Merry Pucking Christmas Read Online Logan Chance

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
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“Wow,” I say, nodding appreciatively at Connie, who stands nearby with a proud smile on her face. “Thank you for the meal.”

Connie beams at me, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “You’re very welcome, York. I thought today you and Noelle could get some holiday shopping done?” Her voice is bright, and I can tell she’s genuinely excited about the idea.

I nod, pulling out a chair to take a seat at the table. “Sure. Uh, where is Noelle?” I scan the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing her again.

“Just finishing up in her room. She’ll be here in a minute,” Connie replies, pouring a fresh cup of coffee. The sound of the coffee pot gurgling adds to the homey atmosphere.

As I dig into the delicious spread before me, savoring the fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon, I spot movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn toward the hallway that leads to Noelle’s room, and there she is, stepping into the kitchen with a smile that instantly brightens the room.

My heart stutters, and I lose all motor function, my fork clattering to the ground as I take in the beauty before me. She’s wearing a soft, oversized sweater that hangs just right, accentuating her delicate frame while the sleeves fall lazily over her hands. Her hair, a cascade of chestnut waves, tumbles over her shoulders, catching the morning light and framing her face like a halo.

The way her eyes light up, those deep, expressive blue orbs sparkling with warmth and curiosity, makes my breath hitch in my throat. I can’t help but admire the little details—the sprinkle of freckles across her nose, the gentle curve of her smile that feels like home.

Wow. She’s stunning, a vision that leaves me momentarily speechless. For a second, I forget about the food in front of me and the awkwardness of our situation. All that matters is her presence, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m incredibly lucky to be here, sharing this moment with her.

Wow.

I snap back to reality and lean over to pick up my fork, but before I can reach it, Noelle is there, kneeling gracefully to grab the fork for me. Her presence is intoxicating, and as she reaches for the fork, I can’t help but gaze into her eyes. They’re warm and inviting, drawing me in like a magnet, and my heart hammers wildly inside my chest.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice a little unsteady as I take the fork from her hands. A part of me wants to add, while you’re down there, but I know it would be highly inappropriate. Yet, now that the thought has entered my mind, I can’t shake it off.

I find myself wondering how it would feel to have Noelle’s lips wrapped around my—

Stop it!

I try to snap myself back to reality, but instead, I drop my fork once more. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, frustrated with myself.

Just then, Coach steps up behind me, his presence a reminder of the seriousness of my situation. “Something’s going on with you, York.”

This time, I lean over to grab the fork because Noelle is already on the other side of the kitchen, pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee. The way she lifts the mug to her lips, the light catching in her hair, makes it hard to concentrate.

“I’m all good, promise,” I say, holding my fork up triumphantly. “There, got it.” But as I set the fork down, Connie crosses the kitchen with a new fork in hand.

“Here you go, dear,” she says, handing it to me with a smile.

“Thank you,” I say, giving her a wink that makes her blush slightly, adding a lightness to the air around us.

Connie’s expression turns playful as she looks at her husband. “I thought the two of them could go holiday shopping together in the town square’s mall.” Her enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, the idea of spending time with Noelle outside of this kitchen feels exciting. And as my eyes meet Noelle’s from across the kitchen, I realize I would do anything to spend more time with her.

I like playing pretend with her, maybe a bit too much.

Chapter 14

Noelle

We’re on display again, but today feels different than yesterday. Today, York and I have mastered the art of pretending, like a couple of pros in a romcom. If there were ever an award for “Best Fake Boyfriend,” York would win it hands down, no contest.

As we stroll through the bustling mall, hand in hand, the bright holiday decorations twinkle around us, and I can’t help but steal glances at him. “You know,” I say with a smirk, “if you keep holding my hand like this, people might actually think we’re a real couple.”


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