by Piper Rayne
“I’m sure it will all work out.” I sip my wine.
He finishes his drink and sets it on a table nearby. “You good? I’m going to go check on them. If Mr. Gerhardt gets in Aiden’s head, it’ll be game over on his career and a huge dent in mine.”
I nod but before I actually speak, he’s gone. I release all the anxiety with a long-expelled breath from my body. This is all too familiar. I glance at the clock again. Twenty minutes until midnight. Thank God this night is almost over.
“Checking to see who you’re kissing at midnight?” Some guy walks up to me. He’s got blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and broad shoulders. The guy screams athlete, and my guess is he’s probably one of the Florida Fury hockey players. Also, he has a Russian accent so that’s a tip-off as well.
“No, I’m not.”
He leans his shoulder against the wall next to me and I slide a step away. “I saw you talking to Joran. Was he hitting on you?”
“I came here with him.”
“Oh shit. Really?” His hands fly up in the air. “Then I’ll stop hitting on you.”
I sip my wine and look at him over the edge of my wine glass.
“Want to help me pick up a woman?” he asks.
“Excuse me?”
He chuckles. “I really want to kiss her at midnight, but she gives the whole excuse of not dating athletes.” He rolls his eyes.
“There is such a thing.”
His eyebrows scrunch. “Who wouldn’t want to date an athlete?”
I shrug. “Someone who doesn’t want to constantly second guess what you might be doing when you’re out of town. Someone who doesn’t want to go crazy and be possessive because of the puck bunnies. Someone who doesn’t want to be second to a man’s career. Someone who likes their life private and not on public display. Dare I go on?”
His eyebrows move from furrowed to raised. “You talk from experience? Do I look like an athlete?”
I cock one eyebrow.
“How do you know I’m not an accountant?”
“First I pegged you for a PE teacher,” I say.
He points and laughs. “Even without my whistle?”
I laugh and he smiles like he’s glad he can pull that out of me. “Damn, maybe I should tell women that.”
“Sure, lie to them. That’s always a good way to start a relationship.”
“Whoa, lady. Slow down. Who said anything about a relationship?”
I shake my head and tip my wine glass at him. “And there’s another reason a woman doesn’t want to date an athlete, rarely are they looking for a relationship.”
He shrugs. “Well, I have a good reason.”
I stand straighter. “This should be good.”
“I’m Russian.”
“Really?” I bulge my eyes out and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“And eventually I’ll be going back there. Not many women want to relocate to Russia.”
“If she loves you, she probably would.”
He waves his finger in front of my face. “That’s where you’re wrong. She can love me and still want me to stay here.”
“Okay. I’m not going to argue a hypothetical with you. I don’t even know you.”
He looks over my shoulder. “Here comes a guy who needs to get laid tonight.”
I turn to see Aiden approaching. Taking a moment, I watch him. Straight back, confident shoulders, and an air about him that says he’s someone. I deny my urge to drool right here in front of everyone. Maybe hearing his problems with his game is pulling on my heartstrings pretty damn hard. Or maybe there’s just something about him that I’ve never noticed with anyone else.
“I know this guy isn’t your date,” Aiden says, fist-bumping the Russian. “Since he came with me.”
“Oh, so you two are on a date.” I give him a saccharine smile and point between them.
“Yeah, but we have an open relationship,” the Russian guy says.
“This is Maksim Petrov. He plays on the team too.” Aiden points to him. “This is Saige, she’s here on a date and manages social media for people.”
“You do? I need someone to do mine. I love to post, I hate the interaction.”
I laugh because that’s pretty typical, but usually it’s what they post that causes the problems. Digging into my purse, I grab a card and hand it to him. He twirls it with his finger and pockets it with a wink. “Okay, wish me luck, I’m trying one last time for at least a midnight kiss. Who wouldn’t want to kiss this guy on New Year’s Eve?” He circles his face with his finger.
“Can’t imagine who wouldn’t,” I say.
A huge grin consumes his face.
Once he leaves, Aiden turns to me. “Where is this mystery date?”
I look around. “Not sure. You just missed him.”
He glances above my head at the clock. “Fifteen minutes to midnight. If he doesn’t show, I say I’m the one who gets the kiss?”
“Hate to break it to you, but you still have to jump in the ocean.”
“I’ll jump in the ocean if you kiss me at midnight,” he says, a sexy smile on his lips.
“No. You already lost the bet. Remember that juicy orange you found only because I pointed you in the right direction?”
He laughs. “I can’t go in wearing my suit. Rain check?”
“Sure, but I should mention that men who go through with their bets really turn me on.”
He grabs my hand and tugs me toward the back door. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Ten
Paisley
Maksim Petrov keeps checking me out. The entire party so far, I’ve looked up and he’s been staring at me. Watching me cross the room. And sooner or later, he’s going to approach me again and I fear I don’t have the willpower to say no to him.
“Paisley.” Mr. Gerhardt approaches me. “I’ve barely seen Jana tonight.”
I want to say ‘me too and I’ve been stuck making small talk and dodging one of your hockey guys which is like swimming away from a shark.’
