Page 29 of Yule Know It When You See It
“Sorry. Did I miss something?” I ask, still pressing my hand against the deskandtapping my finger.
The giggles subside, Simone dabs tears from the corner of her eyes and pats my cheek like the sweetest of summer children. “Oh, Sports. You’ve both completely missed the point. You’re supposed to be writing a storytogether. Make the sports side authentic enough to be published on NHL’s website.” She points her phone at me. “And as far as the romance? She writes it, sure, but you’re telling me you’ve never been in a relationship?”
“I—” I am rendered speechless.
Simone wants us to co-author a piece? I’ve never done it, let alone in a genre I’m unfamiliar with and with a woman I’minterestedin now.
“Sounds like you two have a lot of work to do after the game to meet your deadline. I suggest you figure out a new approach.” Simone snaps her gaze to Theo, who jolts in her chair and slaps her hands on her keyboard. “Because this whole dazedly staring at your screens all day routine like lost puppies? It endstoday.”
And just like that, Simone hands me my own balls in a burlap sack.
I stand motionless, waiting for Simone to leave, but she snaps her fingers. “I meant now, Sports.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Clearing my throat, I snatch a notebook and pen.
Theo’s hands grip her chair’s armrests, eyes unblinking and borderline terrified. “What the hell happened over there?”
There’s no reason I can’t have a little fun with this, right?
“Listen. We’re supposed to be working on this together, and as far as I can tell, all I have is a few bumbling sentences on hockey, and you—” I lean past her, reveling in the way her knees press together beneath her desk the closer I get. “—have written nothing?”
She taps her pen in a familiar staccato. Carol of the Bells, maybe? “It’s a new Word doc. I wasn’t feeling the previous draft.”
“Oh, yeah?” I press a hip to her desk, still close enough to notice the light pink flushing her cheeks. “How did it start?”
“The—” Her jade eyes pin me, her teeth idly nibbling her bottom lip. “The ice rink.”
An ice rink. The exact location of our “almost kiss.”
“Do they go together, or did one show up after the other?” I open the notepad, pretending to jot scribbles.
She turns her chair to face me, the pen sliding through two fingers as she flips it from point to end. “The heroine is surprised to find the hero already there—skating.”
Electricity fizzles in the air between us, and I slide closer, shifting a knee to rest on the desk. Theo’s throat bobs, and the pen flipping speed increases.
“Why is she surprised?” I ask, drawing stick figures on the blank page.
“She’s yet to learn much about him. And ispleasantlysurprised it’s an interest they share.”
My heart thunders in my chest. “And does shewantto know more about him?”
“At this point in the story, it’s the ‘could this work?’ beat.” She stands and joins me, sitting on the desk.
“So, she’s past the denial stage?” I swirl my pen on the paper, using the pattern to keep my sanity in check.
Theo nods, her gaze falling to my beard before making a lazy trail back to my eyes. “But she’s questioning things. Guarding this.” She traces a single finger over her left breast, and I’m fully aware she’s referencing her heart, but I can’t help staring at her porcelain skin.
How smooth is it to the touch? Did it flush pink like her neck and cheeks when aroused? How would her breasts feel cupped by my hands? In my mouth?
And when my salacious thoughts cause semi-wood to form in my pants, I push from the desk, acting aloof. “And what happens next in your story?”
“They skate, they laugh. She trips, but he catches her.” Theo shifts on the desk, resting her hands in her lap as if she doesn’t know what else to do with them. “And then—”
Theo entices my gaze, and such radiance glints in her eyes it makes my stomach tighten at the sight of it. “They almost—” I slide forward until our knees touch.
“They almost—” Her slender fingers are brushing my pants. “Kiss,” she whispers.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be at a hockey game?” Simone’s voice booms like a thunderclap from her office. “Puck drop is in an hour.”
