She’s fucking beautiful.
I watch her laugh and clap her hands. So carefree and real. She’s captivating.
I don’t know what it is about her. Maybe it’s the way she holds herself, or the light that radiates from her as she clearly tries to hide.
I find myself watching her more than I should. Her smile is carefree and unguarded. It lights up her whole face. Her mouth spreads wide, showing a glimpse of teeth, and her eyes sparkle with mirth.
It cuts through the tension in my chest. And for a moment, I forget about the heaviness of the last six months. Just looking at her makes my body weightless, the drowning pull of my grief momentarily forgotten.
As she watches the guys butcher classic after classic, I find myself focusing on the little things—the way she bites her lip when she’s trying not to laugh and how her eyes crinkle when she finds something funny. There’s an innocence about her that doesn’t fit the world of hockey players and bright lights. It makes me want to know her more.
She’s nothing like the usual girls I go for. She’s tiny. No more than five feet. Doll-like in comparison to my six-foot-four frame.
My mind wanders to all the ways her body would feel draped over my shoulder and how pretty she’d look tangled up in the sheets with me all night long. My dick stirs at the thought of it.
Nothing about her screams she wants attention from me or anyone else, for that matter. Not her demeanor, body language, or her simple outfit of black skinny jeans and a white tee tucked at the waist. Her hair is tied in a loose ponytail. Dark brown waves sway down her small back, short bangs framing her makeup-free face.
There’s only one word that comes to mind.
Gorgeous.
Oliver, Hayes, Rudy, and Austin take a bow after their performance of “Islands in the Stream.”
As they turn to get off the stage, Oliver smacks our broody captain on the ass. Hayes shoots him our defenseman with death stare, and Erin bends at the waist and erupts into a fit of giggles.
Bella leans into her sister and whispers a few words in her ear. When she pulls back, Bella grins wide.
When Erin’s eyes lift to find mine watching her, I have no doubt that’s what Bella whispered to her.
I give her a wave.
Erin’s gaze widens, and she covers her face with a book. A chuckle rumbles out of me, and then I’m moving.
It’s as if Erin knows I’m coming for her because her fingertips press harder into the book she’s holding.
“Hey, man,” Brodie greets. “This is Bella. Bella, this is my best friend, Chase,” Brodie adds.
I stick my hand out to Bella. “Hey, it’s nice to meet the girl he can’t shut up about.”
Bella laughs. “He talks about you a lot, too. This is my sister, Erin. Say hello, Erin,” Bella coos, elbowing her sister.
“Hi,” Erin squeaks from behind her book.
Brodie folds his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing while Bella pries the book out of Erin’s hands and shoves it under her butt.
Erin gapes at her, and I observe the two sisters communicating with facial expressions. It’s entertaining, to say the least, and Bella appears to have won.
“We already bumped into each other,” I say, sticking out my hand in an attempt to try this again. “I’m Chase.”
Erin hesitates, her eyes flicking nervously between my hand and my face.
For a second, I think she might leave me hanging, but then her hand lifts and she places it in mine. Tentative and trembling. And then, just as quickly, she pulls away, her head dipping low.
Why does this simple touch seem to carry more meaning than it should?
“H-hi. I’m Erin,” she says, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes flicking to mine for just a moment. I find myself fighting the need to reward her for her bravery but suppress the urge to kiss her right on the mouth.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bookworm.”
