The Pucking Player

Epilogue

EXTRA HOT EVER AFTER

Sophie

Turns out being a hockey girlfriend involves a lot of barbecues. Which is how I find myself at the Defenders’ end-of-playoff-run celebration, watching my boyfriend (fiancé? We’re still negotiating that timeline) work the grill like he works the ice.

“Your boy’s getting cocky with those burger flips,” Jenna comments, sprawled in the deck chair next to me. “Almost as cocky as when he showed up in Miami.”

“We’re not talking about Miami.” I adjust my Columbia Med sweater, pretending I don’t still think about that quick spring break getaway that turned into something else entirely. “I’m still mad at you for texting him our hotel details.”

“Please.” She tosses a cherry tomato at me. “You haven’t been mad since he showed up at our pool with that ridiculous grin of his.”

I catch the tomato, my own grin betraying me. Because she’s right—I haven’t been mad since that weekend. Not when Liam kept showing up at the library during finals with perfectly brewed oat milk cappuccinos. Not when he rearranged his training schedule to match my study breaks. Not even when he “accidentally” let it slip to the entire team that I got into Columbia’s MD/PhD program.

He catches my eye across the yard and winks, absurdly handsome. My heart does that stupid flutter thing. Apparently being together for months hasn’t changed that at all.

“You’re staring,” Jessica sing-songs, appearing with fresh drinks. “Again.”

“I am not.” But I definitely am. “How’s the PR machine handling our little scandal these days?”

“Please.” She settles into the chair on my other side. “You two are the best thing to happen to the Defenders’ image since Dmitri’s daughter started doing post-game interviews in Russian.”

As if on cue, a small blur of blond curls races past us, clutching what looks suspiciously like her father’s phone. Dmitri follows, calling out in Russian. Before he can catch up, Erin materializes from nowhere, scooping up little Ris with practiced ease. She hands the phone back to Dmitri, and something electric crackles between them before they both quickly look away. The moment’s gone so fast, I almost think I imagined it.

“Hey.” Liam’s suddenly behind me, his hands warm on my shoulders. “Are you guys talking about me?”

“You wish.” But I tilt my head back for his kiss, ignoring Jenna’s fake gagging sounds.

“Don’t encourage him,” Jessica warns as Liam drops a kiss on my head. “His ego’s already taking up half of Manhattan.”

“Only half?” He settles into the chair with me, pulling me into his lap. “I must be losing my touch. ”

“You’re burning the burgers,” I point out, even as I lean back against his chest.

“Let them burn.” His voice rumbles through me. “I’m comfortable.”

A chorus of protests erupts from the team, who’ve apparently been monitoring the grill situation. Finn swoops in to rescue what’s left of the burgers, coincidentally right as Jessica heads to the drink cooler nearby.

“Coffee tomorrow?” he asks, trying for casual as he flips a burger.

Jessica pulls out a sparkling water without looking at him. “Can’t. Busy with the media coverage for next week’s charity event.”

“Right.” His shoulders drop slightly. “Another time then.”

She heads back to us, and I catch the way her eyes flick to him before she settles into her chair.

“You two are ridiculous,” I mutter into my drink.

“What?” She arches one perfect eyebrow. “If he ever musters up the courage to ask me on a real date—not just coffee between meetings—I might actually say yes.”

“Is that so?” Jenna perks up.

“Yes. What are we? Like, twelve?” Jessica shrugs, but I catch the slight flush on her cheeks. “I need something that tells me he’s not just killing time between practices.”

“Speaking of epic romances,” Jenna pulls up her phone, clearly deciding to save her Jessica-torture for later, “have you seen the latest ESPN article? ‘How Love Saved the Defenders: The O’Connor-Novak Romance.’”

“Oh God.” I bury my face in Liam’s shoulder. “Please tell me they didn’t?—”

“They did.” She clears her throat dramatically. “‘Sources say O’Connor’s game has reached new heights since his center ice declaration of love. Could domestic bliss be the secret to his record-breaking season?’”

“I mean,” Liam’s chest shakes with laughter, “they’re not wrong.”

“Don’t you dare.” But I’m fighting a smile. “I had nothing to do with that hat trick last week.”

