“Don’t worry, I won’t be grumpy when we get there.”
“Ah, so the grumpiness is just for me to experience.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Not like I need to impress you or anything. I already have a signed napkin stating you’re mine.”
“Something you should be grateful for.”
“Trust me, in that sweater, I’m very fucking grateful.”
I catch her smile and then turn to look out the window, clearly satisfied with that answer.
“So do we need to have a conversation about what’s appropriate to say in front of people?”
“No,” she groans. “I have it under control.”
“Are you sure? Because that’s what you thought when we went into the fundraiser.”
“Listen, I might be a loose cannon, but now that I’m seasoned, I totally got this.”
“That’s what you’re calling it?” I ask. “Being seasoned?”
“Yes, the perfect description. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to turn on some Taylor Swift to pump me up.”
“Taylor Swift for pumping up?”
“Uh . . . yeah. And if you piss me off, I can go into the party with Reputation on my mind, or we can be friendly and fly in on a Lover high. Take your pick.”
I tug on my hair and sigh. “Do Lover.”
“Good choice, Silas. You’re so good at pleasing your fake girlfriend.”
* * *
“So I know I exude confidence,”Ollie says as I hold her hand and walk her down the hallway toward the rink. “But I’m going to tell you right now, I feel like I could throw up.”
That causes me to pause and turn toward her.
“But we played the Lover remix featuring Shawn Mendes on repeat.” She squeezes my hand and looks up at me in a panic. “Wait. Are you serious? Do you need a bathroom?”
“I think I just need a second,” she says as she backs up to the wall and leans against it.
I continue to hold her hand and rub my thumb over her knuckles.
“Sorry,” she says while taking a deep breath. “I just got really nervous all of a sudden. You would think I would be more nervous at my event, but this just feels so . . . intimate.”
“We can leave if you want.”
She shakes her head. “No, this is what I signed up for.” Her eyes connect with mine. “Can you do me a favor, though?”
“Anything,” I say, feeling her nerves course through me as well. She’s so good at being vulnerable. It comes so easily to her that whenever she is vulnerable, it’s almost like those feelings transfer over to me as well.
“Please don’t leave my side. Yonny would do this thing where he took me to events and expected me to hit it off with other people without him. It’s intimidating. I’m much better around people when I’m comfortable.” She blinks, and those green eyes nearly bring me to my knees when she says, “This might sound weird, but I’m comfortable with you around.”
“I’ll be at your side the whole time. I promise.”
“Thank you. I just know that Sarah will be here, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the whole you go flirt with her thing while I watch. I know it seemed like I did that with Yonny, but I didn’t and—”
I reach up and cup her cheek as I say, “When I say I want nothing to do with Sarah, I fucking mean it. I’m not leaving you. You’ll be by my side the whole time, okay? Remember, you’re doing me a favor, so I’m here for you.”
She nods. “Okay, yeah.” She lets out another deep breath. “God, I’m sorry. I’m stronger than this.” I watch as she steadies her shoulders, lifts her chin, and poises herself for what’s to come. It’s interesting to see someone just drop their fear and anxieties like that, as if to say, I’m done worrying and now I’m moving on.
Not sure I even can do that.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Very sure. I’m taking a page out of your book and not showing any vulnerability.”
For some reason, that doesn’t settle well with me. Maybe because I have seen her vulnerable before or maybe because I know what it feels like to hold those feelings in. Either way, I don’t want her to feel like she needs to deter from being herself.
“Don’t take a page out of my book,” I say. “It’s not a healthy way to live.”
“You say that,” she says, tilting her head as she looks at me, “yet you don’t listen to your own advice.”
“Never said I was an expert at handling emotions. I just know if you have feelings, you’ll feel better when you get them off your chest.” I run my thumb over her cheek.
“Well, I’m nervous. What if people don’t like me? I’ll be letting you down.”
“Trust me, the last thing you can do when dressed in that sweater is let me down.”
That puts a smile on her face. “Really a fan of the sweater, huh?”
“Everyone is a fan of the sweater.”
“Told you I could dress warm and slutty.”
“You continue to prove me wrong.” Now that she’s feeling a touch lighter, I ask, “Ready to do this?”
“I am.” She nods. “And thanks, Silas, for understanding.”
“Listen. We’re both doing each other a favor here. Working out all the kinks will take a second, but once we’re comfortable, it will be easy moving forward.”
“I hope so.” She pushes off the wall and snuggles into my arm as we hold hands and head down the hallway again. “Remember, no ditching me.”
“Babe, trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Babe?” she asks, with a raise of her brow.
I just shrug my shoulder, choosing not to address it because honestly, the term of endearment just slipped out. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much I can control these days.
Like the way I keep glancing over at her stunning eyes.
Or how my gaze drifts down to her shirt and her mouth-watering tits.
Or how I can’t wait to get out on the ice despite being sore, so I can show her how to skate.
Ollie is fun to be around, and I appreciate her keeping my mind off my demons.
“So this is where we enter on game days,” I say. “And that”—I point at our logo on the wall—“that is what we tap before we enter the arena.”
“Is it a good luck thing?”
I nod. “Yeah, good luck, tradition, all of the combined.”
“And these heavy mats on the floor, is this because you wear skates?”
“Yup,” I say as we pass a few employees. I nod and smile at them.
“Do you ever stop to talk to fans?”
“Before the game, not really. I’ll toss pucks over the boards to fans after warm-ups, but conversations and autographs? No. I’ll save that for after games . . . games that we win. Coach doesn’t like us hanging out on the ice after a loss.”
“I can understand that. Good thing you win a lot, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I haven’t really paid attention to your stats.”
“Shame, I could really impress you.”
“Stats mean nothing to me. How you treat the people around you, now that’s something to talk about.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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