The Pucking Player

22. The Setup Part Two

22

THE SETUP: PART TWO

SOPHIE

Y ou know that feeling when your stomach drops like you’re on a roller coaster, but instead of being strapped into a fun ride, you’re stuck in your own personal nightmare?

Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel when my dad’s name pops up on my phone screen.

“Hey, Daddy,” I answer, trying to sound chipper. “What’s cooking, good-looking?” I chirp, trying to be playful. But he doesn’t bite.

“Sophie, sweetheart.” His voice is warm but with an ominous undercurrent. Or is this just my imagination? “I was hoping you could join me for lunch at the Defenders’ complex today.”

Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

This is it. He knows. He totally knows about me and Liam. I’m about to be exiled to a convent where I’ll have to shave my head and take a vow of silence.

“Um, lunch?” I squeak, my voice about three octaves higher than normal. “Today? I, uh, I have class and?— ”

“It won’t take long,” he interrupts, and I can practically hear his eyebrows furrowing. “It’s important, baby girl.”

I glance at my watch, doing some quick mental gymnastics to figure out if I can squeeze in lunch without missing the labs. “Okay, Daddy,” I sigh, resigned to my fate. “I can swing by, but I can’t stay too long.”

“Perfect,” he exhales, sounding satisfied. “I’ll see you at noon.”

Is this how it feels to be scheduled for your execution?

Ok. Calm down, Sophie. Dramatic much?

I mean, it shouldn’t matter if he found out about Liam and me. After all, I’m planning to distance myself from him anyway. And after the way I bolted out of his apartment yesterday morning like my ass was on fire, he probably wants nothing to do with me anymore.

Still, as I make my way to the training complex, I can’t shake off the knot in my stomach.

But hey, maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Daddy just wants to have a nice father-daughter lunch. Maybe he wants to discuss the weather, or the latest developments in enzyme kinetics, or literally anything other than Liam O’Connor.

Yeah, right. And maybe I’ll win the Nobel Prize in Medicine before I even finish med school.

As I approach the Defenders building, my heart thunders in my chest, my palms sweaty. And let’s not even talk about the gymnastics routine my stomach is performing.

I take a deep breath, trying to channel my inner Zen master.

It doesn’t work.

Shocking, I know.

With legs that feel like they’re made of Jello, I approach Dad’s office. My hand hovers over the doorknob for a moment, and I briefly consider making a run for it. But like a mature adult, I open the door.

And promptly feel like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.

There, sitting around my dad’s desk, are Liam and Jessica. They’re casually unwrapping brown paper bags as if this is just an ordinary lunch meeting.

Jessica looks up and beams at me, holding out a sandwich. “Hey, sis! I got your favorite—turkey and avocado on whole grain. With sprouts, just the way you like it.”

I raise my eyebrows and take the bag, questioningly eyeing her. She gives me a reassuring nod.

My eyes dart to Liam, and he gives me a small smile that makes my insides do a triple axel.

“Well,” I mumble as I settle into my chair, trying to keep my voice steady. “This is...nice. And unexpected.”

Understatement of the century.

I take a tentative bite, and it’s like trying to swallow a cotton ball. Meanwhile, Liam’s lounging in his chair, all relaxed confidence and effortless charm. He’s not looking at me, and I can tell it’s deliberate. His jaw is set in that annoyingly attractive way, and he’s radiating an aura of cool composure that makes me want to simultaneously admire him and dump my water over his perfectly styled hair.

He takes a bite of his own lunch—probably something manly like a steak sandwich or a whole roasted chicken. How can he be so calm? Is this a hockey player thing, or just a Liam O’Connor superpower?

Daddy clears his throat, and I brace myself. Here it comes. The lecture. The disappointment. The PowerPoint presentation on “Why Dating Hockey Players is Stupid.”

“Sophie, thanks for coming on such short notice,” he starts, drawing out the words reluctantly. He pauses, darting his eyes to Liam, then back at me. “The PEDs scandal seems to be calming down now that you and Liam are all over social media.”

Wait, what?

I sneak a glance at Liam, and he’s looking right at my dad. He’s the picture of easy confidence. There’s a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and I swear I can see amusement dancing in his eyes.

He catches me looking and raises his eyebrows at me. How dare he be so composed when I’m over here having an internal meltdown? It’s infuriating.

