One second of letting my guard down.
That’s all it takes for the ground beneath me to shift.
The moment burns itself into my memory like proof I can’t erase. Heat floods my cheeks as panic claws up my throat.
I don’t realize Oliver has caught up to me until his hand closes gently around my arm. “Hey, are you okay?”
A short, humorless laugh slips free. “No, I’m not. Do you have any idea what happens if that picture gets out?”
That thought alone is enough to make my stomach churn.
“Relax,” he says easily. “It’s just a fan. She’ll share it with her friends, nothing more.”
A snort escapes before I can stop it. “Oh, right. Because fans never post things online.”
My gaze sweeps the sidewalk, my heart pounding as I search for more phones aimed in our direction. But it’s just the two girls. They’re laughing and chatting as they disappear around the corner.
Hopefully he’s right and they keep the photos to themselves.
Although, deep down I know better. I’ve spent years cleaning up messes like this. A rumor doesn’t have to be true to spread.
It just needs a headline catchy enough to trend.
And no one in this city loves a scandal more than Railers fans.
I wince, praying the image doesn’t end up splashed across Railers Rumors before the day is over. The last thing I need is Hugh questioning my judgment or Evelyn side-eyeing me in meetings. She believed in me when no one else did. If she thinks I’ve crossed a professional line, I don’t know how I’ll recover. Every sponsor I’ve spent years cultivating will wonder if I earned this position or if it was handed to me because I’m sleeping with Chicago’s very own Big O.
“I mean it,” I say, my voice trembling under the weight of what’s at stake. I hasten my pace, as if it’s possible to outrun the panic pressing in on me. “This has the potential to ruin everything.”
“Babe.”
Even though his tone remains calm, there’s iron threaded through it. His footsteps match mine until he’s right beside me, close enough that his shoulder brushes mine.
When he reaches for my hand, I jerk away before he can catch it.
“This—us—isn’t going away,” he says quietly, but there’s nothing gentle about it. “You think you can keep me in the shadows, but I’m not built for that. And I’m done letting you keep parts of yourself hidden from me.”
A jolt runs through me at the force of his conviction. It should scare the crap out of me. And maybe, on some level, it does. But it also cracks something wide open. For one reckless moment, I imagine what it would feel like to stop fighting him.
And just let myself fall.
Then reality rushes back in, brutal as the icy air inside the rink against my flushed skin.
I can’t.
Not when it could stop my career cold.
“You don’t get it, do you?” I whisper with a shake of my head. “If that picture makes it back to the front office, I could lose everything I’ve worked so hard for.”
Oliver doesn’t blink. He lifts his hand, and his knuckles brush along my jaw.
“No, baby. You’re the one who doesn’t get it. I’m all in. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is happening.”
I can’t help but lean into his touch. He looks at me as if I already belong to him—whether I’ve signed off on it or not.
The thought is intoxicating.
And terrifying.
