"Yeah, it's a pretty incredible room," she responds, glancing up.
"I wasn't talking about the room," I reply, shaking my head at her modesty.
"Oh," she whispers, pressing her hands against the breadth of my chest.
I flush when my nipples harden at her touch and stand painfully erect beneath the crispness of my freshly starched shirt. I'm glad I stuck with the Kings' dress code and donned one of the suits I usually wear on the plane, but right now, I just want it off—or, preferably, have Hailey take it off me.
"Enough about me. You must be starving," she mutters, having no idea how cute she is. It's like my talking to her like this still overwhelms her. But she's going to have to get used to it because I don't intend to stop.
"I'm hungry for you," I groan, bending down to nibble her neck, breathing in her rosewater scent.
I never thought I'd be the guy who spurts cheesy lines, but with her, I mean every single word. What would sound ridiculous if I were to say it to anyone else feels right as I say it to her. I didn't even know this side of me existed, but she brings it out so easily. I could whisper things like this to her all night long and never run out of things to say about how she makes me feel.
She's already resting the toes of one foot atop my shoe like she's trying to climb my body to reach my lips. I allow my hands to roam, and she takes a quick intake of breath when I lift up her skirt and don't even think twice as I pick her up with both hands, quickly straddling her around me. But holy shit, I never thought she'd be wearing a thong. My hands are cupping her bare skin and my dick immediately jerks to life.
I keep my hands as still as possible, only allowing my thumbs to wander over her soft curves. I don't even know where I'm taking her as I walk forward aimlessly, kissing her neck, until I bump into a linen-covered table adorned with candles and fine china. This must be our midnight supper. But it's going to have to wait because I intend to taste the sweetness of her body first.
I push the plates, napkins, and silverware aside with the back of my arm as I gently guide her on top of the table, lowering myself over her. It's an old piece of furniture, solid oak with wide, sturdy legs, and it should easily support my weight.
She rises up, her eyes a stormy shade of blue I've never seen before. She grabs my tie, yanking it hard while pulling me toward her, taking control. She starts undoing the knot and hurriedly slides it through my collar before draping it around her neck. Her hands make quick work of my jacket, but she takes her time with the buttons on my shirt before spreading it open, her breathing coming in short, uneven spurts as she guides her hands across my chest, making me moan when her thumbs brush my nipples.
I take a few steps back, freeing my arms from my shirt, not even stopping when a spasm of pain erupts in my elbow because all I can think about is her.
I cut off her frantic breathing, kissing her hard and deep as she rakes her fingers all the way down my back. I ease her down, pinning her against the table again, loving how she feels so small against my body.
"Hailey…" I draw her name out with a groan, pulling her up with me, causing the empty wine glasses on the table to clink together.
"Bruce, shhhhh…" She keeps her knees firmly locked around my waist before lowering one strap of her dress and then the other.
I brace both hands on either side of her and sigh deeply. I stare at her from beneath my lashes. She's being all sexy, and all I can think about is taking her right here on this damn table.
"Can't you feel what you're doing to me?" I respond, keeping my voice low and deep and full of promise, driving my hips into hers.
"Yes…" she whispers, her smile widening. "Oh…yes, Bruce…yes…"
I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. Her moaning my name sounds so fucking hot. I shudder when her fingers find my belt as I grind into her again and again. She positions me so that I'm running my cock into that extremely delicate place. Her movements are bold yet tentative when she slides her fingers beneath the band of my boxers while her other hand lowers my zipper. I shift from one foot to the other, my eyes closing of their own accord.
When the door behind us swings open and Terry Bloom asks, "Are you just about finished? Or should I come back later?"
Chapter Fifteen
Hailey
I'd know that voice anywhere after hearing it a million times on TV.
Terry Bloom—the general manager of the New York Kings, one of the most powerful wheelers and dealers in all of sports—is freakin' standing there, watching us go at it.
"What is it, Terry?" Jilly asks tersely.
I can't look at him. Instead, I bury my face against Jilly's chest.
"We need to talk—now," Terry responds.
Jilly pushes himself off me, taking care to shield my body with his. He stands in front of me to slip his shirt back on, only stopping to help me raise the straps of my dress over my shoulders, his fingers warm against my skin. He tucks the bottom of his shirt into his pants, taking his tie from around my neck and stuffing it in his pocket.
I have a pretty good feeling that, if Terry weren't his boss, Jilly would've turned around and strangled him with it.
"You could at least straighten the tablecloth while you're at it," Terry mocks us.
I see Jilly visibly tense and I'm afraid of what he might do.
Until Gayle sprints in, clutching her side. "Terry, what a surprise to find you here!"
I slide off the table and stand next to Jilly, and immediately, I feel his arms go around me.
"They're in the middle of another date, Terry," Gayle continues, trying to catch her breath. "I'm sure whatever it is can wait until tomorrow."
"No, it can't." Terry rounds on her, his rebuke forceful.
"Terry, I'm asking you as a colleague, as a friend even. Please don't do this." Gayle looks at Terry imploringly, but he seems unmoved by her entreaty.
