Jonah: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Brenda Rothert

  He grins. “Catching bad guys is more intense than passing a puck back and forth on a sheet of ice. The pay is shit, too.”

  “I just don’t—”

  “Look.” Logan’s expression turns serious and he leans forward, elbows on his desk. “I’m not really asking. I need you to do this. The whole plan I’ve been working on for a month hinges on it.”

  “Kit’s single and I know he’d do it.”

  “It has to be you. You’re the only one I know and trust.”

  “Fuck.” I scowl at him. “You’re gonna owe me for the rest of your life.”

  He stands. “Let’s go. I’ll introduce you to Rey.”

  “What, right now? She’s here?”

  “Yep. Hope you’re wearing deodorant. You’re about to meet your fake girlfriend.”

  My heart pounds the way it does a split second before an opponent takes a shot. When I see it coming, but it hasn’t happened yet.

  “Do you know if she has any interest in me doing this?” I ask, standing.

  Logan scoffs and says, “It’s not about interest for her. She’s a professional. She could pretend to be into a troll if she needed to for a case.”

  “That’s reassuring,” I mutter.

  My brother leads the way down a hallway, around a corner and then down another hallway. He stops in front of a door, glances at me and then opens it.

  With a deep breath, I follow him in.

  A woman sits on one side of a conference table and a man sits on the other. Both of them get up. My gaze goes directly to the woman.

  “Agent Reyna Diaz, this is my brother Jonah West,” Logan says. “Jonah, this is Rey.”

  Jesus. My brother wasn’t kidding. This woman looks like Eva Mendes, curvy in all the right places, her mahogany eyes framed by long lashes and her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin is a beautiful light brown that just seems to glow. She’s the definition of a natural beauty.

  And then she smiles, and it’s like looking at a model in a toothpaste commercial. “Hi Jonah, nice to meet you.”

  I’m momentarily struck speechless, but I clear my throat and get myself together.

  “Hi, nice to meet you, too.”

  “Does this mean you’ll help with the case?”

  “He’s in,” Logan answers for me, clapping me on the back.

  “Hey Jonah, I’m Doug Jones and I work with Logan,” the man on the other side of the table says, offering me his hand to shake.

  “Great to meet you,” I say.

  “Looks like you guys are off to a great start this season,” he says.

  “Yeah, we’re finally firing on all eight.”

  “We really appreciate you taking part in this case.” He sits down and puts on a pair of dark reading glasses. “I’m sure your brother told you this Shields guy deserves to spend the rest of his life in a cell.”

  I follow the leads of Logan and Rey and sit down at the table. “He did. But I need to be honest and tell you I hardly know Darren Shields. I’ve made small talk with him a few times at events, but that’s it.”

  “That’s okay,” Rey says. “For the first month or so, we’re just going to establish that we’re dating. We’ll go out, I’ll come to your games, and we won’t make any moves toward Shields. After we’ve been established as a couple, you’ll start introducing me to teammates and taking me to events with you. That’s all I’ll need. I can establish a relationship with Shields from there.”

  “Okay,” I say, uncertain. “And you’re sure you’ll be okay? If he suspects something is off—”

  “He won’t. As long as you don’t breathe a word of the truth about us to anyone, he won’t suspect a thing.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You can’t tell your coach, your teammates, even your own family,” Rey presses. “Everyone has to believe it for this to work.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  She looks skeptical. “Even if you meet someone you really do want to ask out, you can’t tell them, either.”

  Damn, this woman doesn’t let up.

  “Listen, I get it,” I say, more firmly this time. “I won’t say a word.”

  “Okay, good,” she concedes. “Because I like not getting shot.”

  “Look, I’m willing to do this. But trust works both ways. I don’t know what my team’s owner will think about me helping put a VIP in prison when the time comes, but I’m willing to risk it because it’s the right thing to do.”

  She holds my gaze for a few silent seconds before nodding. I’m starting to see that the dazzling smile on Rey’s exterior is a mask disguising the tough, stubborn woman on the inside.

  “So you guys met this afternoon at the deli a block over,” Logan says. “Jonah stopped by here to see me and then grabbed lunch there. You were standing in line next to each other, struck up a conversation and he asked Rey to go out this weekend.”

  “I’ll be in Vancouver this weekend,” I say.

  “What’s your next free night?”

  “Sunday.”

  Logan nods. “You asked her out for Sunday night. You guys can take it from there. And Jonah, remember—no going off script unless it’s an emergency and you know you’re secure. You need to come up with a signal for each other if you need to go off script and Rey will make sure you’re in a secure place to do it.”

  “I’m a freelance journalist who writes about makeup,” Rey says. “Once I figure out how all that works, I’ll fill you in.”

  “Okay. I’m a goalie.”

  She takes out her phone and asks, “Can I get your number?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I take out my phone and we exchange numbers.

  “Just text me later like we met at the deli and ask about a date,” she says.

  I nod. “Okay. Anything else you guys need from me?”

