it’s got me feeling ways I didn’t expect.” I take a breath, the night air sharp in my lungs. “There’s this dream I have, making it to the NHL, but now there’s you, and it’s like my priorities are shifting without asking me first.”
Amanda’s hand rests lightly over mine, still on her face. Her touch sends a jolt through me; it’s electric, grounding, real.
“Blake, I…”
“Shh,” I say, not ready to break the spell. “Just hear me out.” The words come rushing out before fear can clamp them back. “I’m falling for you, Amanda. Hard.” My throat tightens around the confession, its gravity sinking in.
Her eyes search mine, tracing the sincerity they find there. “And I’m scared,” I admit. “Because I don’t know how to do this—be this guy who wants more than just the game. But with you, I want to try.”
Her lips parted, and she gasped silently as if my words were oxygen and she’d been underwater too long. And in that breath, something shifts. It’s subtle, like the click of a puck hitting the net, but it’s there. Victory. Connection. Promise.
“Blake, I…” She mirrors my earlier gesture, placing her palm against my chest, feeling the erratic beat beneath. “You’re shaking.”
“Because it matters,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “You matter.”
Out in the moonlit courtyard, our breaths mingle. I feel as if we’re two players on the same team finally understanding the game they’re actually playing. And for the first time, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I can have both—the dream of the NHL and the girl who makes every victory sweeter.
My fingers trace her jawline, heart hammering like it’s trying to escape. This moment, her eyes wide and dark in the soft, silvery glow, is where everything changes.
“Blake,” she breathes out, and I feel the warmth of her words against my lips.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, every muscle tensed, ready to retreat or advance at her command.
She shakes her head and leans in closer. Her hand slides up to my neck, pulling me closer. “I want more.”
Our lips meet, and damn, it’s like scoring the game-winning goal in overtime. There’s a rush and a need that floods through me. I kiss her back with everything I’ve got—fear, hope, desire—all tangled up in the press of her mouth against mine.
Her fingers weave into the hair at the nape of my neck, sending heat coursing in my veins. My hands find her waist, drawing her in until there’s no space between us.
I’m lost in the rhythm of her lips moving with mine, the soft sighs that escape her, and the way she clings to me like I’m the only solid thing in a spinning world.
“Blake,” she whispers against my mouth, and I can hear the smile in her voice, the same one I’m sure is on my face.
“More than a game,” I say back, our foreheads resting together. “You’re more than everything.”
“Blake, take me back to your place.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
AMANDA
We wastedno time and arrived at Blake’s house. I still haven’t told him about the internship denial. I know I should, but I don’t want to ruin our perfect evening.
He said he was falling for me.
Vulnerability shone in his eyes when he expressed those words. It was a side of Blake I hadn’t seen before, stripped of his usual confident exterior. And in that moment, I realized he was giving me a piece of himself, trusting me with his heart.
The door shuts behind us with a soft click, and we’re enveloped in the familiar scent of leather and musk that clings to his shared living space. He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs to his bedroom. We’ve been here many times, but tonight feels different. He seems different.