"So you know why I'm here then. What…did one of your little spies tip you off?" He leers at Gayle like he suddenly has a bad taste in his mouth, and I stiffen in Jilly's arms.
"The girl's not a threat, Terry. She didn't mean any harm," Gayle challenges, and I feel my stomach start to churn violently.
"She stirred up a hornet's nest and you know it, Gayle. I can't believe someone in your position would let something like this go. That you knew about it and didn't even tell me." Terry's voice echoes throughout the cavernous room.
"I don't know what the heck the two of you are talking about, but if you think Hailey did something, I'm telling you now, you have the wrong girl." Jilly slowly releases me to face Terry head on.
I reach for his arm to hold him back, but he steps away from me, getting right in Terry's face.
"I don't think so," Terry snaps, causing Gayle to purse her lips and look away.
Gayle knows and she can't protect me anymore. I've been made. The person who has my laptop must've leaked my identity to Terry. It's the only explanation that makes sense.
"What can you possibly have on her?" Jilly is the only one who doesn't know what's going on, and it's breaking my heart to watch him defend me when I'm the one who's been stabbing him in the back the whole time.
"Some pretty damning evidence," Terry replies, turning his attention to me. "Wouldn't you say, Miss Halpert? Or should I call you—"
"No! Please don't!" I beg.
Terry sighs, crossing his arms, and Gayle looks distraught. Only Jilly is staring at me like he can't believe what he's hearing.
"What is he talking about, Hailey?" Jilly's eyes bore into mine.
"I wanted to tell you sooner, Bruce. I really did. I just got scared," I start, realizing that, with every passing word, I'm just reopening that old wound in his heart, the one that never fully healed, the one I gave him.
Jilly stands there for a full ten seconds, not saying anything, making a valiant attempt to remain calm and hear me out.
"Miss Halpert, we haven't got all night. Are you going to tell him or shall I?" Terry interrupts, getting impatient.
<
br /> "Go ahead, Hailey," Gayle urges. "He needs to hear it from you."
Jilly's eyes are pleading with me to tell him that this is some kind of sick joke—but it's not. I betrayed his trust. I came to New York under false pretenses. I made him believe he was welcoming back an old friend, not someone who was out to exploit him.
I clear my throat, knowing that this is going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. "Jilly, remember those books you told me you were reading?" I don't even recognize the sound of my own voice. It's like my true self is taking shelter, hiding from the storm that's sure to come now that my only option is to own up to what I did.
"Those New York Warriors books?" Jilly asks, furrowing his brow and nervously running his hand across the back of his head. "What about them?"
"Some time this decade, Miss Halpert," Terry cuts in, checking his watch.
"Let her be, Terry," Gayle implores, giving me a quick nod of encouragement.
"Well, nobody knows who writes them, right?" I lead him into it as gently as possible, blinking back tears.
"Ah, so that's what this is!" Jilly exclaims, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "You know the author. You went to school with her or something and they're trying to weasel her identity out of you." He turns to Terry and Gayle. "You two, just back off, okay? If she doesn't want to give up her friend, she doesn't have to."
"So, did you enjoy those books, Jilly? Did you like how you were portrayed in them as a loose cannon who can't communicate to save his life?" Terry presses on. "Because I gotta tell you a lot of the guys are pretty up in arms about them. Chase and Grey, for the most part, have brushed off the controversial elements surrounding her past, but Chase's ex-girlfriend, that Czech model, isn't too happy about them. She's claiming the Kings are trying to purposely damage her career in order to push Chase's new family-man image. And Drake—he's had his attorney contact me, claiming that I'm filtering inside information to the author in order to defame his character and lower his net worth. Oh yeah, these books are responsible for creating a whole shitload of trouble."
"But Hailey didn't write them, so why are you blaming her?" Jilly practically yells, unable to admit what's staring him right in the face, his loyalty running that deep.
"Because…I did write them, Jilly. I'm R.D. Bukater."
I can't see his face, but the hand of his injured arm balls into a fist and he starts to shake. Gayle eyes him apprehensively, before tossing me a pained look. His breathing is coming hard and fast, the wide span of his back completely blocking Terry from view.
"There. You see? She admitted it." Terry's voice tears into me. "This girl cannot be a part of your life. Do you understand me?"
"Rose DeWitt Bukater from Titanic." Jilly finally moves, his expression blank. "It really is you."
"Jilly, I didn't do this to hurt you. I thought what we had was over and you were out of my life. I didn't think there'd be any repercussions." The tears roll down my face. I want to reach out to him, but not with the way he's looking at me.
"How could I've been so blind? You played me, Hailey. You've been playing me all along." The level of anguish crossing his face is unbearable to watch.
"I wasn't, Jilly. I swear I wasn't!" I crumple in on myself, wishing his strong arms were still wrapped around me to hold me up.
"You're lying," he says like he's putting as much emotional distance between us as he can.
"I'm not!" I wail.
"Were you jealous that I was into Sasha? Is that it? Or were you still hung up over what happened at that damn party that you decided you were gonna come here and make me fall in love with you again just so you could get some kind of revenge?" He stares at me like he's looking at a stranger, like I'm someone he's never seen before.
"How can you say that to me?" I ask, taken aback.
