Page 22 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

And why does he sound so detested by the thought of that? Maybe I’m reading into it and it’s just the thought of only having three months to convince the team to keep him on.

Three months.

Is that even enough time for my mom’s treatment? They said the treatment has several stages and durations for each. I suppose we will know if it’s working halfway through that time period though. If the treatment works, I will move heaven and earth to keep paying for the medication.

The insurance company is lucky I’m not at their door hounding them to pay for it .

Grayson’s deep, gravelly voice pulls my attention back to him. “Our first game of the season is next week and it’s a home game.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “Next week?” I squeak. “How am I meant to know everything a girlfriend should know by next week?”

He flashes me a grin, his cocky air returning. “Easy. I’ll take you out on a date. We can get to know each other and ask the questions we should already know, all the while being spotted out in public.”

My lips purse as I roll the proposal around in my mind. “That’s not a bad idea.”

He winks. “It’s a great idea.”

My head is spinning. By next week I’ll be known as Grayson Crawford’s girlfriend and we’ll have to convince everyone in the hockey world that I was the one to get his life back on track.

All so he can stay on his team.

No pressure.

Swallowing thickly, I broach the subject. “I understand the contracts and NDAs Lucy will send over, but I refuse to lie to my mom.”

She will need to know how and where I’m getting the money for her treatment, and if God forbid it doesn’t work, I don’t want to lie to my mom about my life before she… I can’t even think about it, the thought is so revolting.

This treatment will save her. It has to.

I’ve lied enough to her. I’m done lying.

Grayson nods, his eyes softening. “Understandable.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I don’t expect you to lie to your mom or your best friend…Layla, was it?”

I chalk it up to good memory and not to the idea he actually listens to every word I say. “Yes, Layla.”

“I don’t expect you to lie to them. I’m not lying to Kieran.”

“What about your family?”

Any lightness that was in his gaze winks out and dies. It’s as if I’ve thrown a bucket of water over his flame. His posture grows stiff, his grip on the couch pillow turns his knuckles white, and his face slackens with a heavy weariness that makes me want to give him a hug.

“I’ll deal with them,” he answers gruffly.

I’ve stuck my foot on a landmine, and I don’t know how to remove it safely.

“So, this date,” I go on, changing the topic. “When and where exactly is it?”

The tension still lingers around his body but my question has rekindled a spark. A small spark. But a spark nonetheless.

“Leave the details to me,” he drawls.

“ Y ou’re going on a date tonight ?” Layla squeaks over the phone. “That man moves fast.”

“That man is trying to get acquainted with me so we can make the hockey world believe we’ve fallen for one another. There is no ulterior motive.”

“If you say so,” she sings.

Shaking my head at her antics, I move around the room trying to make myself look presentable enough to be in Grayson’s league.

I’m not blind and I’m not vain either—I know I have some appealing physical features—but Grayson is on another level entirely, and the last thing I want are photographs of us splashed across social media followed by comments from randoms on the internet saying that I’m not good enough.

Granted, those comments will happen regardless.

Layla warned me that no matter what I do, I’ll receive some sort of backlash from fans and women who want Grayson for themselves.

How she knows this, I have not one inkling, but I agree with her.

You can never please everyone but if I don’t feel my best tonight, I don’t doubt what others will say about me later.

“Have you told your mom yet?”

Grimacing, I suck in a sharp breath. “No, I’m dreading it honestly. But I plan to tell her tomorrow morning over breakfast. After all, I need to tell her before her oncologist does.”

I called him the second I left Grayson’s house and made him administer the medication to my mom. I was quickly informed of the lengthy treatment and different stages, most needing to be administered in the hospital.

“Where does she think you’re going tonight?” Layla asks, pulling my thoughts away from the lengthy phone call with Dr. Stewart.

“Well…”

Layla’s startled gasp fills my childhood bedroom, which is still littered with moving boxes.

“Bella Stratford, are you sneaking out of your house at the ripe age of twenty-six?”

Now I’m cringing—at myself. “Yes?”

A cackle of laughter comes over the line. Scooping my phone up, I take her off speaker, although with the sleeping medication my mom is on, she’s knocked out.

“Stop laughing at me!”

“Are you going to leave out the window?” She snorts. “My god, can I drive by and watch this unfold?”

“No, you cannot!”

I can’t help but laugh right alongside her. Her laughter is infectious.

Sliding my feet into my black knee-high boots, I step in front of my full-length mirror, twisting this way and that as I inspect the little white dress I’m wearing. It hugs my curves but is still breathable, made with a thick knit fabric that is as soft as pajamas.

I contemplated wearing red, but I thought it would be giving into him too easily.

I had to pair the dress with my thickest coat, considering the dropping temperature. I have no doubt snow will be falling in spades soon enough, probably by this weekend. We had a light trickle two weeks ago but the full force of Colorado winters is about to hit.

I just hope wherever he’s taking me has heaters.

Checking the time, I swear under my breath. “Layla, I’ll call you tomorrow. He’ll be here any second.”

She whistles over the phone. “Just remember that I won’t judge you if you want to kiss him…or sleep with him.”

“I’m going now. Bye!”

“I can’t wait to hear about it all in the morning,” she yells over the phone, the demand evident. I’m not going to be able to avoid her probing.

Hanging up with a snort, I take a deep breath, check my makeup in the mirror one last time, and say a prayer that I won’t embarrass myself tonight as I tip-toe through my mom’s house and open the front door.

Only to come to a stop.

I never knew that a man could look so ruggedly handsome, could practically drip with sex appeal, could be tall and built with muscles upon muscles that borderline glimmer when the light shines on his sun-kissed skin. Never knew he could have a face crafted by gods and yet be such a sweetheart.

That is until I step out my front door and see Grayson Crawford, standing on my porch holding a bouquet of lilies, with a slight tint of crimson staining his cheeks.

LAYLA

I mean it, B!

send me updates as soon as you can

EEEKKK

I’m so excited for you

and please for the love of god, if the opportunity presents itself, climb that man like a tree!!!