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I want to walk out.

But leaving would mean explaining. And I can’t explain any of this—not to them, and sure as hell not to him.

“You want it to look real?” I ask, voice even.

Riley nods.

I glance at Liam again. At that unreadable expression. That storm under the surface.

“Fine,” I say. “Let’s fake it.”

But even as I say it, I feel the guilt creeping in. Except now my brain’s screaming, Abort mission!

Too late.

I nodded. I agreed. I just told my boss I’d fake date the man who wrecked me so thoroughly I still get flashbacks when I close my eyes—flashbacks that make my thighs clench and my heart forget how to function.

My voice said yes. My guts screaming no.

But my job’s on the line. The career I’ve bled for, clawed up from nothing. If this is what it takes to protect it—even if it means lying to my brother, the guy who would torch the league to keep me safe—I’ll fake it.

Even if it’s with the man who made my body sing... and might not even remember the damn lyrics.

I can’t tell if I want to throw up or jump his bones.

But I’m gambling everything on a maybe.

Because if Griffin finds out?

I’ll need a new job. A new name. And probably a seat on the first bus to witness protection.

All I’ll have left is one earth-shattering memory…

And no one to call when the crap hits the fan.

Chapter seventeen

Liam

Idropthebarbelllikeit burned me.

Metal crashes against rubber, the thud echoing off gym walls, but it doesn’t make a dent in the frustration rattling my bones.

I’m sweating through my shirt, muscles screaming—but none of it’s enough. I could lift until something tears and it still wouldn’t shut up the noise in my head.

Fake fucking boyfriend.

That’s the headline. That’s the circus Riley roped me into. And not just to anyone.

To Katarina Novak.

The woman with a mouth built for war and legs that haunt my goddamn sleep. The sister of the guy who’d rather see me flattened on the ice than breathing.

And now I’m supposed to hold her hand and smile like none of it matters.

I yank off my gloves and slam them onto the bench beside me.

It’s not just the fake-dating bullshit. It’s her.