“Move!”
I dash around my room, throwing on clothes and snatching my bag with my gear. I’m out the door and running down the stairs.
Declan catches my hand by the door and pulls me back for one more kiss. “See you later.”
“See you. Love you.”
Turns out, early morning sex is one hell of a performance enhancer. I kicked ass at practice, breezed through the test in one of my classes, and was headed home to take a good shower before my shift.
I showered and still had thirty minutes before I had to leave. The house was quiet. All the guys were at practice. I did the dishes, made myself a cup of noodles, and was scrolling through social media when I heard a knock at the door.
I open the door to find Declan’s father. He doesn’t look happy.
“Declan is at practice,” I say.
"This conversation doesn't involve my son. This is between you and me."
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to slam the door in his face.
“I have to go to work.”
He looks me up and down, sneering at the sight of my uniform.
"I'll be direct," he says. "I want you to break up with my son."
"Not happening."
"I'm prepared to make it worth your while."
“What does that mean?”
"Compensation.”
“Compensation?”
Was he saying I needed to be compensated for dating Declan?
“For your absence and discretion." He pulls an envelope from his jacket pocket. "One hundred thousand dollars. Cash. Deposited into an account of your choosing."
My brain stutters. One hundred thousand dollars.
That's—that's more money than I've ever seen in my life. More than my dad makes in two years.
"You're serious."
"Completely serious." He holds out the envelope. "All you have to do is end the relationship. Move out of this house. Stay away from Declan. Let him focus on his career without distraction."
"I'm not a distraction."
"You are, whether you mean to be or not." His voice is matter-of-fact. Clinical. "Declan has an opportunity that most young men would kill for. A chance to play professional hockey at the highest level. But he's losing focus, making poor decisions, and getting into fights. Breaking bones. All because of his emotional attachment to you."
"Those things aren't my fault."
"Aren't they? He's jeopardizing his entire future because he thinks he's in love."
"He is in love. We both are."
"Love is a temporary emotion that fades when reality sets in." He steps closer. "Do you really think this relationship has a future? He's going to be traveling constantly, making millions of dollars. Surrounded by beautiful women. And you'll be what—working at a forensics lab making fifty thousand a year?"