  “I don’t think so,” Logan says. “Just remember, stay on script unless you and Rey are in a secure place. And you can swing by here anytime you want to and talk to me here, but don’t go off script over the phone.”

  “I’m just gonna ask her out and play along from there until someone tells me to do otherwise.”

  “Are you okay with me staying some nights at your place?” Rey asks. “Once the curtains are closed, I can just sleep on the couch.”

  “Yeah, that’s no problem. I’ve got a guest room.”

  “And you’re okay with…kissing me?”

  There’s a challenge in her tone, and something primal inside me answers before I have time to even think about it.

  “Yeah, I’ll kiss you right now if you want.”

  She smiles and looks away. “No, we can do it at the end of the date.”

  “Kiss, you mean?”

  She looks puzzled as she says, “Yes.”

  “Okay, because when you said, do it at the end of the date, I was confused since I know you already said you’re not sleeping with me.”

  “Jonah,” Logan warns.

  Rey holds her chin level as she says, “I’ll make myself clearer from now on.”

  I grin at her. “I’m yanking your chain. I promise I won’t actually hit on you. I’d never try to coerce you into anything, okay? I want you to know I’m on your side in all this.”

  She looks relieved. “Thank you for that. I promise I’ll be as unobtrusive as I possibly can.”

  Logan gets up and heads toward the door, and I follow. I still can’t believe this is what he wanted me to come by for. It’s surreal to be helping with a police investigation, especially by pretending to be dating someone.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he says.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I say to Reyna. “Nice to meet you, Sgt. Jones.”

  “You too, and thanks again.”

  My brother walks down the empty hallway with me in silence. I look over at him and he’s grinning.

  “I told you, right?” he says. “Bet you’ll end up liking this. Liking her.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sure she’s great, but I’m not inter
ested in dating. I like my life.”

  “Okay, well…you can go back to bachelorhood as soon as this is over.”

  With a single note of laughter, I say, “I’m not leaving bachelorhood, man. This is all just gonna be an act.”

  “Well, at least be convincing, will you? Don’t make her do everything by herself.”

  “Don’t worry about it, man. I’ll be the most convincing fake boyfriend she’s ever had.”

  “You’d better, or I’ll kick your ass.”

  I laugh. “I’d like to see you try. You spend too much time behind a desk to kick my ass.”

  Logan rolls his eyes and then meets my gaze, his more serious than just a moment ago. “Hey, when this is all over, if you’re not interested in asking her out for real…I might be.”

  I give my brother a surprised look, because like me, he’s focused on his work and doesn’t date much.

  “Have at it, man,” I say.

  “Not until later. We need to stay focused on the case for now.”

  We reach the elevator doors, and he holds his hand out to shake mine. “Seriously Jonah, I really appreciate this. This is one of those cases that’s hit me hard, and I want to get this guy bad.”

  “You got it,” I tell him. “But you really are gonna owe me for the next thirty years or so.”

  Chapter Five

  Reyna

  Kai’s apartment is in the basement level of a sprawling, red brick complex on the North Side. I knock on the door, and when he answers, he welcomes me like we already know each other.

  “Hey, Renee, come on in,” he says, standing aside. “What’s up, girl?”

  He’s a couple inches shorter than I am, maybe 5’6” and built lean. His black hair is shaved short on the sides and back. The top is several inches long and combed back in a sleek look. But my gaze only lingers on his hair for a moment, because his face draws me in.

  His skin is a beautiful olive shade, his makeup contoured perfectly. His big hazel eyes are enhanced with shades of green and gold eyeshadow with long, dramatic fake lashes. A pretty nude shade on his lips finishes the look.

  “Wow,” I say, forgetting all my training about playing it cool. “You’re…stunning.”

  Kai laughs lightly. “Aw, thank you. I just finished recording about thirty minutes ago. I got this new liquid shadow from Dior and it’s divine. I just had to play with it.”

  “I’d love to see it,” I say, remembering that I’m supposed to be a beauty blogger.

  “Perks of being roommates, we can share products,” he says, giving me a dazzling smile.

  His clothes are the opposite of his makeup—nondescript black skinny pants and a gray V-neck T-shirt.

  “Sounds perfect,” I say, looking around the apartment.

  Like him, it’s not at all what I was expecting. Even though it’s at the basement level, the apartment is brightly lit, with warm wood floors. Bold, colorful art is displayed on the living room walls and the large room has a big leather sofa and several bright overstuffed chairs.

  “Wow,” I murmur. “This place is amazing. So much bigger than I was expecting in the city.”

  “Thank you. I bought both basement apartments and some storage space and had it all renovated into,” he gestures a hand around the room, “this.”

  “How old are you?” I ask him, shaking my head with wonder.

  “Twenty-six. But my business took off when I was twenty, so I feel like I’ve been around a while.” He shrugs. “Want to see the rest of the place?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Kai takes me into the kitchen, which is done in white and gray, with marble counters and commercial-grade stainless-steel appliances. It looks like a spread in a home decor magazine, every inch designed to perfection.

