Page 13

CHAPTER 13

OLLIE

T he rhythmic hum of the tires on the highway should be soothing, but my mind is far from calm. I grip the steering wheel tight, replaying the kiss over and over in my head. The way Anna’s lips felt against mine, soft but firm, the way she grabbed my jacket like she didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t for show—at least, it didn’t feel like it. Not to me.

Beside me, Dixon scrolls through his phone, his occasional muttered “huh” or “no way” fills the silence.

“You’re quiet,” he finally says, glancing over at me.

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the road. “Tired.”

“Bull.” He sets his phone down and shifts in his seat to face me. “You’ve been in another world since we left the arena. What’s going on with you and Anna?”

My stomach tightens. “What do you mean?”

He snorts. “I mean, you’re acting like it’s some big secret, but it’s not. You’re all over socials, dude. The team’s PR is eating it up. Fans are making signs. You’ve got a freaking hashtag—OllieAnna—for Pete’s sake. But then you’re quiet about it, like you’re trying to keep it under wraps. So, what gives?”

I exhale through my nose, debating how much to tell him. Dixon’s my roommate, one of my closest friends on the team, and obviously he knows me well enough to see through the act.

“It’s a long story,” I say.

“Try me.” Dixon crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got nothing but time, and I can’t stand your brooding silence.”

A grin tugs at my lips despite myself. “Brooding silence?”

“You’re brooding,” he says firmly. “It’s a little scary. Now, talk.”

I blow out a breath and give him a quick glance. “Fine. But you can’t say anything to anyone, all right?”

He mimes zipping his lips and locking them. “Scout’s honor.”

So, I tell him everything. About the fake-dating arrangement. About Jimmy’s threat after my lack of social media presence made me a “liability” for the team’s brand. About how Anna stepped in with this crazy idea to fix both our problems, and how I said yes because while I’ll do anything to stay on this team, I really can’t let Anna and Danny down.

As I talk, Dixon’s expression goes from curious to confused to downright furious.

“Wait,” he interrupts when I finish. “Hold up. Jimmy wanted to get rid of you because you’re not on TikTok or posting selfies every five minutes?”

I nod, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

“That’s insane,” he says, throwing up his hands. “You’re one of the best players on the team! Who cares if you’re not an influencer?”

“It’s the way things are now,” I say with a shrug, though the words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “It’s not just about how you play; it’s about how marketable you are.”

“Marketable,” Dixon scoffs. “Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be a hockey player, not some brand ambassador.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to Jimmy.”

Dixon shakes his head, muttering something under his breath. “So, this thing with Anna—it’s all just to keep you on the team?”

At that, I hesitate. Because it’s not just that, is it? I didn’t have to kiss her in the parking lot, not like that. I didn’t have to mean it.

“Not…exactly,” I admit, my voice lower.

Dixon narrows his eyes at me, studying my face. “Whoa,” he finally says, leaning back in his seat like I just dropped a bombshell.

“Whoa what?”

“Just…whoa,” he says again, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

I glance at him, my chest tight. “Say it.”

“I’m not saying anything, man. But if this isn’t just for show…” He lets the words hang there, smirking slightly.

I don’t respond. Because honestly? I’m not even sure what this is anymore myself.

Dixon and I step through the door of our place, the sound of the lock clicking behind us echoing in the quiet. I toss my keys on the counter, pull my phone from my pocket, and am scrolling through missed messages when Anna’s name pops up at the top of the screen.

Dixon left his duffle bag sitting on the bus. I’m going to stop by in a bit to drop it off. Is that okay?

My heart does this stupid little jump it’s been doing way too much lately when it comes to her. I don’t even hesitate.

Yeah, of course. Anytime.

Dixon plops onto the couch and stretches his legs out, crossing his ankles. “Who’s texting you now?”

“Anna. You left your duffle bag on the bus, dummy. She’s gonna drop it off.” I’m already scrolling through the delivery app, navigating straight to her favorite Mexican place. If she’s coming over, I’m not about to have her show up and have nothing to offer her. It’s rude. I tap on the burrito she always orders and add some chips and salsa, then a few tacos for good measure.

“Why didn’t she text me?” Dixon muses out loud before he catches sight of the app on my screen and lets out a low whistle. “And you’re ordering food already? Man, you’ve got it bad… but I’ll take a fajita. Chicken with extra spice, no sour cream.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t bother denying his accusation, but I do go ahead and tap an order for him as well. “In case you need to know, she likes the El Grande Burrito from that place. Figured I’d get ahead of it.”

“Sure, sure. You’re just being thoughtful,” Dixon teases, leaning his head back against the couch with a knowing grin. “This isn’t about trying to impress her or anything. Totally casual. ‘I’m doing it to save my job, Dixon. Don’t tease me about it, Dixon.’”

