Page 67

The last part slips out of my mouth, and she smiles.
“Say I agree to this plan of yours. What happens if he relapses? And you know Jax isn’t capable of fake dating, right?”
There’s no straightforward solution to this. Jackson is already attached, and if he wants her half as bad as I do, he won’t fuck it up.
If he does, it’s ultimately better for me. I have a three-year contract with the team, and this infatuation of his needs to run its course. I can wait him out.
“He’s going to pursue you either way. That train left the station long ago. And, as far as I know, he quit drinking. I fired the staff who ignored his addiction and hired a sports doctor with experience in substance use. If he relapses, I swear, I’ll drag him from whatever hole he crawled into and knock some sense into him.”
Her eyes soften, and her face lights up. “You did all that?”
“Along with revoking his father’s privileges to our locker room and training facility, yeah.”
“Wow,” she nearly whispers. “Thank you.”
The adoration in her gaze takes my breath away. She’s thanking me for doing what’s right. I did it for Jackson and the team, unintentionally giving Aurora her boyfriend back. Yay me.
I roll my shoulders, releasing the tension in my neck. “I promise I won’t stand by and let him mistreat you. If he does, you break up with him. People break up.” A smug smile plays on my lips.
She shakes her head. “I don’t get you. You make comments such as that, tell me you think about me and don’t consider this a mistake, but you’re pushing me toward someone else.”
There’s that brutal honesty I both love and hate.
“You’re a decade younger than me.” I shrug, the playfulness lost. “I’m too jaded. A committed relationship isn’t in the cards for me. But you and Jackson”—I picture them together, the supermodel and the superstar—“make a hell of a lot more sense. And if, by some miracle, you choose me…can you at least wait until the end of the season?” I jest, but I’m more than somewhat serious.
I caught my ex cheating and still finished the hockey season before planning my divorce, enduring months of daily business meetings with the prick she was fucking behind my back.
A player missing a game differs from a coach blundering everyone’s year. I need to stay focused.
Even with all that said, I know I’m fooling myself. If she wants me, I won’t resist. She’ll be my entire world.
Which is why I need to distance myself.
“I guess you’re unhappy with my March due date?” She beams, and relief washes over me.
“Not ideal, but preferable to playoffs. I’d have to disown you then.” I return her smile, then joke, “Maybe we need to add a fourth person to this love triangle. That way, someone can be with you during the season?”
Her answer is immediate. “Oh, don’t worry. I have Ricky.” And the way she sings his name triggers something within me.
“Who’s that?” Unable to hide my jealousy, my tone comes out harder than intended.
She cocks her head and bites her bottom lip. “None of your business, Blackwood.”
That playful teasing and mischievous gaze gets me every fucking time.
“Aurora,” I warn, unsure if I’m more irritated by this Ricky bastard or her flirtatious manner. Shit, I’m irritated by another man. “Who is he?”
“Just my bodyguard,” she says too sweetly.
“Consider him fired.”
“You don’t get to make decisions. You’re not my boyfriend, remember?”
Oh, we’ll see about that.
TWENTY-FIVE
AURORA