Chapter 65 – Pretending You Are Mine Novel

“That sounds better,” I say.

“I’m glad she’s everything you’re looking for,” Holmes says to me. “Ollie seems pretty cool.”

“She is,” I say, a smile coming to my face as I think about her.

The last few weeks have felt like a whirlwind, and in some way, we’ve been able to build a foundation together. A foundation of appreciation and friendship. And from there, it’s grown. It’s grown into something I never thought I’d feel again—love for a woman. But even at that, I think the love I have for Ollie is greater and more meaningful than anything I ever had with Sarah. Experiencing both relationsh*ps, I can easily say that.

I think Sarah always had one foot out the door, whereas Ollie truly cherishes me. She appreciates me. And she wants me for me, not for the wealth and assets. Sarah, especially later in our relationship, rarely . . . loved on me. It’s completely different with Ollie. And I can’t see her changing because she’s truthful to her core. Sarah isn’t, and I know that now. I can see more clearly how selfish she actually was. Everything is different with Ollie.

The feeling I have when she looks at me.

The emotions I experience when we’re intimate.

And the way I respond to her—when I talk to her, text her—it’s so different from the sense of obligation I had with Sarah. Perhaps that’s from the newness of our relationship, but I feel like an active, willing participant rather than someone waiting for the shoe to drop.

Ollie has awoken me, and I’ll never take that for granted.

I glance up at my friends and say, “Thanks for being there for me. I really appreciate it.”

“No need to thank us,” Posey says, mouth full of bread. “That’s what we’re here for.”

* * *

Silas: You awake?

Ollie: Mmmm, yes. You going to call?

I sit up in bed, the morning light shining in my hotel room, and I go to FaceTime. Last night when I got back to my hotel, it was pretty late so I just called Ollie for a bit, but now that I’m awake, I want to talk to her more. We have time before I need to be at the arena, so I might as well spend some time with my girl.

The phone rings a few times, and then her beautiful face comes into view.

“Good morning,” she says all sleepy-like as she twists in her sheets.

“Morning,” I reply and then notice her bare shoulder. “Babe, are you naked?”

“I am. What about you?”

“I have my briefs on.”

“Take them off,” she says as she slides the sheets down, and I get a front-row seat view of her perfect br***ts.

I prop the phone up on the nightstand next to me and shimmy out of my briefs only to drop them on the floor.

“You’re already hard,” she says.

“Woke up with a hard-on. Had a sex dream about you last night.”

“Mmm, tell me what I did,” she says as she moves her hands over her br***ts.

My mouth waters from the sight of her. “We were at my place, making dinner together.”

“You don’t know how to cook.” She smirks.

“Didn’t stop me from trying in my dream. You were wearing one of my b**ton-up shirts with nothing else.”

“Sounds about right.” She pinches her n**ples, and I grip the base of my erection and squeeze.

“I propped you up on the counter, laid you down, and explored every inch of your body with my t***ue.”

“Did you undo my shirt and let it fall open?”

I nod. “Yeah, and I s**ked on your tits for what seemed like forever.”

“I love when you do that,” she says as I start to move my hand up and down. “Were you hard in your dream?”

“So f**king hard, like I am right now.”

“Let me see,” she says, her beautiful eyes fluttering open. I take the phone, and I turn the camera around so she can see my hand on my c**k, pumping. “God, that’s so sexy.”

“Let me see you touch your p**sy,” I say as my grip grows tighter.

She picks up her phone as well and offers me the same angle. Her bare p**sy comes into view right before her hand slides over it, and her fi**ger glides over her slit. “Silas, I wish this was your t***ue.”

“Me too, baby,” I say as a light sheen of sweat breaks out over my skin.

“What else happens? Did you f**k me on the counter?”

Knock. Knock.

I glance over toward the entryway of my door.

f**k, is that housekeeping? I put up the do not disturb. They should leave me alone.

“Silas.”

“Huh? Oh sorry, what did you say?” I ask.

Knock. Knock.

“Dude, open up,” Posey says.

“Is someone knocking on your door?” Ollie asks.

“Yeah,” I grumble as I fl*p the camera around. “I think it’s—”

The door beeps to unlock, and it opens. Posey, Pacey, and Holmes come charging in. I have about two seconds to cover myself up before they see me.

“What the actual f**k,” I yell as I turn the screen of my phone face down so they can’t see Ollie. This is why I shouldn’t give a spare key to the guys. I thought it was a good idea, given I tend to sleep through an alarm occasionally, but this is not cool.

“We need to talk . . .” Posey’s voice dies down as he takes in the scene in front of him. “Uh . . . were you . . .”

I pick up the phone, and luckily, Ollie is covered and waiting for me. “I’ll call you back, babe.”

“Okay,” she says right before I hang up.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask. As my three friends all exchange glances. “What?” I shout.

“Was that Ollie?” Pacey asks.

“Yes,” I say, annoyed. “And you’re f**king interrupting.”

“Sorry, but . . . you need to read this,” Posey says as he walks up to me and hands me his phone.

Completely confused, I look down at the screen and read the headline of an article.

“Even Hockey Players Can’t Have it All.”

Byline: Ollie Owens.

I glance up at them. “Is this Ollie’s article?” They nod. “Well, Jesus, why are you barging in here? I’ve read it already.”

“Have you?” Pacey asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Before she turned it in.”

Posey looks almost gray as he says, “So you were cool with her talking about . . . about what happened with Sarah?”

“Wait, what?” I ask as my heart stills in my chest, all air escaping from my lungs.

“It’s, uh . . . it’s in there,” Holmes says as he pushes his hand through his hair in distress. “How she cheated on you.”

“No, the f**k it’s not,” I say, tossing the phone back. “She wouldn’t have written that.”

“Dude,” Pacey says softly. “It’s in there.”

“Where?” I say, swimming in the lane of denial.

Posey picks up the phone, and he scrolls through it. Then hands me the phone.

My eyes zero in on the start of the paragraph.

And after a long road trip, where the boys are beaten up and ready for a homecooked meal, there’s nothing more they want to go home to than their family and loved ones. Unfortunately for Silas Taters, that wasn’t always the case.

The Agitators paint their organization as picture perfect, but when you lift the veil, you’re offered a glimpse into another side of the story, a side where their players can’t seem to make their loved ones happy. It’s probably not the first time this has happened, but it’s the first confirmed time on record that our Agitators aren’t perfect. Silas Taters’s former girlfriend cheated on him.

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