"Because you've done it before. That's why you kissed Kurt Nelson, right? To get my attention?" His pain is on full display, making me ache even more inside for the things I've done to him.
"Jilly, I was a dumb kid back then—" I protest.
"But you didn't just involve me this time. No, you had to bring my teammates into it. The guys I go into battle with day in and day out. What did they ever do to you, Hailey? You don't even know them." His eyes can't hide his disappointment.
"It was the only way I could think of to stay close to you. I didn't think anyone would read them. I didn't think anyone would make the connection between the Warriors and the Kings." Somehow, I'm able to speak past my shame.
"The New York Kings and the New York Warriors? Real subtle." He burns me with his sarcasm.
"It's fiction! It's made up!" I vent.
"Yeah, but it's based in reality, Hailey. Don't lie to me—I've read them! I can't listen to this anymore. You're not fooling anyone but yourself."
I feel my heart stop when he turns on his heel and stomps out of the room not even bothering to look back at me.
"Bruce!" I yell after him.
But he doesn't stop. He doesn't even slow down.
"I expect you to take every single one of your books off the market, Miss Halpert." Terry sidles over to me, a stony expression on his face. "If not, I'm afraid the consequences aren't gonna be pretty. You don't possess the resources to fight us, and I don't want to have to take action against you. I'm not known for giving second chances, but if you walk away quietly, we'll pretend like none of this ever happened."
"Terry, you can't do this and you know it," Gayle argues, on my behalf. "You have no right to—"
"I can, and I will." Terry wields around. "Don't think that I won't. This girl might end up costing me millions just because she wanted to write a bit of fluff about her high school boyfriend. This is serious and you know it, Gayle. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Gayle responds, glaring at him.
"I'll be watching you, Miss Halpert. I just hope you do the right thing for once in your life." Terry gives me a piercing glance before ushering Gayle out ahead of him, leaving me standing there all alone.
I collapse onto the floor, knowing that I've lost everything.
My anonymity.
My books.
My Jilly.
Chapter Sixteen
Jilly
I rear back and throw.
I…
The batter swings and misses.
Can't…
Because the ball's already in Pedro's glove.
Stop…
Pedro tosses it back.
Thinking about…
I adjust my grip on the ball.
Her.
These have been the longest five days of my life. The only thing keeping me sane is that I'm finally back on the job. It's all I have now that Hailey's gone.
She left without a trace. She never returned to my apartment. She didn't call. Nothing. After storming out of the library, I waited up all night for her, thinking that she'd come back and we'd talk, but she never showed—not even to tell me goodbye or where she was going.
In the morning, I went over to her old place in the East Village, praying that she hadn't gone back there. No matter how mad I am at her, I'd never forgive myself if I put her in danger just because she was too afraid to face me. So I waited outside her building in my Jeep all day, but she never went in or out. When dusk faded into evening, I kept an eye on her window. When no lights came on, I knew she wasn't there.
I went home, and for the first time, my apartment felt more like a prison than a sanctuary. I couldn't relax not knowing where she was because it finally started to sink in that she wasn't coming back. We'd only lived together a few short days, but it had already seemed like she belonged there with me. Without her, being on my own again felt cold and empty…and I'm a guy who likes being alone.
I blink when a poster behind home plate distracts me for a minute. I don't usually notice these things, but this one's pretty hard to miss.
Jilly, you can 'R.D.' me anytime!
The chick, whoever she is, is waving it back and forth, de
termined to get my attention. Girls never do this kind of shit for me. For Scott, yeah—but having women proposition me in glitter is not something I intend to get used to.
***
Once the news broke that Hailey was R.D. Bukater, I just wanted to hide away, but Gayle was relentless. She kept calling, leaving me messages to get out and carry on like nothing had happened when my whole world was imploding all around me. I forced myself to go to my rehab sessions with Liam at the stadium, but that's about it. I ignored the contingent of paparazzi that hounded me, shouting questions all the way from my apartment to the clubhouse.
"Jilly, have you been providing R.D. Bukater with material for her books?"
"Was that whole Queen of Diamonds contest just a ruse to boost your girlfriend's book sales?"
"Are you jealous of how she fantasizes about your fellow teammates?"
"Should we expect some pretty hot love scenes when her new book comes out?"
The press was having a field day that my dream date had turned out to be the author of the New York Warriors books. Yep, my reality was becoming even stranger than Hailey's fiction. It's the kind of scoop that doesn't come around that often, the kind that gossip pages salivate over because it's impossible to make up.
After Terry made a statement publicly denouncing the series, claiming over and over that the Kings had nothing to do with it, he revealed that R.D. Bukater was really Hailey Halpert, effectively ending her anonymity and shooting her books to the top of every major bestseller list. More people were reading them than ever, and she was cashing in big time on all of this, which hurt more than not hearing from her. It's like she was profiting off my heartache and she didn't even care.
And if she thinks that Terry is going to back off just because she won this round, she has another thing coming. Yeah, his plan to silence her to appease Drake's lawyer backfired, but the vultures are circling. Everyone who thinks they were mentioned in some way in the series now wants a piece of her.
Brooks was the first person I heard from. His early morning text went something like this.
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