2. How to Impress a Girl
2
HOW TO IMPRESS A GIRL
LIAM
T hankfully, the walk to the hospital is short, though the biting wind makes it feel longer. The warmth of the building is a relief, and we leave our coats at reception. I try to focus on why we’re here—the kids, the PR, being a role model—not on the way Sophie’s silk blouse hints at curves I should not be thinking about.
As we step off the elevator onto the second floor, a small voice pipes up near us.
“Are you really Liam O’Connor?”
I turn to see a kid, maybe eight years old. His Defenders jersey is at least two sizes too big, hanging loose on his thin frame. It hits me harder than I expect, a punch to the gut. The image of him overlaps with a memory of my little brother. Kieran was the same age and looked just as fragile the day I had to tell him Dad wasn’t coming home from the hospital the same.
I drop to one knee instinctively, putting myself at his level. “Sure am, buddy. What’s your name?”
“I’m Jack,” the kid says, his eyes wide with something so pure, it makes my chest ache. That blind, unshakable belief that people will be exactly who you need them to be. I learned young how easily that belief can shatter.
“Nice to meet you, Jack. That’s a pretty awesome jersey you’ve got there.”
He beams, but then his face falls, his small shoulders slumping. “Mom says I can’t play hockey. Because of the cancer.”
My heart stutters, my throat tightening as his words sink in. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sophie watching us, but for once, I’m not thinking about her or how to play this moment for anyone else’s benefit.
I lean in slightly, dropping my voice like I’m letting Jack in on a secret. “You know what? Sometimes the best thing about hockey isn’t playing. It’s being part of something bigger than yourself. Being part of a team.”
His face brightens again, and over his shoulder, I catch Sophie’s expression—soft, thoughtful, like she’s seeing something in me she wasn’t expecting. I quickly look away. It’s easier when beautiful women look at me with lust or disdain. This feels too dangerous.
“You wanna help me hand out some jerseys to the other kids?” I ask Jack. “You can be my assistant captain.”
His whole face lights up. “For real?”
“For real.” I stand and offer him my hand. “What do you say, Captain Jack?”
He slips his small hand into mine, trusting, and I feel something tighten in my chest. This is why I usually send signed merch instead of showing up to these visits in person. It’s harder to keep your walls up when kids look at you like you’re their hero.
“Seems like you’ve got competition for the C,” Nate jokes lightly, but the look in his eyes is knowing. He was there after Dad’s accident. He saw how hard I worked to make sure Kieran and Erin never felt the fear I did.
Sophie steps closer, her perfume—a mix of something sweet and warm—doing dangerous things to my focus. “Need another assistant?” she asks Jack with a smile so genuine it squeezes my heart. “I happen to be excellent at jersey distribution.”
Jack considers her offer seriously, his small face scrunching up in thought. “Do you know hockey?”
“Her dad’s our coach,” I offer, trying to keep the grin off my face when Sophie rolls her eyes.
“Coach Novak is your dad?” Jack’s eyes go wide. “Does he yell at home like he does on TV?”
Sophie laughs, and the sound wraps around my chest like a warm blanket. “Only when someone leaves their sneakers in the hallway.”
Jack giggles, and just like that, Sophie’s won him over. As we follow Jack down the corridor, Sophie falls into step beside me, her shoulder brushing mine.
“So, the infamous Liam O’Connor has a soft spot for kids, huh?” she teases, her voice low enough that only I can hear.
“Don’t let it get around,” I reply lightly. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
“Right. The bad boy spiel,” she says, with mockery so subtle, it makes me glance over at her. “Must be exhausting keeping up that image all the time.”
I shoot her a sharp look, but her expression is unreadable. Before I can figure out how to respond, Jack calls out ahead of us.
“Come on! There’s kids waiting for you this way!”
Sophie hurries after him, and I can’t stop myself from watching her go. My mouth goes dry, my pulse skipping as my gaze dips to the outline of her ass.
This is bad, O’Connor. This is very bad.
Jack leads the way into one of the hospital rooms, all business now. “This is Fred and Tommy,” he announces proudly. “Fred likes the T. rex best, and Tommy has the same thing as me.”
The room is full of dinosaur stickers and drawings, the beeping of machines providing a steady background hum. Fred, a blond-haired firecracker, is locked in a fierce battle between his T. rex and Triceratops action figures, while Tommy, a quiet redhead, is coloring a Stegosaurus with careful precision.
Despite the sterile hospital setting, both boys seem to be in good spirits.
“Liam O’Connor! Nate Russo!” Fred shouts, abandoning his dinosaurs to bounce excitedly on his bed. “You came to visit us!”
I grin, moving to his bedside. “Of course we did, buddy. We couldn’t miss the chance to hang out with our favorite dino experts.”
Sophie kneels beside Tommy, her tone warm and easy. “Wow, that Stegosaurus looks amazing! You’re quite the artist.”
Tommy blushes, a shy smile spreading across his face. “I want to be a dinosaur drawer when I grow up.”
“Paleoartist,” his dad gently corrects, ruffling his hair.
“Yeah, that!” Tommy nods enthusiastically.
As we chat with the boys, Emilia hovers in the background, snapping photos and jotting notes. I force myself to stay present, to keep the conversation light and fun.
