Defender (Seattle Sharks 9)

“Harper, wait up!” I called, running barefoot down Connor’s sidewalk to catch her.

She turned, almost to her car, and her mouth dropped open. “Nathan?”

“Yeah, who did you think?” I shook my head because she was still staring at me like I was a cross between a desert and a mirage. “Why do you call me Nathan?”

She startled. “Oh. I guess because everyone calls you Noble, and it seems so...impersonal. I thought maybe you needed someone to call you by your first name. Plus, I don’t like it when people call me Thompson, so…” She shrugged.

“Got it. Look, I wanted to ask you something.”

She stepped backward and clutched her pool bag. “You couldn’t ask inside?”

“What? I mean, sure, I could have, but I didn’t really want to be overheard—”

“Stop. I’m stopping you right there.” She charged the few steps between us and put her hand on my chest. “Look, I feel it too, this insane chemistry. There’s zero doubt in my mind that our bodies would be incredibly compatible in just about every way possible.”

My jaw dropped.

“No,” she laid one finger across my lips, and it took everything I had not to trace it with my tongue. “Let me finish.”

Once I nodded, she removed her finger.

“Okay. I haven’t told anyone yet, but that job I mentioned? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And if I blow it, I can’t ever get it back. And it’s also located on the other side of the country.” Her forehead crinkled. “That means that as much as I’d love to explore whatever this pull is between us, I just can’t stand here and let you ask me out knowing that it can’t lead anywhere. I’ll be gone by graduation.”

“Is that all?” I asked, bemused.

“Well, other than the obvious thing that you’re an NHL player and I barely see the sun because I’m always in the lab. Plus that whole public life isn’t really for me. Oh, and that our best friends are getting married, which would just make everything messy, right?” She looked up at me expectantly.

“Any other reasons we shouldn’t date?”

Her nose scrunched momentarily. “Nope, I think that covers it.”

“Good, now that we’re on the same page, I wasn’t asking you out.” I grinned.

“You weren’t?” Her eyebrows creased. “Hmmm. I thought your behavior indicated...Well, that’s rather disappointing, and a little embarrassing, to be honest.”

“How are you disappointed if you didn’t want me to ask you in the first place?” Holy shit, we’d gotten so far off topic that we were in a completely different book.

“Nathan, just because I can’t say yes doesn’t mean I don’t want to be asked. It’s a timeless validation of things that honestly don’t matter, but are nonetheless appreciated.” Her eyes narrowed. “So why did you chase me down for a private conversation?”

“I was going to offer to wear your sensors. In secret, of course. No one can know, hence the private conversation.” I spoke slowly, making sure that I said everything exactly how I intended it. If she didn’t keep it secret, I was fucked.

“You’ll wear the sensors?” Her eyes turned downright luminous.

“I will.”

She clapped her hands together, and her eyes stared off somewhere over my shoulder as she lost herself in thought.

After about a minute, I couldn’t stand the silence.

“What are you thinking, Harper?”

Her eyes bounced back to mine. “That you’re amazing, and this is perfect! Oh, and that this is way better than asking me out. You validated my intelligence and drive with your offer, leaving my physical appearance completely out of the equation, which is simultaneously freeing and yet weirdly frustrating.”

Holy shit, her brain moved faster than I did on the ice. Fascinating.

“You’re incredibly beautiful,” I told her. “Your eyes are stunning. Seriously breathtaking, and your body made me lose all concentration earlier. Just in case you needed that validation.” That last part was putting it mildly, but I doubted she wanted to hear the fantasies that had run their course in my head.

She smiled, and I would have agreed to any fucking helmet she wanted just to see that again. “I didn’t need it, but it’s always appreciated. Plus, I knew from our chemistry that you already found me attractive.”

I laughed. “Of course.”

She pulled out a small spiral notebook from her bag and scribbled something on it, then tore it out and handed the paper to me.

“Your phone number?” I asked without looking.

She scoffed. “Of course not. We’re not dating for all the reasons I mentioned before. Besides, this is something even more intimate.” She turned on her little flip flops and walked away. “It’s the address of my lab!” she called over her shoulder before disappearing into her car.

I could honestly say that I had never met a woman like Harper Thompson, and chances were I never would again.

She had a once-in-a-lifetime job waiting, and that was cool. I got it.