Page 20 of One Shot

Lucas has a cocky, crooked grin on his face. That grin makes him look like a model. Anyone would want to jump his bones if they sawthat grin. “Deal. Tell me what to do, Photographer Lauren. Make me look good for the fans.”

He skates away, giving me a cocky, exaggerated wink.

Lucas and I spend the next half-hour having him skate slowly towards me. He’s cracking jokes and making even worse kid-like silly faces now, trying to make me laugh. Boy, does he succeed. I finally convince him to stop goofing around. I sit down on the ice.

“Come at me from the left side. A little slower than normal speed. Keep your eyes about an inch above the camera, look at the top of my head, don’t look down at the puck.”

“Yes, Photographer Laur.” He salutes me and goes to the edge of the ice. “Gimme a thumbs up when you want me to go, please, photographer.”

I give him the thumbs up, and he skates to me faster than I expect. Damn, he’s got some speed. I can’t wait to see him play for the first time. The chilly air gets to me as I sit on the cold ice, asking him to skate toward me a few more times from different directions. The world falls away as I capture him in his element.

Lucas reaches down to help me up, grabbing my forearms. I’m pressed up against his chest again. I pull away quickly, hearing a few players walk into the locker room. Practice must be starting soon. Have we really been taking photos for an hour?

“One more. This time, you stand up, and I’ll skate straight towards you from center ice. That perfect booty is probably colder than the ice by now from sitting that long.”

My jaw almost drops. Did he really just say that? He is now shamelessly flirting. Lucas Donato thinks my ass is perfect.

“Ready for me?”

Does he always have to ask if I’m ready for him? It’s like he’s inside my head and knows all the sexual things I think every time I see him shirtless, or his body is close to mine.

“Earth to Lauren!”

I give him a thumbs up, and take ten rapid fire shots. Lucas comes up behind me as I scroll through my camera. My back is almost flush against him. I scoot away a few inches before I stupidly let my desire overtake my brain.

“So why do you come early to practice by yourself?”

I’m curious about Lucas’ answer. I know Nick used to do that.

“I like hockey, I guess,” Lucas says, making another ridiculous face at the camera. I give him a sassy ‘are you kidding me’ look.

“I want to be the best I can be. As cheesy as it sounds, I’ve always felt the most myself and at home on the ice. This game is my heart. Some of the guys last year used to do it, so I started also.”

Does he mean Nick? I’m not sure if I want to know. The way he describes his drive and passion for hockey reminds me of my brother.Nick. Somehow, I have managed to hold myself together this long. I change the subject as I click through some of the shots.

“These are actually great.”

“That was a lot more fun than I thought I would have practicing by myself. I guess we’ll be spending a lot of quality time together today. You’ll have to send me some of those pictures. Don’t post anywhere. Please. I look like I’m learning how to flirt with girls for the first time. Those are for your eyes only.”

I stifle a giggle again before my face scrunches in confusion. What is he talking about?

“Quality time?”

“The Beer Olympics. Didn't Bren or Liam tell you the four of us are a team? See you there, Laur!” Lucas skates off to chat with some of the team.

No, Lucas, Bren conveniently left that part out.

I look at my camera to see the last photos of Lucas skating toward me straight on. In all of them, he is looking directly at the camera with that cocky crooked grin of his. He must have purposely looked straight on instead of above the camera, so it seems like he’s making eye contact with me when I look at thephotos.

Shit. Bren better hope she isn’t home when I get there. But now I really need her help picking an outfit since I failed to make her or Jaylin help me last night. At least my Amazon order should be coming in.

Chapterthirteen

Laur

Lucky for me and unlucky for her, Bren is sitting on the couch when I get home.

“Brenna Marie Martinez!” I wouldn’t be surprised if our neighbors could hear me. “Why did you not tell me that the Beer Olympics team isnotyou, me, and Liam?”

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