“What do you say we suit these guys up properly?” I pull two child-sized jerseys from the bag Nate hands me. “Can’t have Defenders fans without the right gear.”
As I help Fred into his jersey, I feel Sophie’s eyes on me again. It’s not the usual appreciative gaze I’m used to. This feels different, like she’s trying to see me.
“You’re really good at this,” she says softly, helping Tommy with his jersey.
I shrug, aiming for casual. “They’re just jerseys.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Before I can deflect—my usual go-to when things get too real—Tommy pipes up. “Are you going to win the Cup this year?”
The innocent question lands heavier than it should. These kids, with their unwavering faith. Sometimes the weight of everyone’s expectations feels like it might crush me.
“We’re sure gonna try, buddy,” I tell him, forcing a confident grin.
But when I glance at Sophie, her green eyes are too perceptive, too knowing. She caught the crack in my armor, and something about the way she looks at me makes it clear she’s not fooled by the act.
“Liam’s the best player on the team,” Jack declares proudly. “He’s gonna score lots of goals.”
“No pressure or anything,” I joke, but the words feel thin.
Because that’s the thing about being the best—everyone expects you to stay that way. One slip, one wrong move, and it all comes crashing down. Just like watching Dad’s career end in a burning building or seeing Mom’s face when she thought we couldn’t afford cello lessons for my sister.
The weight of it presses down, threatening to pull me under .
“I think,” Sophie says, her voice cutting clean through the spiral in my head, “that Liam wants you to remember hockey is a team sport. Right?” She glances at me, her tone gentle but certain. “It’s not about being the best alone; it’s about making everyone around you better.”
I blink, surprised. Most people eat up the solo star narrative—the captain who carries the team on his back.
“Your dad teach you that?” I ask, aiming to lighten the moment.
“No.” Her smile is soft and disarming. “I learned it watching you play.”
And just like that, I take another hit. A clean, devastating blow straight to the chest. Because Sophie Novak doesn’t just see through my walls, she makes me want to tear them down myself.
Dangerous waters, O’Connor.
Before I can say something stupid, a nurse steps into the room, her expression warm as she kneels beside Jack. “Time to go back to your room, little man.”
Jack sighs dramatically, tugging on my sleeve, his big, hopeful eyes locking on mine. “Will you come back and visit us again?”
I crouch down to his level, feeling my heart swell. “How about this: you get well real soon, and then you come cheer us on at the Garden. You too, Fred and Tommy.”
His face lights up.
With one last round of hugs and high-fives, we say goodbye to the boys. “We’re counting on you to come watch us play,” I tell them, glancing over at Sophie as we step into the hallway. The soft light catches the waterfall of her hair, and I feel a rush of heat seep into my muscles.
I need to get this girl to go out with me .
As we make our way toward the next room, I catch Nate’s eye. “Hey, man. Cover for me? I need a minute with Sophie.”
He frowns, shaking his head like I’ve lost it. “Are you sure you want to go there, Captain? Coach will end you if he finds out you’re sniffing around his baby girl.”
“I know what Coach will do,” I reply, running a frustrated hand through my hair. “Just…help me out, will you? I need a few minutes alone with her to get her phone number.”
Nate lets out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dude, I get it, she’s beautiful. But you really think it’s worth the risk?”
I clap him on the shoulder, my grin widening. “Absolutely. I’ll handle Coach.”
He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “Alright, lover boy. I’ll do what I can to distract Emilia and Jess. But if Novak comes looking for you, I had nothing to do with this. You’re on your own.”
“Appreciate it.”
We rejoin the group, and my eyes immediately seek out Sophie. She’s animatedly talking to Emilia, her face lighting up as she describes one of the kids we just visited. A fresh wave of desire crashes over me, strong enough to make my carefully crafted composure slip for a second.
That ice bath after practice is gonna hit differently today.
But as we work our way down the hallway, the universe seems hell-bent on cock blocking me. Every time I try to approach her, someone demands my attention. First, Jessica wants my input on a social media post. Then it’s a group of nurses who want a picture with Nate and me. Then it’s a kid showing me his hockey cards.
I play my part, smiling for the cameras, signing autographs, being the Liam O’Connor everyone expects. But my eyes keep drifting back to Sophie.
The way she kneels to a child’s level when they speak. How her laugh carries down the hallway, warm and unrestrained. The gentle way she coaxes shy kids into conversations.
She’s real in a way that makes my carefully built image feel paper-thin.
Nate catches my eye from across the hallway, shrugging apologetically. I know he’s trying to give me an opening, but time is running out. We’ve been through five rooms already, and we’re nearing the end of the visit.
Just as I’m starting to consider a different strategy for getting her number, Nate gives me a subtle nod. Now or never.
He smoothly inserts himself between Jessica and Emilia, steering the conversation toward the upcoming charity auction.
I don’t hesitate.
I seize my chance, reaching out to gently grasp Sophie’s arm.
She turns, startled, her emerald eyes going wide. A soft gasp escapes her lips, and for a moment, I’m completely lost in the depths of her gaze.
“Liam, what—” she starts, but I don’t let her finish.
With a gentle tug, I pull her into a quiet hallway, away from the others.