Page 21 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

WHITEBOARD NOTE

Kieran here formally requesting more baked goods please xxx

L aughter bursts from my chest. Of all the things he could have said, that was not what I was expecting.

I was prepared to answer questions—a lot of them. I was also ready to explain why I needed the money. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to not even bat an eye at the amount I demanded.

I’ve never done this before. It took me two hours to talk myself into walking through his front door, and in the end, the number wasn’t a big deal to him.

In hindsight, some part of me knew it wouldn’t be. The man makes millions a year. But it’s huge for me. It will potentially save my mother’s life, and that is why I’m here saying yes.

At the horrified look that enters his gaze at my laugh, I rush forward, my hands outstretched. “Oh god! Sorry, no, I’m not laughing at you! It’s just—” I come to a stop before him, having to tilt my head back to peer into his blue eyes. My stomach flips. “You don’t care about the money? At all? ”

He looses a long breath. “No, you’ll be putting yourself in the spotlight. There was always going to be compensation for the role.” He licks his lips, and I can’t help but track the movement.

Warmth pools in my belly.

This is why I didn’t want to do this. How am I supposed to keep our working relationship intact when he licks his lips and it makes me want to hump him like a dog?

Shaking my head to clear the thoughts, I lift my gaze once more to find him smirking. “I suppose Lucy has another giant folder of documents for me to sign?”

He winces. “Most likely.”

It looks as if he’s about to apologize, so I jump in. “It’s okay, I understand. If this came out, I’m sure it would only tarnish your name further.”

Suddenly, I realize how close we’re standing. His chest nearly brushing mine as it rises and falls, the flush to his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes. Taking a step back as goosebumps line my arms, I take a measured seat on the couch, watching as Grayson does the same.

It seems I’m not the only one hyperaware.

“I feel you need to know why I’m doing this.”

My head cocks from side to side. “If you feel comfortable sharing, yes, I would like to know why we’re doing this.”

He rubs the back of his neck, which I’m discovering is a nervous tick of his. When he turns to me, his cheeks are slightly flushed. “I haven’t been performing well, not as well as I should be considering my contract. I’ve also been a PR nightmare for the team as of late, which I’m sure you know.”

“Actually, I don’t. I didn’t google you. I wanted to make my own assumptions.”

He blinks quickly, shock taking over until a smile blossoms across his cheeks, growing with every passing second he stares at me. “That’s…refreshing.”

I shrug. “You couldn’t google my life history, so I figured I’d give you the same courtesy.”

Grayson’s blue eyes spark. “Well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty and my recent stint was the organization’s last straw.” He grimaces. “They have every right to evaluate me as a player, but it was the wake-up call I needed.”

I nod, wishing he would tell me more but not wanting to push. “And how do I come into the equation?”

“Right!” he says, shaking his head as his small chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. “The player they’re thinking of replacing me with is a family man that, despite being a raging dick and serial cheater, somehow manages to not get any negative press.”

My eyes widen. “Raging dick?”

“ Raging. ”

I whistle. “So, I’m going to be perceived as…what? The woman that made you settle down?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, eyes sparking as they heat. “Precisely.”

I’m nodding, a thousand thoughts flooding my mind at once until I start at the top of my mental to-do list that I crafted when I decided I’d say yes to his proposition.

“We should establish the ground rules for this.”

His brow quirks. “Ground rules?”

“What exactly you need from me and when. Do I go to all your games now or is it just in the press? What boundaries do we have for one another? We should establish it all because if there isn’t communication during this it will get…messy.”

Messy as in I need to know that if you kiss me it’s fake, just so I don’t let my libido run away from me and get the impression you find me attractive.

A lightning bolt of heat strikes through my body. I’m going to have to kiss him, and something tells me I’m going to love it more than I should. But I can’t say that, so I settle on repeating, “Ground rules.”

He looks at me dubiously. “Have you done this before?”

I snort, then bark with shocked laughter. “God no. My best friend Layla reads a lot; she told me the best way to move forward.”

“What does this have to do with reading?”

“I honestly have no idea. She blushes and clamps up if you ask her.” I wave my hand in the air. “We’re getting off track. Ground rules. What does this fake relationship look like? How do we convince everyone you’re on the straight and narrow?”

