On top of that, I am now expected to manage a pretend relationship with a woman I don’t want to pretend with. Ever since Ellie agreed, I’ve been having second thoughts. Not because I don’t want to get my hands on her, that’s for damn sure. But as much as I want that, I don’t want to damage the friendship we do have in the process. Ten years ago, I would’ve been gung-ho, probably already trying to get into her panties, but at this point in my life, I’ve mellowed some.
I still want to get into her panties, mind you, but I’m more than willing to work for the reward.
“We’ll figure it out,” Spencer told me when I admitted I was worried about this being hard on me and Ellie. “You settling down in a relationship will be big news, man. The media’s gonna go fucking nuts.”
Pretend relationship, I reminded him. And that is the key. Since my brain doesn’t see anything pretend about it, I’m having to spend too much time worrying about it. And to think, we haven’t even set the plan in motion yet.
But Spencer and Amber are right about one thing. Once word gets out, the media will definitely be interested in the news, but that means I have to break it to them. At the moment, I’m not sure how to do that and not screw it all up.
I recall my conversation with Ellie yesterday at the rink. Admittedly, I don’t mind the whole pretend-girlfriend thing, but truthfully, I’m hoping it’ll turn into something more. Some might accuse me of manipulating the situation; I consider it grabbing an opportunity. If Phoenix and Coach think it’ll be good for my image, and potentially appease the nosy fucking reporters and, most importantly, the fans, I’m game.
Spending time with Ellie Kaufman damn sure won’t be a hardship. I’ve been wanting this day to come for too long. Granted, I’ve envisioned it a little differently. Pretend wasn’t used to describe it, that’s for sure.
Regardless of how it has come about, it’s going to be on my terms, just as I told her. I don’t like the fact that Spencer has taken to dictating how this will work. He isn’t a damn saint, so it feels hypocritical that he’s focusing all of his energy on me. Then again, I can tell Spencer is worried about me. I lost my shit at the end of the season and it didn’t help anyone.
I pull up my Internet app and notice there’s a browser open and it’s on Facebook.
Strange.
I have an app for that, so I’m not sure why…
I glance at the name on the screen: Belle K.
Huh?
I glance at the profile picture. That’s … Bianca. So, who the hell is Belle K? For some reason, it sounds familiar. Her full name’s Bianca Noelle Kaufman. Ahh. It’s a combination of her first and middle names. Maybe that’s the thing these days, to not use a real name. Regardless, that is definitely her picture, and it makes sense because I loaned my phone to Bianca yesterday.
Looks as though Ellie’s daughter forgot to close it when she was finished, which is how I find myself looking at Bianca’s Facebook profile. Trying my best not to be nosy, I move my finger toward the little X at the top of the screen, but before I can get there, something catches my attention.
The fuck?
Bianca’s last post was at four thirty yesterday, which would’ve been right before they left the rink. My name’s Bianca and I’m looking for my biological father, whom I’ve never met. My mom doesn’t know him other than his name is James and she met him when she was in Las Vegas when she was twenty-one.
I continue to read, my jaw damn near hitting the floor.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
I exhale and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, staring at the picture of Ellie on the post. It had to have been taken fourteen years ago or so. Probably close to the time when Ellie went to Las Vegas to celebrate her twenty-first birthday—the year she insisted that she was grown up, capable of doing things her way. I remember because Spencer had insisted that he go with her, just to keep an eye on things, and she’d adamantly refused him. Her brother hadn’t been happy.
Of course, Spencer had damn near gone postal when she announced that she was pregnant. I specifically recall her brother threatening to castrate the son of a bitch who had taken advantage of his sister. It hadn’t been a completely irrational reaction, although it had pissed Ellie off. She’d handled it well, right up until Spencer practically demanded she get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Ellie had informed him, not so sweetly, that she’d already done that and for him to stay out of her business.
It’d been a rough couple of weeks until Spencer finally calmed down. I had done my absolute best to stay out of it.
I glance at the message notification icon on the screen. It isn’t showing any unread messages, which is a good thing. I don’t want to completely invade Bianca’s privacy, but I would’ve been compelled to look.
I wonder if Ellie or Spencer know about this. Surely Spencer would’ve said something if Ellie was actively looking for Bianca’s father. Then again, it isn’t like Spencer has to tell me everything, but we are like brothers, so I can’t see him not saying something.
Fuck.
Should I ask Ellie?
What if she doesn’t know?
Should I tell her?
“Fuck.” I brush my hand down my face, over my beard, then reach for my water.
It really is none of my business. If Bianca is looking for her father, that’s a good thing, right? I know that Ellie has been open and honest about the pregnancy. She never tried to hide anything about the man. And yes, I know the guy’s name is James. As the story goes, Ellie met him in a casino, invited him to a club, and then later that night, they went back to her room and things happened. According to her, they used a condom but something obviously went wrong. Ellie has also admitted that she was the one to sneak out, leaving the guy asleep when she headed to the airport for home the next morning.
I take another drink as I continue to stare at the picture. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is it my place to tell Ellie? Obviously Bianca wouldn’t want me seeing this, so I know she accidentally left it open. Should I pretend I don’t know?
