25. Extra Hot, Just Like Her
25
EXTRA HOT, JUST LIKE HER
LIAM
T he first hint of dawn is barely touching the sky when I blink awake, Sophie’s warm body is curled against mine like she was made to fit there. Her dark hair spills across my chest, and she makes this tiny snuffling sound in her sleep that absolutely wrecks me.
The bedside clock reads six forty-five. She has her anatomy class at nine—a fact I know because I’ve memorized her schedule like some lovesick teenager. We only got to sleep around three in the morning, after round two left us both deliciously exhausted.
I should feel tired. Instead, I’m buzzing with this weird energy that has nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with how right this feels. Falling asleep with her in my arms, waking up to her soft breathing.
But the sneaking around and PR stunt lies are eating at me in ways I never expected. Coach Novak isn’t just Sophie’s father—he’s the man who took a chance on me as captain, who saw leadership potential in me. He’s turned me into the player I am, taught me about responsibility, about carrying the weight of the team on my shoulders .
And here I am, betraying his trust. Sophie deserves better than being my secret. Better than having to pretend we’re just for show. And Coach deserves better than lies from the player he’s mentored like a son.
The man might actually murder me when he finds out, and I wouldn’t even blame him. But at least I’ll face him as the stand-up guy he taught me to be. Time to own up to falling in love with his daughter, consequences be damned.
Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? Love.
Sophie stirs slightly as I ease out of bed but settles when I press a kiss to her temple. I dress silently, watching her burrow deeper into the warm spot I left behind. The sight does dangerous things to my heart.
The icy February morning slams with a force when I step outside. The campus is eerily quiet at this hour, just a few dedicated joggers and some seriously caffeine-deprived students shuffling toward early labs. My breath puffs out in little clouds as I jog toward the campus coffee shop, already thinking about the smile on Sophie’s face when she wakes up to her favorite drink.
Oat milk cappuccino, extra hot, light foam.
I’ve got her coffee order memorized. Along with the way she scrunches her nose when she studies, how she color-codes her notes by subject, and the exact spot on her neck that makes her gasp when I kiss it.
I am so completely gone for this girl.
The coffee shop is just opening, warm light spilling onto the frost-covered sidewalk. Inside, the baristas are still setting up for the day, the smell of fresh coffee mixing with the quiet buzz of early morning ritual. The girl at the counter does a double-take when she sees me.
“You’re—”
“Just a guy getting coffee for his girl,” I say with what I hope is a charming, please-don’t-post-this-on-social-media smile. “Oat milk cappuccino, extra hot, light foam. And a black coffee.”
As I wait for the drinks, I scroll through my phone to find the team group chat already active.
[Nate]: Anyone else notice our captain looking like a lovesick puppy every time Coach’s daughter shows up at practice?
[Logan]: You mean every time she “happens” to be studying in the rink café?
[Caleb]: Better than Finn inviting Jessica for coffee and getting shut down.
[Finn]: It was a perfectly normal thing to ask!
[Mason]: Coffee isn’t a date, bro. Even O’Connor knows better than that.
[Aiden]: Speaking of our fearless leader—taking bets on how long until Coach figures out Liam’s IN LOVE.
[Dmitri]: The way he stares at her? I give it a week. Maybe less.
[Logan]: Remember when our captain used to be smooth? Now he trips over his own feet whenever she walks by.
[Adam]: I swear to God, O’Connor, if you’re anywhere near my sister right now...
[Nate]: Relax, it’s 7am. Even Liam’s not dumb enough to...
If only they knew.
But they will soon. Because I’m done hiding. Done pretending Sophie is just a PR move. Time to face the music. And by music, I mean Coach’s inevitable explosion when he finds out I’ve been secretly dating his daughter.
Defiling his daughter, as I’m sure he’ll put it.
The walk back is quicker, like even my feet know where they want to be. The sun is properly up now, painting the old brick buildings in soft gold. A few more students are trickling out of the dorms, clutching travel mugs and looking varying degrees of zombie-like.
But all I can think about is getting back to my girl. About watching her wake up slowly, the way she blinks at me all soft and sleep-rumpled. About telling her that I’m ready to risk her father’s fury.
The perfect croissants were a lucky find on my way back. The little bakery next to the coffee shop was just pulling them out of the oven. I also grabbed us twoof the green smoothies Sophie’s mentioned. Something about antioxidants and brain food. It will be a perfect pre-training snack for me too.
Back in her room, I ease onto the bed, setting breakfast on the nightstand. Sophie’s still curled up in the spot I slept, her face buried in a pillow. The sight of her, lying naked and tired from fucking, does things to my heart that no amount of hockey conditioning could prepare me for.
“Angel,” I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face. “Time to wake up.”
She makes this adorable grumbling sound and burrows deeper into the pillow.
“I brought coffee,” I tempt her, watching her nose twitch at the smell. “Extra hot, just the way you like it.”
One eye cracks open. “Oat milk?”
“What kind of amateur do you think I am?” I lean down to kiss her temple. “Also got a few fancy croissants. And the smoothie you love. Gotta get you in the zone for class.”
“Now you’re talking.” She grins, finally sitting up. The sight of her all sleep-rumpled, dark hair a mess, makes me want to forget about coffee and croissants entirely. “Did you get one for yourself? It’sa nutrient-dense superfood blend. It will be amazing for your workout.”
“I’m sure the team nutritionist will approve,” I say, pointing at my cup. “It’s eight already. You’ve got anatomy at nine.”
She takes a long sip of her complicated coffee, her eyes closing in bliss. “My hero.” Then she opens them again, studying me. “You went out. In public. To get me breakfast.”
“I did.”
“Someone could have seen you.”
I brush my thumb across her bottom lip. “Maybe that would be a good thing.”
Her breath catches. “Liam...”
“We need to tell him, Sophie. I don’t want to keep sneaking around like this. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“Everyone thinks that already.”
“ Including your father.”
She sets down her coffee, her eyes serious. “He’s going to lose his mind.”
“Probably.” I pull her into my lap. “But you’re worth it.”
She snuggles closer, and for a moment I allow myself to forget about everything else. The upcoming road trip. Coach’s murder plots. The fact that I need to be at the airport by two for our flight to LA.
“What time do you head out?” she asks, like she’s reading my mind.
“Team bus leaves at one.” I check my watch. “Three games in California. Kings, Sharks, Ducks.”
“That’s a lot of travel.”
“That’s hockey.” I press a kiss to her temple. “But I’ll have my good luck charm, won’t I?”
She pulls back, eyebrows raised. “Your good luck charm?”
I tug on the T-shirt she’s pulled on. “This. Though it would look way better on the floor. ”
“Good try, O’Connor.” She peels off her shirt, and to my utter disappointment, quickly snatches another one from her drawer.
I sprawl across her bed, watching her gather her books, already missing her. The discarded T-shirt still warm in my hands. “You sure you don’t want to skip class and come to California?”
“Right. Because that wouldn’t make my dad suspicious.” She shoulders her backpack. “Me suddenly showing up at away games. In the middle of my finals?” She leans down to kiss me, quick and soft. “Win your games, superstar. I’ll be watching.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Grabbing the coffee and smoothie from the nightstand, she flashes me that smile that makes me forget how to breathe. “Thanks for breakfast.”
She pauses at the door. “Take your time leaving. Jenna’s at the lab with me until eleven.” Another grin. “And Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let the Kings’ defense push you around. Your girlfriend’s got money on this game.”
I bring the shirt to my face after she leaves, breathing in her lingering scent.
Girlfriend.
Three days in California suddenly feels like an eternity.