The Final Score - Softcover

Ferguson, Lana

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593953711 ISBN 13: 9780593953716

Verlag: Berkley, 2026

Inhaltsangabe

A hockey player and a grad student are on thin ice until they meet their match in this sexy romance by USA Today bestselling author Lana Ferguson.

Jack Baker is on top of the world now that he’s back on the rink where he belongs. But the high comes crashing down when he reinjures his arm immediately following his return to the ice, and this time, he might never be able to play again. After a lifetime as the strong, happy hockey guy whose sister needed him, Jack is left questioning everything he knows about himself.

Abigail Thompson feels like she’s hit rock bottom. It’s only been a few months since the massive scandal that finally severed the cord between her and her narcissistic father. And now, in her last weeks of grad school, she’s been kicked out of her building with very short notice. The last thing she wants to do is ask her half-brother for help after what she’s put him through, but it’s looking like his best friend’s spare room might be her only choice.

Jack is flighty, flirty, and a little full of himself—all the things Abby’s learned to avoid in men. However, spending every day together breaks the ice between them, and she starts to realize that Jack might not be who he seems. It’s possible that maybe, just maybe, he might be struggling as much as she is. Soon, confiding in each other leads to falling into bed, and this fling will either play with their hearts—or score them the ultimate goal of love.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Lana Ferguson is a sex-positive nerd whose works never shy from spice or sass. A faded Fabio book cover found its way into her hands at fifteen, and she’s never been the same since. When she isn’t writing, you can find her randomly singing show tunes, arguing over which Batman is superior, and subjecting her friends to the extended editions of The Lord of the Rings. Lana lives mostly in her own head but can sometimes be found chasing her canine through the coppice of the great American outdoors.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

One

Abby

Are you sure we're allowed to be down here?"

Lila rolls her eyes. "Kind of the perks of dating the owner's son."

I follow after her as she moves deeper into the inner workings of the stadium, the halls empty but a low murmur of voices coming from just down the way.

"Besides," Lila goes on. "You're his sister. You're practically in nepo-baby territory."

I snort. "Hardly."

Sure, my relationship with Ian has gotten a lot better in the last few months since our dear old dad ran off to California with his tail tucked between his legs, but I heavily doubt that I could start using Ian's name to throw my weight around. Definitely not to be practically sneaking down to the locker rooms.

"We're going to get in trouble," I hiss.

Lila shakes her head. "No, we aren't. Ian told me to bring him his phone. He forgot it back at the apartment." She throws an arm around my shoulder-something that is a little difficult given that I'm at least four inches taller than her five foot four-giving me a shake. "Live a little, Abby."

Live a little.

Seems like that's the mantra most of the people in my life choose for me. In my last year of grad school for psychology and doing my very best to keep my nose clean so that I don't bring any more hardship to my brother than I already have-it's not a concept that comes to me naturally. I'm more of the "sit quietly in the corner" type. It's why I don't really have a lot of friends.

I watch as Lila raises her fist to the slightly cracked locker room door, giving three heavy knocks before shouting, "If your balls are out, cover them up!"

And then she just blazes in.

Ever since meeting Lila, I've always admired her ability to just run headfirst through anything standing in her way; this is also not a concept that comes naturally to me. Hence, I remain outside the door, lingering against the wall.

"Brought your lucky jockstrap, Cupcake!" I hear her shout.

She's met with an answering groan. "Phone," Ian says. "She brought me my phone."

"Whatever you say," she hums.

I hear a series of whoops then, assuming she's kissing him. I assume this because it seems like the pair of them can't be within four feet of each other without planting one on the other. And since I've been at their place every week for dinner for the last few months, I have been privy to a lot of kisses.

Animals, those two are. Animals.

I lean on the wall and let my head thunk back against it as I shut my eyes, letting the voices from the other room fade into the background as I mentally check off all the homework I need to get to tonight. Truthfully, I probably shouldn't have come to Ian's game at all, with how much work I need to get done, but I'd been so damned excited that he'd even thought to invite me, I couldn't bring myself to say no.