He rubs his palm over his five o’clock shadow and I have the strongest urge to trail my fingers down the stubble, to feel it tickle my sensitive skin.

Men aren’t trustworthy. Men break hearts. Men are unreliable.

That is the mantra that will get me through this to see my mother alive and well.

I just need to keep reminding myself that despite him appearing shy and adorable and ruggedly sexy with his wavy brown locks and perfectly chiseled face, he is still a man, and he will break my heart if I don’t remember that everything moving forward is fake.

He looks around the living room as if it will give him the answers he seeks and I suppose it does because something sparks in his gaze before he straightens and turns back to me with a hint of mischievousness.

“I suppose it would look like you attending any home games and team events during the season, and me taking you on dates.”

I’m nodding along, my brain running a thousand steps ahead.

“Home games. I can do?—”

“We usually all go to a bar downtown after home games. It would be odd if you didn’t come to those.”

“Home games and celebrations after.” I wink. “Or commiserating drinks.”

He guffaws. “If you were my real girlfriend you’d have a lot more faith in my ability.”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum under my breath. “What else?” I ask, steering us back to the topic at hand.

He blows out a breath. “During the season, press is really heavy and I suppose this is all for good publicity, so a date a week? Perhaps two? Depending on our schedules.”

“Public solo appearances, done.”

He pauses, those blue eyes snagging on my brown. “Are you making a mental list?”

My back straightens and I run my fingers through my hair, a nervous tick of mine. “No, why would you say that?” Of course I’m making a mental list, but he doesn’t need to know the depths of how neurotic they can be.

His eyes seem to peer all the way to my soul before a lopsided grin takes over.

Before he can spew whatever he’s about to say, I click my tongue. “Back to the topic. Is there anything else?”

A blush explodes across his cheeks as he adverts his gaze from mine. In a second, that cocky smirk is gone, replaced by a shyness that surprisingly warms my belly.

Ducking my head, I try to catch his gaze once more. “Open communication is the only way this will work.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you.” He blows out a frustrated breath before blurting, “We need to discuss intimacy.”

I nod along slowly, my heart leaping at the words. I knew this conversation would happen, and I prepared myself by practicing schooling my features so he doesn’t see the way my body reacts at the thought of him touching me. I bite my lip to stop the smile that threatens to twitch upwards.

So much for schooling my expression.

“Are you usually an affectionate person?” I ask coolly.

“Tremendously.”

Oh, sweet heavens.

Now my cheeks are heating. “So we’re going to have to?—”

“Touch. A lot,” he cuts in. A warmth fills his blue eyes, a warmth that wasn’t there before.

No wonder puck bunnies throw themselves at him.

He’s a giant teddy bear stuffed into the body of a six-foot-four, six-pack hockey god.

“Do you have any reservations about that?” he drawls slowly, his eyes trailing down the length of my body.

I shake my head, unable to find my voice as all I can think about are the ways in which he will have to touch me and the fine line of making those around me believe I enjoy it, which let’s be real, I will. But I also need to make Grayson feel as if I don’t.

Because right now, as his eyes rove my body, all I want to know is how it would feel if it were his hands doing the exploring.

My head is already scrambled.

Just think of the money that will pay for Mom’s treatment .

“Do you have any reservations?” I ask, surprised to hear my voice is calm despite the pounding in my ears.

“No.” He’s quick to respond.

“We should put rules around intimacy.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw before he licks his lips and clears his throat. “I agree. Do you have any lines that you don’t want crossed?”

None , I want to blurt but quickly bite my tongue.

Grayson leans back, crossing one foot over the other as he spreads his left arm along the back of the couch. The way his muscles bunch has my heart leaping into my throat.

Why does he have to be so sexy?

“We should only be physical when there are others around. Otherwise, the lines between you being my boss will be blurred. We have to try and keep in mind that I’m still your assistant.”

Something between us charges, as if an electric current has switched on.

“Assistant.” He nods slowly. “Right.”

My chest is rising and falling faster with every passing second. “How long are we doing this for?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we can’t pretend forever.”

An emotion flickers in his gaze, there and gone before I can grasp onto it to decipher how he’s feeling.

“The board makes their decision in three months, so I suppose then.”