Pucking Sweet: An MMF Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 3)
Pucking Sweet: Chapter 38

Olivia Rodrigo plays on my wireless speaker as I stuff tissue paper into glittery pink gift bags. Violet’s bachelorette party is this weekend, and I’m not finished prepping the gifts. Little piles of cosmetics and face masks and silky pajama sets surround me on the floor as I rush to assemble a bag for each girl.

There are some naughty gifts too. Everyone is going home with a new vibrator. And I picked up some sample packets of fruity lube and some penis candy necklaces. There’s also a handful of rainbow penis confetti in each bag.

Is this all still weird and awkward and painful? Yes.

But I’m Poppy St. James, and these party favors are going to be fabulous.

I planned the bachelorette party as an overnight trip to St. Augustine. It’ll be twenty-four hours stuck with my little sister and six of her brattiest friends talking about how wonderful it is that she’s marrying my awful ex. The only silver lining is that Tina is coming. I know because I invited her. I don’t think I’ll survive this weekend without her. She texted me last week with a screenshot of the invite saying, “You fucking kidding me, bitch?” I sent back a string of twenty begging GIFs until she finally relented with, “Fine. But you’re paying for my flight.”

Fastest two hundred bucks I ever spent.

I have a few special gifts for her bag. Instead of a vibrator, I got her a dildo shaped like a rainbow unicorn horn. And a ball gag. And her lube is cinnamon bun flavored. I smile as I collect her little pile of gifts off to the side, away from the others.

A knock at my door has me turning. Who the heck would be here at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night? Getting to my feet, I trot over to the door and bounce up on my toes, peeking through the peephole. I gasp, pushing away from the door with both hands.

Colton is outside my door.

Oh god, what is he doing here? It’s been two weeks since the beach, and things between us are still so tense. That night, he told me I was his endgame. Then he demanded I shut off all my feelings for Lukas like I’m a freaking faucet. Then he didn’t show up to my charity event, even though he signed up to attend. He sent me a text later saying his mom had a fall. Something about a concussion?

Since he got back from Pittsburgh, I’ve been bumping into him everywhere—the practice rink, the coffee cart, even twice at the grocery store. He smiles, he engages me in conversation, he listens with his whole body, and then he walks away as if the beach never happened.

He said it, right? He told me he wanted to love me and marry me and follow me to the ends of the earth. That happened?

Oh god. I don’t know if I have the strength to deal with this right now.

But I’m also too dang curious not to open the door.

My curiosity wins.

“Colton, hi.”

His dark eyes widen, almost as if he’s surprised I answered. He looks as good as ever, relaxed and comfortable in some Rays workout gear. He’s got a five o’clock shadow that looks delicious on him. Is he growing his beard out?

“Hey, Poppy,” he replies, his gaze trailing me up and down.

That’s the one thing that hasn’t changed. He can’t help but look at me. It makes me shiver every time. I wish I was wearing something cuter than these kitty cat pajama shorts and my faded, slouchy “Mrs. Darcy” sweatshirt. “Need to borrow a cup of sugar?”

He smiles. “Nah, I’m good.”

I wait, holding onto the door. Inviting him in feels like a colossal mistake that will just end with me naked.

“I didn’t know how to do this without sending you all the wrong signals again,” he finally says. “But I feel like I really need to clarify something.”

Oh heavens, he wants to have a relationship talk now? Keeping a smile on my face, I crack the door open a little bit. “Do you want to come in?”

A hint of panic flashes across his face. “Uhh…no. I think it’s best if I stay out here.”

“You don’t want to come in?”

He groans, stepping back to grab the handrail with both hands. “Poppy, I want to come into that apartment more than I want fucking air. But maybe you could just come out here instead. Would that be cool?”

So, this is about mutual restraint? A test of wills? “Sure.” I step out, shutting the door with a soft click. “Better?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, not letting go of the handrail.

I wait for him to speak, arms folded over my chest, hugging myself inside my sweatshirt.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for what happened at the beach,” he says. “I was spun up, maybe even a little drunk, and I said some shit I didn’t mean. Actually, a lot of shit I didn’t mean. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take it back.”

“You want to take it back?”

He nods.

“Which part?”

“All of it. Is that possible? But especially the part about the ultimatum. That was selfish and unfair. You are your own person, Pop, with your own feelings and life and romantic connections that you’re free to make with whomever you choose. I don’t get to have a say in what you do, and I definitely don’t get to be upset about it. I was a jerk, I was wrong, and I’m apologizing.”

Well, this is unexpected.

“I hope I can earn your forgiveness, maybe even gain back your trust too. And since actions speak louder than words . . . here.” He slips his hand inside his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. Reaching out across the breezeway, he hands it to me.

I unfold it, quickly scanning what looks like an online receipt. “What is this?”

“I had Novy place bids for me on some of the stuff at your silent auction,” he explains. “I won this. It’s a sunset cruise down in St. Augustine. I was going to invite you to go with me, but now I’m just giving it to you.”

“Colton—”

“I think you should take Novy.”

My heart skips. “You do?”

“Yeah, he’s never been on a boat, I don’t think. More importantly, he’s never been courted by a woman of your caliber. He’s a good guy, Poppy. Under all the bravado and bullshit. He’s not easy to love, but you’re trying anyway, and I think that’s commendable.”

My mind feels fuzzy, like someone’s spinning cotton candy inside it. “You think it’s commendable that I’m fighting my attraction to another man?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “And you don’t have to keep fighting it on my account. You could do a lot worse than Lukas Novikov.”

“Oh, trust me, I have,” I say, folding up the paper and slipping it in the pocket of my shorts. My heart is racing as I glance up. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me. “Is this you telling me you’re bowing out? Do you cede victory?”

In a single step, he crosses the breezeway, backing me against my apartment door. He’s so close, his woodsy scent enveloping me. But he’s not touching me. My body is screaming with the need for connection, but instead he hovers, not taking what both of us so clearly want.

“I’m not bowing out of a goddamn thing,” he says, his voice low.

I tip my head back, palms flat against the door. Heart on my sleeve, I say exactly what I’m thinking. “Please tell me I haven’t lost you before I ever even got the chance to try for you.”

His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. The moment our skin touches, a charge of electricity jolts through me. I’m magnetized by him, locked in place through this point of sacred contact. “I haven’t gone anywhere,” he says, kissing my brow. I arch up on my toes, seeking more contact. His hand smooths over my cheek and around until he’s burying his fingers in my French-braided pigtail. “Poppy, baby, I’m right here.”

My hands fist his T-shirt as I pull him closer. I drop my forehead to the middle of his chest and breathe him in. His arms wrap around me, one at my shoulders and the other at my waist, and we just hold each other. I feel moored to him. “Do you want to come in?” I say again, meaning it this time.

He groans. I feel it rumble against my chest. Then he pulls away, cupping my cheeks with both hands. His gaze is soft as he smiles down at me. “I would love nothing more…but you need to talk to Novy first.”

I lean away, my hand wrapping around his wrist. “Why? What happened?”

He shakes his head. “Just square everything with him, then come replace me. I’ll still be waiting.” His words echo what he said on the beach. Only this time, they hold the promise of more.

Pressing one more kiss to my forehead, he walks away.