Before this year, my brother had been more of an idea rather than an actual person; I hadn't seen him in six years, and when we spoke on the phone-which was rare-it was stilted and awkward and not at all flowing with any sort of familial bond. It's not entirely his fault, really. I never knew what to say to him either. With the weight of all our father had done hanging over our heads-having me out of wedlock in secret, dumping me on Ian's doorstep after my mom died-with the guilt of knowing that I'd practically ruined his life there for a while . . . it was easy to let myself sink into the background. Easier for everyone, really.

I still haven't really gotten used to being out in the light.

"Whatcha hiding out here for?" I hear a very familiar, very aggravating voice say from my right. "Afraid you'll see something in here you won't be able to forget?"

I crack open one eye, taking in the boyish grin flashing back at me, complete with an all-around-perfect face that might make me swoon if I didn't know what a shit he was.

Jack Baker is the epitome of a playboy no-no: He's flirty, flighty, and the definition of a fuckboy-and there's nothing I like more than wiping that grin off his face. His big brown eyes and shaggy hair of a similar shade might inspire some to trip over themselves, but all I see is my dad in a slightly sweeter package. I'm sure he has a new woman every week, and I'll be damned if I ever put myself on the roster.

"Nah," I say back. "Don't worry. Forgot my microscope. So no danger here."

He just grins wider, undeterred. The dick. "I love when you talk dirty to me," he sighs. "But you'd need a telescope, not a microscope."

I cock my head, my nose wrinkling. "What?"

"Because," he says, leaning in a little closer, "it's as big as a planet."

He steps out into the hall, clad in nothing but his compression gear, which means that I can see every outline of his very cut body, and if I were to look down-which I'm not-I'm sure I could see ample evidence of his claims.

"God," I groan. "You really are the worst."

"I like to think of myself as adorably misunderstood."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"So why are you hiding in the hall? Didn't want to come say hi?"

I shrug. "I'm not even sure I'm supposed to be down here. I get Lila, but I'm . . . Well. Just trying to keep out of trouble."

"No one cares," Jack laughs. "Come say hi."

"I'm fine here."

His brow lifts. "You're extra grumpy-looking today."

"Yeah, well. I'm sleeping on a shitty twin bed every night, and I've got more coursework than I know what to do with. Excuse me if I don't look camera ready."

"Oh, don't worry, you're still hot." He cringes. "In an Ian way. I just meant you look tired."

"I don't even know how to process what you just said."

"Well, you're like, really hot, but you also look a little like Ian. It's confusing. I mean, I consider myself to be sexually open to anything, but thinking about Ian naked is just weird."

"Why would you think about Ian naked?"

"Because you look like Ian, and if I thought about you naked, eventually my brain would substitute your face for Ian's, and that would just be weird for everyone." He frowns. "Damn it. Now I'm thinking about Ian naked. I've seen enough of that in the locker rooms to last a lifetime, thank you very much."

"God you're weird," I tell him. "And don't think about me naked."

"I'm not weird, I'm medicated," he says. "And sorry, too late."

"You know that little voice that tells you when you should keep your thoughts to yourself?"

He shakes his head. "Never had one. They don't make meds strong enough for that, apparently."

"Are you out here harassing my sister?"

Ian pokes his head out the door, frowning in Jack's direction.

Jack raises his hands in an innocent gesture. "Who, me? I would never. It's not like I have any sort of score to settle. It's not as if my best friend started boinking my sister and then just continued on and made it a habit."

"Did you take your meds today?"

Jack looks thoughtful. "I honestly can't remember."

Ian rolls his eyes. "Go get dressed, and leave Abby alone."

"Fine, fine," he relents. "But Abby loves our banter. It's part of our meet-cute."

"There is no meet-cute," I argue. "I met you months ago."

"It's all about the endgame, baby," he teases.

Ian shoos him away, shoving him back into the locker room before stepping out into the hall with Lila in tow. "He's determined to punish Lila and me by being as insufferable as he can to you, isn't he?"

"That does seem to be the case," I agree.

Lila pats Ian's shoulder. "Abby and I are going to go grab some food before the game starts, but we'll be back before the face-off, okay?"

"I'll be looking for you," Ian hums, leaning in to press his lips to Lila's.

I avert my eyes. There's always a fifty-fifty chance that...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Berkley
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2026
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593953711
• ISBN 13: 9780593953716
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 384
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Penguin Random House LLC; penguinrandomhouse@penguinrandomhouse.com; ; 1745 Broadway; New York; NY 10019; USA
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Deutschland