“You can just cut off other women just like that?”
“Yep,” he says with a smile I’ve not seen from him before, his gaze never leaving mine. “Consider me gone for any other woman but you.”
Shit, that was kind of sweet.Nope. Abort. Donotgo there. This is all for show, Kennedy.
“Okay then. It’s settled. But…what about you? I mean, this is really helping me out, but doesn’t this hurt your precious playboy image?”
He runs his hands through his hair, the strands falling back across his forehead. He twists his lips as if he’s debating some sort of admission.
“Honestly, I could use the positive monogamous relationship PR as well. Coach got on my case about the pre-game performance last night; he’s worried my lifestyle is bleeding onto his ice.”
“I’m shocked,” I say, my tone dry and not at all shocked.
He smirks. “Yeah, yeah. I know. What can I say? I like to have fun. I try to make hockey games enjoyable for the fans who spend their hard-earned money to come see the Riders. The antics, the fights…Nothing I do is just for me. It’s for them. I want them to leave feeling like it was the best night of their lives.”
“And that’s what the girls are for, too? To make them feel like it was the best night of their lives?”
“No. It’s,” —his gaze drops— “it’s complicated. But Coach told me he wants to see more leadership, on and off the ice, and this could really be good for me too. Although I really don’t care about that. This is about helping you. Coach can go suck a lemon. I want to make sure everything is okay for you and try to undo any damage I did tonight.”
The slight creeping upward from the corners of my mouth doesn’t surprise me as much as it should. My pulse flutters at how genuine he sounds. He’s got to be doing this to save face. But, this being all about me?Idolike the sound of that.
“You’re right about one thing. Thisisabout me.But I suppose if this helps us both, that makes it a little more mutually beneficial. So we’re agreed? We pretend we’re dating and, hopefully, this gets us both a better image?”
“Agreed. Should we make this official somehow? I can have my family attorney draw up a contract if you want, or…”
I lean back in my chair, my arms falling to the side.Is this day ever going to end?
“I don’t really want a paper trail. Unless you’re planning to screw me over?”
He shifts in his seat, a flicker in his eyes disappearing as quickly as it came. Smoothed back into his handsome, unreadable face. But the softness of it lingers, humming in the air.
“I know what you think about me—that I’m some rich playboy who only thinks about myself—but I swear to all things hockey.” He places his hand over his heart, “I wouldneverdo anything to hurt you.”
His sincerity hits me, tightening my chest, my throat forcing a swallow to keep my voice steady. My eyes slowly rake up and down his face, his arms, his chest, like I’m doing a walk around of a jet, looking for anything that might be off. I know his exterior perfection doesn’t mean he’s not hiding something underneath. And yet, for some strange reason, I feel like he’s being truthful.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier in the elevator.”
He huffs out a laugh. “All good. We’ll just call it our first argument.”
I let out a slight chuckle. He is maybe, sort of, alittlefunny.Ifyou’re into that sort of thing, which Idefinitely am not.
“I guess that’s true. Maybe before we make this official, we should set some guidelines?”
“Bet.”
My eyes dart back and forth. “What are we betting on?”
He laughs again, the sound warm and calming after the stress of the night.
“Nothing. Bet means like…yes. Okay. I agree.”
“Christ on a cracker, we’re from different worlds,” I huff as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay, so we need a backstory, obviously. I like what you said earlier about how Maggie introduced us. Let’s stick with that.”
“Works for me.”
“And maybe we should talk about when we end this.”
16