“She’s here somewhere,” I say, looking for my best friend.
“Always worrying about the details.” He tips his drink back. I’ve attended a lot of parties with Mr. Gerhardt and he’s got those glassy eyes on that says he’s had a few drinks already. But he’s a fun drunk and it’s his party, so why shouldn’t he enjoy himself? “Tell me what you are up to now?”
“Not much, I just started a private practice.”
He snaps his fingers. “Really? I thought you were still working toward your doctorate.”
“Nope, finished two years ago.”
He points to me and looks around the room. “Hey, I have a guy here. Aiden Drake.”
“Your center?”
He laughs. “I always forget you watch hockey.”
“You have a great team this year.”
He looks around again. “We just need to get Drake’s game back.”
“He will.”
“That’s where you come in. He needs a shrink,” he says.
I choke on my champagne. “Excuse me?”
“He needs someone to fix his head. I’m going to refer him to you. That should be good for your profession, right? An endorsement by Aiden Drake, center of the Florida Fury?”
“Technically, client and doctor privilege,” I say. “But have you asked him?”
“He’ll do it. He’ll do anything to get his game back at this point,” he says, finishing his drink and a server brings him another one taking the empty like they’ve been waiting in the wings for him to finish. Must be a nice life.
I’ve been best friends with his daughter, Jana, since we were freshmen in high school, and although I attended the same private school, I was on partial scholarship and Jana obviously wasn’t. The Gerhardts have taken me on so many vacations I would have never gone on. They were like my second family, so him throwing me this bone isn’t a surprise.
“I’ll get your number from Jana and give it to Aiden. Expect a call nex
t week.” Mr. Gerhardt leans in, kissing my cheek. “I can’t believe you have a doctorate already. Time flies and I’m getting old.” He laughs and leaves.
Maksim slides into his place. “You know the boss?”
I shake my head and sip my champagne.
“Silent treatment, huh? I should warn you that the harder you try to get away from me, the more I’ll chase. It’s my nature. Let me tell you about when I was eight and this coach said I didn’t have what it takes to be a professional hockey player. And I’m Russian, so you can imagine it was a dagger to the heart.”
“I promise, I’m not playing hard to get. I’m just not interested.”
His eyes fall.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re not used to being told no.”
“Not when the woman clearly wants me. I’m not asking for forever, I’m asking for a kiss at midnight, that’s all.” He holds up his hands. “You have to kiss someone, I’m not the ugliest guy here.”
I laugh. “You know it’s the truth.”
“I don’t kiss—”
“Hockey players. Maybe we should examine your dislike so much.”
“I was going to say strangers. I have no idea where that tongue has been,” I say.
He inches closer and he smells so delicious. “I never said tongue, but I’m not opposed to it.”
“You just don’t stop.” I finish my champagne and place the glass on the tray of a server.
Other servers are passing out hats and crowns and streamers. Maksim takes a hat that says Happy New Year and he hands me a crown. “You’ve got about five minutes to make your decision.”
“Or you’re going to find someone else?”
“Nah, it’s you or no one.”
“How romantic,” I sarcastically say.
“I’m not a romantic.”
“Which is my point,” I say.
“So, what’s your answer?”
“You’re in such a rush.”
“I’ll put on some Chapstick for you.” He winks and my stomach fills with flutters. Oh dear Jesus, the man is winning me over.
“How sweet. What flavor?”
He pulls out a Chapstick and I giggle like a pre-teen. “Looks like mint.”
Please help me because I’ve lost my mind, but he’s right, one kiss isn’t anything to worry about and he is Maksim Petrov, so can I really argue it?
“One kiss, no tongue.”
He chuckles. “Okay, don’t take advantage of me then.”
Everyone starts counting down and his body moves closer, his arm around me to mold to my hip and I turn to him. His blue eyes electrifying and beautiful. “Nine, eight, seven…” he continues to count, and I’m fixated on his lips. “One,” he whispers.
Cheers erupt and I close my eyes right as his lips land on mine. Damn, I should have known he’d be a great kisser. His lips soft and firm and his hands are loose but tight all in one. I sink into him and he tugs me closer, my neck straining upward to meet his height. He moans when I’m the one who slips my tongue into his mouth because if I’m going to kiss him, I’m going to fully kiss him and regret nothing.
By the time we come up for air, the room is spinning with people wishing everyone Happy New Year, but we’re staring at one another like we’re surprised a kiss could spark like that. He’s about to lean in again and I’m not going to deny him, but Mr. Gerhardt calls my name.
“Paisley!”
Maksim’s hands are off me before I can focus on Mr. Gerhardt.
“Happy New Year, Mr. Gerhardt,” I say, kissing him on the cheek.
“Happy New Year, Paisley. I see you met the big man,” he says, shaking Maksim’s hand and wishing him a Happy New Year. “He can be the first to meet our new team shrink.”
“What?” I ask, clearly hearing him wrong.
“I’m going to hire you to be the team shrink.”
“I thought you were just referring me to Aiden?”
He laughs. “Yeah, but I think all our boys could use a head shrink.”
I don’t correct him about the word shrink because it’s no use. “Seriously?”
