Romancing the Grump: A Sweet Hockey Romcom by Jenny Proctor

Author:Jenny Proctor [Proctor, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JPC Publishing
Published: 2024-04-23T00:00:00+00:00

WHAT ON EARTH, SUMMER. YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE FAKING. YOU DID NOT TELL ME FAKING WOULD INVOLVE KISSING.

It’s rare for Lucy to put an entire text in all caps, but after what happened last night, it feels totally justified. I would have called her with an update the minute I was back at the hotel after the game, but she was already at work—she’s been working nights for the past few weeks—and the news felt too big to simply send in a text.

I glance at my watch. We arrived a few minutes early, and we still have ten minutes before our scheduled meeting time, so I motion to Riley, letting her know I’m going to make a call just outside, then hurry out to the small seating area in the annex.

“I should have mentioned the kiss,” I say the second Lucy picks up. I eye one of the egg chairs I noticed earlier. There are cushions inside, but I’m not sure I trust it. How will I not feel like a hatchling, hanging out inside of my egg?

Tentatively, I turn and sit…and oof. Okay. This was definitely a mistake. I am a hatchling, and this chair has basically swallowed me whole.

I’m not exactly short—almost 5’8—and my feet are no longer touching the ground. They’re just dangling. Like I’m a child sitting on an enormous sofa.

“You okay?” Lucy asks.

“I’m sitting in a ridiculous chair.”

“Go on,” she says, humor in her voice. “Clearly, your chair situation is much more important than the kissing thing, so please, tell me more about the chair.”

“It’s one of those weird egg chairs. I’m about to have a very serious meeting. What if they have these in the conference room? How does anyone have a professional conversation when they’re sitting in an egg chair?”

“You can always stand,” Lucy says.

“I’m sending you a picture of this thing,” I say. “It’s totally ridiculous. My feet are dangling.”

Lucy chuckles. “I’m loving the visual. Please make the picture a selfie. But I wasn’t actually serious when I told you to talk about the chair instead of the man.”

I sink back into my egg. If someone were to see me from the outside, they would only see my dangling legs, but I ignore that ridiculous image and take a deep breath. “What do you want to know? His fans were crazy, I thought it might help, so…I told him to kiss me.”

“Okay, but…Summer, he really kissed you. And you really kissed him back. That did not look like faking. And that moment before the game when you got all googly-eyed through the glass? How are you not going to fall for him for real?” she asks. “The internet can’t stop talking about how perfect you two are.”

It takes me a long time to answer because I don’t actually have an answer. I probably am going to fall for him. It’s stupid and reckless and completely unlike me in every sense. But I don’t know how to stop it from happening.

“I think I probably will fall for him,” I say.

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