“Keep telling yourself that, angel.” His fingers find that spot on my hip that makes me squirm. “Pretty sure that Columbia sweater is my good luck charm.”

“Pretty sure you’re full of—” My phone buzzes. HealthFirst’s HR department flashes on screen. “Oh! I should take this.”

“Everything okay?” His arms tighten slightly.

“It’s about my summer internship.” I try to wiggle free, trying to look professional despite the fact that I’m sitting in my boyfriend’s lap at a team BBQ.

“Go handle your future medical empire.” He nudges me up. “I’ll go help with the burgers.”

“Get me one? A non-burned one?”

He flashes me a playful grin. “Depends on how fast you come back.” He glances at my phone, still buzzing. “And whether you convince them to sponsor the team next season. Those MRI machines aren’t going to buy themselves.”

“That’s not how corporate sponsorship works,” I call over my shoulder, already heading for a quieter spot.

“Pretty sure that’s exactly how it works!” he shouts back, because Liam O’Connor never lets anyone else have the last word.

Even if he’s wrong.

Even if he’s absurdly smug about it.

Even if I kind of love him for it.

I find a quiet spot near the back of the yard, where the sounds of the BBQ fade to background noise. Alan Bradshaw’s assistant sounds way too cheerful for someone working on a sunny Friday afternoon, rattling off details about orientation and paperwork and something about parking permits.

I’m nodding along, scribbling notes on a napkin, when familiar arms wrap around my waist.

“Important future doctor business?” Liam murmurs against my neck.

“You’re supposed to be helping with the grill.” But I lean back into him anyway.

“Finn’s got it. Apparently he’s trying to impress someone with his burger-flipping skills.”

“That someone being my sister, who’s currently critiquing his technique from a safe distance?”

“Got it in one.” His breath tickles my ear, his playoff beard scratching against my neck. “So, when do you start your corporate takeover of the medical equipment industry?”

“June fifteenth.” I turn in his arms. “And yes, I scheduled it late enough that I’ll be there when you hoist the Cup next week.”

“Getting confident there, Dr. Novak.”

“That’s not confidence, Mr. O’Connor.” I poke his chest. “That’s a threat. You better win after I rearranged my entire summer schedule around these playoffs. Plus, I’m kind of ready to see your face again under all that scruff.”

“Oh really?” His eyes spark with that dangerous glint. “Pretty sure I remember someone saying they liked the beard last night.”

“Shut up and go check on your burgers,” I mutter, but we both know I’m blushing .

That grin should come with a warning label and possibly a prescription. “Guess I better not disappoint then.”

“Guess you better not.”

“Break it up, lovebirds!” Adam’s voice carries across the yard. “Some of us are trying to eat!”

“Your burgers are burning!” I shout back.

“That’s Finn’s fault!”

“It is not!” Finn’s indignant protest makes Jessica laugh, which probably makes the burned burgers worth it.

Liam’s chest shakes with laughter. “Come on, angel. Let’s go save what’s left of this BBQ.”

“You just want to show off your grilling skills.”

“Maybe.” He tugs me toward the chaos. “Or maybe I just like having you close enough to distract.”

And really, how can I argue with that?

Later, when the burgers are nothing but crumbs and the team’s sprawled across the yard, Liam pulls me close against the early evening chill.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I never did thank you properly for choosing Columbia.”

“That stage dive after game four was thanks enough.” I turn in his arms, taking in the way the sunset catches his eyes. “Though the coffee deliveries during finals week didn’t hurt.”

“Just preserving my investment.” His fingers trace patterns on my hip. “Can’t have my personal physician failing anatomy.”

“First of all, I aced anatomy.” I poke his chest. “Second of all, I’m going into pediatrics.”

“Plans change, angel. I seem to remember someone swearing she’d never date a hockey player.”

“And I seem to remember someone promising to learn how to make a proper cappuccino. ”

“Extra hot, light foam.” His forehead touches mine. “I’d learn a lot more than coffee for you.”

And there it is—that thing that made me choose staying in New York. That makes all the crazy schedules and public scrutiny and Jessica’s knowing smirks worth it.

Because sometimes the best games are the ones you never saw coming.

Even if they come with burned burgers, nosy teammates, and a very smug captain who still taps his wrist after every goal.

Just to remind me where it all began.

THE END