“You’re not wrong, but she’s right, too. You are a pretty good coach.” Christensen looked away, down toward the empty goal. “I’ve been working on the play for weeks. This is the first time it felt right.” He cleared his throat and started toward the tunnel leading to the locker room. “Thanks, Petrov.”

“Anytime,” he shot after him, taken aback when he realized he meant it.

What if his mom was right? Maybe Christensen did have a side to this story. A very feminine laugh yanked his attention away from that unpleasant thought. Shelby was back, this time chatting with Lucy in the stands. He couldn’t have looked away if he’d been run over by the Zamboni.

Because he was staring, he was looking right at her when she tried to sneak a peek at him, her cheeks going pink the moment she realized she’d gotten caught. Her fingers went immediately to her lips, as if she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss, either.

Makes two of us, sweetheart. So what are we going to do about it?

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Shelby was going to hyperventilate and pass out alone, all because of one stupid headline and an out-of-context pic. She wasn’t even out of her softest cotton nightgown and hadn’t started the hotel room coffee maker, but she was 100 percent fully awake at the ungodly hour of six a.m. thanks to her social media notifications going on a buzzing spree. Ignoring the sound would have been the best plan. Then again, so would sticking to her original plan of not lusting after one Ian Petrov. That hadn’t worked out, either.

So in a move that would surprise absolutely no one, she’d looked.

Secret Brothers Share More Than Just Their Famous Hockey Dad?

Underneath the headline on the sleaziest hockey gossip site on the entire internet was a photo of Ian, Alex, and her in Chicago last night. She had no idea what they’d been talking about when the picture had been taken, but at first glance it definitely looked like there was more to last night’s dinner than just deep dish. It was cropped so the viewer couldn’t see the other table with the rest of the team sitting at it. Also, the angle was shooting downward so it looked like the V-neck of her shirt went deeper than it did. And whatever filter or magic the photographer had used to make it look like Ian was gazing adoringly at her as Alex refilled her water glass without a doubt made it seem as if they were at an intimate dinner for three.