And what if Bianca does find her father? What if he shows up in Ellie’s life unexpectedly? What if…?
I set my water down with a thud.
What if Ellie sees him again and falls in love with him?
Okay, now that is an incredibly selfish thought. It shouldn’t bother me whether or not Bianca’s father shows up out of the blue and Ellie falls head-over-heels in love with him and they have a perfect little family.
But it does.
Bother me.
A lot.
A hell of a lot more than it should.
Absently, I rub my chest, right over my heart, as another selfish thought takes root.
What if I never get a chance with Ellie because I’ve been too loyal to take a chance in the first place?
Then it dawns on me. I do have a chance. And it has been dropped at my feet.
Ellie is going to be my pretend girlfriend for the foreseeable future. Which means she will be in my life. She’ll get a chance to see the real me, not the one the rest of the world sees.
Shit.
Now I have to figure out a way not to fuck this up, too.
With that thought, I grab my phone and shoot a text to Ellie.
Ellie
I arrive at the Penalty Box at exactly seven o’clock, just as I promised Noelle I would. It was a mad rush picking Bianca up from school, stopping by the rink to once again chat with Amber, dropping Bianca at home, making her dinner, and then damn near breaking every speed law to get back here, but I made it. A little sweaty, maybe, but testing one’s deodorant is never a bad thing. I only hope mine holds up.
“Hey, Ellie!”
Noelle’s younger sister, Julie, practically tackles me when I step into the restaurant, running right up to me and giving me a skinny-armed bear hug that makes me wonder how we don’t bounce apart when our boobs collide. Like beach balls. Or water balloons. It’s an odd
visual, but one that makes me smile. With a chuckle, I hug the woman quickly.
“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s gonna be cool working here for a few months,” Julie rambles, her eyes lit with excitement.
I try to hide my confusion, but based on Julie’s frown, I fail.
“Noelle called. Asked me if I’d fill in for a while?”
I raise my eyebrows, hoping Julie will elaborate.
“I know how busy the season is. From what Noelle told me, you’ll be gone a lot.”
Oh, right.
Hockey season.
Kingston.
Pretend girlfriend.
“I told her this came at a perfect time since I’m taking the year off from school. Trying to save some money, you know. I’ve been helping out at my friend’s day care, but the whole kid thing … it’s not easy for me. This is so much better.”
I must’ve forgotten how much Julie rambles.
“So, here I am and I’m excited to be helping out. I can work whatever hours you need, whenever you need me. Just holler. I’ll come running.”
I nod. “Gotcha.”
Without taking a breath, Julie blurts out, “Is it true that you’re dating Kingston Rush?”
Obviously it is now.
Before I get to answer, Noelle strolls up, a huge grin on her face.
“Hey. I see you two’ve had a chance to talk,” she offers as she breezes on by.
“We have,” I call after her, narrowing my eyes. Noelle knows I don’t like surprises.
Granted, I like Julie. She’s like a kid sister to me. She has filled in for us before, usually on a part-time basis when one of us needed time off. Julie is one of the few people we’ve had working here who can easily handle damn near any job we ask, including tackling multiple tasks at a time without getting frazzled. There are times on big game nights when things get chaotic, customers will end up waiting at the door for over an hour just to get in, but Julie usually keeps things calm and under control. Probably doesn’t hurt that Julie chooses to wear a white button-down shirt and jeans that look as though they quite possibly could be a size too small. Oh, and she looks like she’s all of sixteen, though she celebrated her twenty-seventh birthday this year.
“Well, I’m looking forward to having you here,” I tell her, purposely ignoring her last question as I take a step back. “I’m just gonna put my purse in my office.”
“Okay. See you in a bit,” Julie says, her expression going from peppy to ecstatic as she peers over my shoulder.
I’m not sure I want to know what (or who) Julie is looking at, so I pretend not to notice. That lasts all of ten seconds before I feel big, beefy arms wrap around me, warm breath tickling my neck.
So, it’s in this moment that the world pauses, the air stops blowing, all the people cease their chattering, and all movement stops. Like in the movies when people are suspended in time. Every one of my senses focuses on the two strong arms curled around me, the intoxicating scent that fills my nostrils, the strength of the chest that presses against me. And for three solid seconds, nothing matters except how freaking good it feels to have this man actually touching me. I’ve imagined it, but this … this makes my body hum, and I don’t want it to end.
Unfortunately, it does. The world comes into focus, the noise returns, people are once again animated. I’m still standing here in the circle of Kingston’s arms, and I can only think that I haven’t had sex in three freaking years.
Crap.
“Hey, babe. You didn’t answer my text.”
“Hey,” I reply to Kingston, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. It’s not like I can admit that I’ve never been this turned on by such limited physical contact before. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”
“You would’ve if you answered your text.”
Right. I saw Kingston’s text but hadn’t yet had time to answer. He mentioned something about a date, and since tonight isn’t a good night, I opted to hold off on responding. I make a mental note to do so in the future or risk having him show up unannounced.
Not that I mind, but again, I’m not a fan of surprises.