“You come into my office in two days and we’ll negotiate.”
I glance at Maksim and he blows out a breath, rolling his eyes.
“Isn’t it great, Maksim?” Mr. Gerhardt is oblivious to Maksim’s true feelings.
“Yeah, I don’t do that shit. I don’t need any help with my head.”
My shoulders sag that he’s undermined my profession. “Really? It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Maybe for the other guys but you can count me out. Happy New Year.” He walks away and I watch his back until he disappears in the crowd.
“Don’t worry, I’m making it mandatory. If you want to play for the Florida Fury, then you’re seeing the shrink.” He points to me. “You’re the shrink.”
I nod, but I can’t really not take him up on his offer. When I left my other place to open a practice on my own, I never realized how hard it was to get started. The money from the team would help me tremendously.
“Happy New Year, I’ll see you in my office in two days.” He kisses my cheek and I smile at him.
Great, now I just have to act like that kiss with Maksim didn’t make my libido go into overdrive.
Chapter Eleven
Saige
I look right and left as he drags me from the house. Surely, Joran will see us. The worst part is I kind of hope he doesn’t. But he’s nowhere to be found, so my assumption is he’s schmoozing another client.
A few couples and groups linger outside by the stone firepit, but Aiden breezes by them and down the stairs.
“I’m in heels,” I say.
He slows down at the steps. “We’re on a time crunch.”
Stopping on the sand, he goes by a palm tree, and he shrugs off his jacket, tosses his tie and his fingers go to the buttons on his shirt. I quickly turn around, sipping the wine I’ve barely had. I should be way more drunk right now doing what I’m doing.
“How polite of you, but I’m not a shy guy,” he says from behind me.
I hear a belt unclasp and my lady bits are pleading and begging for me to turn around. Get a look at the guy.
A few minutes later, I’m patting myself on the back for having the willpower not to turn around.
“Okay, I’m going in.”
I turn and see his naked ass running toward the water. And what an ass it is. He jumps in and comes back out, his body glistening under the moonlight like he’s emerging from another planet and I’m in the middle of a dream.
My gaze falls down his strong shoulders, taut pecs, and nipples to his valley of abs. He’s got tattoos from his shoulders to his elbows and a small one on his rib cage and let me say it only ups his fuckability. He cannot be real. As I continue to soak him in, it isn’t until he’s way too close that I realize he’s naked.
I screech and turn my back to him.
“It was fucking cold so I would prefer my member not to be pre-judged.”
I bend over at the waist in full-on laughter and hear him chuckling behind me.
“I didn’t look.”
“Sure, you did. I would’ve if it was you.”
I bite my lip because of course I looked at him. And holy hell if that’s him with shrink dick, what does he look like under normal circumstances? It boggles the mind.
“I’m heading to the pool house to dry off and change. Be my lookout?”
“Sure.”
He walks by me, his clothes in his hands while he peeks around a tree before tiptoeing into the pool house. I walk up to the expensive stone patio that surrounds the pool.
I need to leave. This whole thing is only trouble. At first, I didn’t know he was Joran’s client, but now I do. Plus, he has so much hanging on the line with his career, no way do I want to impact that somehow. The man doesn’t have time for a relationship and I’m not all that big on dating a professional athlete anyway. Not that it’s a deal break
er but I definitely don’t want to date one who’s in some pivotal part of their career.
“If he doesn’t score in the next two games, you start looking,” I overhear Mr. Gerhardt’s voice say to someone and I duck under the awning from the balcony to the pool.
“You want to go after a rookie, or someone more established?” a man asks him.
“I want the best of the best. I thought I had it. I feel for the guy, I do. But I’m growing an empire here. It was supposed to be our year.” Mr. Gerhardt sounds sincere, but I see both sides. He can’t afford for Aiden to just come back around. Then again, Aiden’s probably won him a lot of games, too.
“You sure you don’t want to wait for the season to end?” the guy asks.
“No. The longer he goes without producing, the less he’ll be worth. Two games and we look at trades. That’s plenty of time before the trade deadlines.”
“Okay, consider it done.”
I close my eyes feeling pain for someone I barely know.
“But keep it quiet. The last thing I need in that locker room is news I’m getting rid of their captain.”
“Definitely. No worries.”
The door of the pool house opens, and Aiden emerges dressed back in his suit, but his dark hair is damp now. Again, his beauty takes my breath away.
“Funny thing. I checked my phone while I was in there and guess what?”
“What?”
He doesn’t stop approaching me until my back is to the wall. “It’s almost midnight.” He lifts his head and looks around. “And I don’t see your date anywhere.”
“He’s here somewhere.”
I should leave. I need to leave.
He lifts one arm and places his hand next to my head on the wall. “You’re really not going to give me a midnight kiss? You might end up being my new lucky charm.”
“Don’t go putting that kind of pressure on me.”
I press my hand on his chest to gain some space to think about what I’m doing. He might not believe I’m here with someone, but I am. Regardless of whether that guy cares to spend any time with me.
He chuckles. “Guess what jersey number I am?”
“I have no idea. One?”