I choke on my own saliva while trying to will my cheeks to remain neutral in color. “Guys we are not talking about my personal life.”
Shepherd raises his hands, surrendering. “Fair enough. Back to Portland?”
“Thank you.”
I click open the spreadsheet again, though my heart is still thundering in my chest.
Harrison texts AGAIN.
Harrison
If you’re busy, I can?—
A second text…
Harrison
You don’t have to pretend you’re not busy just to be nice.
And a third…
Harrison
I’ll stop now.
My lips curve despite my best effort.
God, he’s adorable.
“Okay,” I say, trying to sound normal. “Next steps. I’m sending each of you a packet with everything I need from you. Shepherd, your film breakdown meeting with the Rush’s GM will be next week. Killian, Bishop, I’ll have the Lagers workout dates by tomorrow.”
Bishop nods. “We’ll be ready. Thanks.”
Shepherd softens. “Thanks for taking us on. We know we can be a lot.”
“A lot is putting it mildly,” I mutter.
Killian grins. “Don’t worry. We grow on people.”
“Like mold,” Bishop says.
The two start bickering again—quietly, this time—while Shepherd gives me a look that is surprisingly earnest for someone whose face could be carved on the side of Mount Handsome.
“You really think you can pull this off?” he asks.
“Get all three of you in Portland?” I ask, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah.”
I sit up straighter. “I don’t take clients I don’t believe in,” I say simply. “And I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
The boys go silent.
For once, genuinely silent.
And then—all at once?—
“Thanks, Harper,” Shepherd says softly.