I manage to extricate myself from his bear hug, then turn to face him.
When I meet those dark brown eyes, I see a twinkle of mischief there.
The man really is obscenely attractive. Especially when he looks as casual as he does now, wearing a plain black T-shirt that stretches across his impressive upper body, hugging every glorious plane and angle.
Oh, and he smells so good.
Realizing Julie is still watching us, I smile at her. “I’m just gonna … go put my purse up.”
“Cool.” Julie is staring at Kingston like a cheerleader with a crush on the football captain.
“You got this?” I nod toward a couple standing at the front waiting to be seated.
“Yes, ma’am,” she says cheerfully as she spins around and practically skips over to the hostess stand. “Welcome to the Penalty Box. We’re so excited you’re here.”
Funny how Julie actually sounds as though she is genuinely thrilled that those two strangers have chosen this particular restaurant to frequent tonight. Maybe that’s part of her charm.
I chuckle, then remember that I have an uber-sexy hockey player at my back. I turn to find Kingston watching me closely, his dark eyes even darker, as though he’s thinking something devious and dirty. Knowing him, he is.
I swallow hard because it seems the Sahara Desert has relocated to my throat, then head through the dimly lit place toward my office in the back, waving to the bartender and two of the waitresses who are already serving drinks to the dinner crowd.
When I step into the hallway, the country music that is playing in the bar fades, and the only sounds are those of my labored breaths and the footsteps of the big man behind me.
“Are you following me?” I ask, peering at Kingston over my shoulder.
“Nothing gets by you, yeah?”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, let me rephrase that. Why are you following me?”
I open my office door and step inside, Kingston right on my heels.
“That’s what boyfriends do, no?”
“Kingston…” I spin around to face him, ready to tell him that there is no reason to pretend when no one is around, but his hand covers my mouth before the words are out.
The sexy smirk on his lips makes my inner muscles clench. I am more than a little tempted to lick his hand. Just because.
“From here on out, we’re going to pretend. All the time. That’s the deal, yeah?”
I nod, his big, warm hand still covering my mouth. Being this close to him… My knees suddenly feel like noodles, and my body temperature is steadily climbing.
“Good. So there’s no reason for you to deny it. The less you do, the more people will believe it.”
I lift an eyebrow, a signal for him to remove his hand.
He clearly understands because his hand falls to his side, but his eyes never leave my face.
“That doesn’t mean you have to follow me to my office. Sitting at the bar, having a drink would work, too.”
Kingston grins, his gaze scanning the tiny space where sometimes paperwork gets done. “I wanted to see your office.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen it before.” Truthfully, I have no idea because I can’t think past three minutes ago when he first put his arms around me.
Nor do I care.
His eyes meet mine again. “Yeah, but I haven’t seen it since you became my girlfriend.”
The deep rumble of his voice finds its way into me, swirling around and causing a delicious tingle that starts between my legs. What it is about him that infatuates me so much, I can’t possibly explain. Maybe it’s that rough baritone. Or his rugged good looks. Perhaps it’s his near-perfect physique. Or it could be the fact that when you step into a room with Kingston in it, there is absolutely no question who is in charge. The man exudes a ridiculous amount of masculine power.
Whatever it
is, it should be illegal to be that damn sexy.
I cock an eyebrow. “Whatever.”
Trying to pretend he doesn’t affect me nearly as much as he does, I go to the safe in the wall, unlock it, and slide my purse inside.
“You done admiring my office?” I ask when I turn back to find him staring at my ass.
That smirk returns and my nipples harden.
I ignore them.
Knowing I can’t be distracted because I have a job to do, I shake off the ill-timed lust and head back out to the bar. My moment of weakness a thing of the past.
The night passes by quickly, which isn’t surprising considering how busy we’ve been. Although we cater to all sports, hockey is our main priority, hence the name. Wednesday nights are generally slow—relatively speaking. Most of the Arrows games are played on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and the occasional Friday. Of course, there are the Wednesday Night Rivalry games, but since those haven’t yet included many teams from our division, it’s not usually a big deal. That makes Wednesday somewhat of a rest day for us. However, all bets are off on nights before home games.
Since the Penalty Box happens to be the official hangout for the Austin Arrows players, we’ve come to expect a certain amount of business. With the season underway and the first official game only two days away, the fans are beginning to emerge once more, eager for their hockey fix.
Occupancy usually doubles when the players show up. And tonight they did.
Some of the favorites made an appearance—Patrick Benne, Mattias Valeri, Colton Seguine, Jesse Evans, and Josh Locke—keeping things lively. Since that’s a frequent occurrence, it doesn’t bother me that things haven’t gotten completely out of hand.
Luckily, we’ve had zero incidents to deal with, which, unlike our frequent clientele, isn’t always the case. At the Penalty Box, the theoretical two-year-old-mashed-potato-fight occurs damn near every night—and once it even happened for real (funny, since we don’t serve mashed potatoes). Then again, I’m mostly in the business of booze and sports, and with so much testosterone in the place, things tend to get a little heated, especially as the night wears on.
The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) Page 10