And maybe a little bit hot.

Daddy continues, his words coming out like he’s chewing on lemons, “It’s...helping the team’s image.”

The reluctance in his voice is so thick you could skate on it. I’m pretty sure this is physically painful for him to say.

Before I can process this bizarre turn of events, Jessica swoops in like the PR ninja that she is. “The betting against the Defenders has calmed down,” she chirps, sounding way too chipper for this awkward luncheon. “And I’m not hearing grumbles from sponsors anymore either. So clearly,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “we should continue doing what we’re doing.”

I nearly choke on my sprouts.

Continue?

As in, keep pretending to date Liam?

As in, more time with Mr. Blue Eyes and Killer Abs?

As in, torture myself with what I can’t have because I’m trying to focus on my future?

I glance at Liam again, and this time he’s looking right at me, those blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that makes my insides turn to jelly. There’s no question in his gaze, just a calm assurance that says he’s got this whole situation under control. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that makes his biceps bulge.

Not distracting at all.

His entire posture screams ‘bring it on,’ like this whole fake dating scenario is just another game he’s determined to win.

And suddenly, I’m not sure if I’m more flustered by the idea of continuing this charade or by how unfairly good Liam looks while we’re discussing it.

Stupid, sexy, confident hockey player.

I take another bite of my sandwich. Daddy clears his throat again. “Sophie, sweetheart,” he starts, and I brace for impact. “This arrangement won’t interfere with your studies, will it? Being seen with Liam a few more times?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. Probably because my brain is too busy short-circuiting at the idea of my father actually encouraging me to spend time with Liam O’Connor.

Jessica, ever the opportunist, pounces on my silence. “Of course it won’t interfere, Dad,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Sophie can handle this. Right, Soph?”

I shoot her a glare, but she just grins back, unperturbed. “Besides,” Jessica continues, “it’s not like they need to be together twenty-four-seven. Just a few strategic appearances. Liam?”

We all turn to look at him. He’s been suspiciously quiet this whole time,wearing that infuriating small smile, looking for all the world like he’s enjoying every second of this meeting.

“Of course,” he offers smoothly, his voice warm honey. “I’d be happy to help out.” He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. “As long as Sophie’s comfortable with it. ”

And then he winks at me. Right in front of my dad and sister.

I’m pretty sure my face is now hot enough to melt the ice at Madison Square Garden.

“I...uh...” I stammer, trying to remember how words work. “I guess I could manage a few more...appearances.”

Daddy nods, looking like he just swallowed a particularly sour lemon. Jessica leans back into her chair, satisfied. Liam just keeps looking pleased with himself.

Great. I’ve just agreed to continue fake dating the hottest guy I’ve ever met, who I’m also trying to avoid.

Jessica claps her hands together, looking far too excited for someone who’s essentially orchestrating her sister’s fake love life. “Okay, so we need to come up with a few ‘date’ ideas.”

I resist the urge to bang my head on the table.

“How about dinner in the city?” Jessica suggests, her eyes lighting up. “Somewhere trendy, lots of paparazzi. Oh! And then you could hit up a club afterward. Show off those dance moves, Liam.”

Liam grins, all easy charm and confidence. “Sounds good to me. I know just the place—great food, even better music. What do you say, Sophie? Ready to paint the town red?”

I open my mouth to protest, to say something about early morning classes and responsible pre-med students not clubbing on weeknights. But then I make the mistake of looking into those blue eyes, and suddenly I’m nodding in agreement.

“Great!” Jessica chirps, already tapping away on her phone. “On Friday we’re leaving for California for a couple of days for your away games, so let’s squeeze it in before then. I’ll set it up for Thursday night. ”

Daddy clears his throat, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now.

“Right, well,” he mumbles reluctantly.

Meanwhile, Liam’s grin widens. “Don’t worry, Coach. I’ll take good care of her.”

The way he says it, low and full of promise, sends tingles down my back.

Oh boy. What have I gotten myself into?

A fake date with Liam O’Connor, that’s what. Dinner, dancing, and trying desperately not to think about how good he looks in a suit or how his hands felt buried in my pussy.

Yep, just another ordinary day.

Someone please pass me a hockey stick. I think I’m gonna need to whack some sense into myself.