  “This is where I microwave my ramen and store my Pellegrino,” Kai quips. “I’m a huge fan of carryout, but I wanted a great kitchen in case I ever decide to take up cooking.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” I say, grinning.

  I already know Kai and I are going to get along great. When I heard I’d be rooming with the son of a deputy police chief, I wasn’t expecting this. I assumed it would be a guy who either had women in and out of the apartment all the time or was a slob, or both.

  But Kai already reminds me of myself. I can tell he’s a centered, independent person.

  “This is my bedroom,” he says as he leads me down a hallway and opens a door.

  The walls are painted a soft, buttery shade of yellow and portraits of people with both masculine and feminine characteristics hang on the walls. I stand in front of one showing the profile of a person with a neatly trimmed mustache, hoop earrings and long red curls.

  Standing next to me, Kai blows out a breath. “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  “What?” I ask, turning to him.

  “Having someone here. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m extremely private and I’ve only had like two other people in my apartment before.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and showing you my kitchen is one thing, but my bedroom…”

  My heart clenches as I instinctively put my hand on Kai’s arm. “Hey, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to let me anywhere you’re not comfortable with.”

  He takes a deep breath and smiles. “No, I want to. I trust you because of…well, I’ll tell you later. But I just…”

  “I understand,” I say softly.

  “These portraits I commissioned are of people who are very special to me,” he says, clearing his throat. “Even though I’ve never met some of them.”

  “Why are they special to you?”

  His eyes glisten as he says, “They’re the first people who made me feel like it’s okay to be me. I’m non-binary, as you probably already guessed.”

  I want to hug him, even though I know it’s not the right move. I don’t know him well enough for that. A lump wells in my throat as I try to come up with the right words.

  “Let me show you my new recording booth,” he says, walking across the room.

  He opens a door and I follow him there, walking into an enormous closet lined with shelves and drawers from floor to ceiling. There’s an island in the middle of the closet with a round vase set on top filled with fresh white roses.

  Only about a third of the closet is being used, and in one corner a small booth has been installed. It has to be the soundproof safe communication area Logan had put in so Kai and I can talk without worrying about being overheard.

  Kai walks in and I follow, making sure the door is latched before I say, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he says, smiling. “We meet at last.”

  “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I do.” He sits down on one of the two rudimentary plywood seats in the booth. “My dad wants me to do this because I’ve been getting death threats, and he said he’ll sleep better at night knowing there’s an FBI agent here with me.”

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

  Kai shrugs. “It goes with the territory. I don’t know if you looked me up, but I have fifteen million IG followers. I make my living as a public figure, but like I said, I’m actually very private.”

  “So you’ve filed a police report about these death threats, right?”

  “Yes, and that was hard for me because I had to do it under my legal name. I disguised myself as just a regular guy for it and…” He takes a shaky breath. “It was just hard. All of it is hard. People want to kill me because of who I am.”

  “People can be assholes,” I say hotly. “Who you are is pretty amazing from what I can see.”

  A small smile dances on his lips. “Thanks.”

  “I want you to keep me in the loop on these death threats, okay? Anything threatening you receive. If you need me to go with you when you go out, just let me know.”

  His expression relaxes. “Thank you. I knew this was the right thing to do; it’s why my dad volunteered me for it. But it’s
always been hard for me to…show people who I am. Those portraits in my bedroom…I had no idea how it would feel for another person to see those. I felt like I was standing naked in front of you and you were just looking at me from head to toe, trying to decide if I’m male or female.”

  “All I care about is this,” I say, pointing to Kai’s heart.

  He breaks into a huge smile, tears shining in his eyes. “I feel like we’re already friends, and I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “No? Why not?”

  He looks away, laughing nervously. “When my dad suggested this, I was completely against it at first. I told him I’d need to know everything about you to even consider it, so he got me as much information about you as he could from the FBI. That’s why I said I trust you already, because I know a little bit about your background.”

  “There’s not much to know,” I say, laughing. “I’m a half Cuban workaholic who was raised by my tata, my grandma.”

  “You’ve got a reputation as a badass. My dad couldn’t tell me a lot of specifics, but he made some calls and he said you’re a fighter and you love sticking up for the underdog.”

  I warm from head to toe with pride. “I can’t think of a better compliment than that. I’ve devoted my life to helping people who can’t help themselves.”

  “And even though my dad couldn’t tell me what kind of case you’re working on, he told me that when it’s over and I find out, I’ll be really glad I was some small part of it.”

  “You will, if I do my job well.”

  He holds my gaze before saying, “I have a penis, is that going to be a problem?”

  My mouth drops open in surprise. “A problem for me? Why would it be a problem?”

  “Those are the questions non-binary, genderqueer people get. What genitals we have, what we were born as, whether we plan to get rid of those parts, what bathroom we use, and so on.”

  I put up a hand to stop him. “Okay, not one of those things is my business, nor is it anyone else’s. Those people need to fuck all the way off.”

  He laughs. “I agree. I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable.”

  I practically melt at his look of vulnerability. “I’m completely comfortable. More importantly, are you?”