“Shut up,” I mutter, confirming the order.

“Hey, I’m just saying, this fake-dating thing you’ve got going on feels realer by the day.” He chuckles as he stands and stretches. “I’m going to hit the shower. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oh wait, too late. You’re already doing EVERYTHING I wouldn’t do.”

I flip him off without looking up, and he disappears down the hall, whistling some annoying tune.

I’m still thinking about placing my lips across hers and how she felt in my arms when the doorbell rings. My pulse kicks up a notch, and I cross the room to open it. Do I want there to be more kissing? I do, but there are rules. Maybe I can convince Dixon to pretend he’s a reporter so I can trick Anna into kissing me again.

I shake all of these stupid ideas out of my head as I open the door. Sure enough, there’s Anna standing there, her hair loose around her shoulders and a soft smile playing on those tempting lips of hers.

“Hey,” I say, stepping aside so she can come in.

“Hi,” she says, her gaze flicking over me briefly before landing on the living room. She holds up a battered duffle with the Renegades logo on the side. “Dixon’s bag.”

I take it from her and toss it beside the front hallway table. “He’s in the back, so I’ll give it to him when he comes out.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all. I’m glad you’re here.” I gesture to her to come inside. “I ordered some food and got something for you, too. Hope you’re hungry.”

“Mexican?” she asks as I nod. Her smile widens as she steps inside. “From the good place?”

“Casa Vega.” I nod, feeling oddly self-conscious under her warm gaze. “Your favorite.”

“Then I’m definitely staying.” She walks past me into the living room, and the faint scent of her shampoo—something light and floral—lingers in the air. A quick sniff check tells me it’s not her usual lavender. I close the door behind her, trying to push away the nerves tightening in my chest.

Anna perches on the edge of the couch, her hands resting on her knees. “Everything happened so fast at the arena, I forgot to ask if your dad ended up going to a game?”

I hesitate, leaning against the armrest of the chair across from her. For a moment, I think about brushing it off, giving her some vague answer. But there’s something about Anna that makes me want to lay it all out there, even the parts I hate admitting.

“Yeah,” I say finally, rubbing the back of my neck. “He did, and it didn’t go well.”

Her expression softens, and she nods for me to continue.

“You know we don’t exactly have the best relationship,” I begin, my voice low.

“I know that his gambling caused you guys a bevy of problems.”

“I don’t think I ever really explained how bad it is.” I let out a humorless laugh. “He’s not just a gambler. He’s an addict, through and through. It’s not just a problem for him—it’s his whole life. And growing up? It was my life, too. I can’t count how many times I’d wake up and find out he’d lost everything we had. Or how often I had to sit there and watch my mom try to scrape together enough to keep the lights on because he’d blown the paycheck at a poker table.”

Anna’s eyes widen slightly, her hands clenching in her lap. “Ollie, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly advertise it.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “It’s not something I’m proud of. I hate that it’s part of my story. And now? Now he’s just…” I pause, searching for the right words. “He likes to dig the knife in, you know? He knows how to push my buttons. He likes to use me and use his power to control me in this really messed-up way.”

Anna is silent for a moment, her gaze steady on mine. “But you still help him,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” I admit, my voice thick. “Because he’s my dad. I can’t just walk away, no matter how much I want to sometimes. I love him, but I…I don’t like him. And that’s a hard thing to carry around.”

Her face softens, and she reaches across the space between us, her hand brushing mine. “Ollie, you’re not responsible for his mistakes. You’ve done so much—more than most people would. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you the man that you are. And I think that’s pretty incredible.”

Her words hit me harder than I would expect, and I feel a lump form in my throat. I glance down at our hands, her fingers lightly curled around mine, and let out a slow breath.

“Thanks,” I murmur. “That means a lot coming from you.”

She squeezes my hand gently. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

“Haven’t I said those exact words to you in the recent past?”

“You have, but I’m here for you, too. It’s quid pro quo, right?”

This woman makes me truly happy in the deepest and darkest parts of me, probably because she’s the only one I’ll ever let see into those corners. I’d hand her a flashlight and a map to my soul if it meant she could shine her light in the darkness and reveal more. All for her.

For a second, neither of us speaks, the room filled with the sounds of moody jazz and the soft creak of the couch beneath her. I tilt my head, studying her.

“So,” I begin, dragging a hand through my hair. “I’m curious what happens when there’s no more fake dates, no more hashtag OllieAnna. What’s next for you?”

Her lips part, but no immediate answer comes. She looks down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I’m not sure,” she finally admits. “I mean, I’d love a chance to work with Sutton, but I don’t know. I think I want more.”

“More, huh?” I prompt, intrigued. “What kind of ‘more’ are we talking about?”

She looks up at me, her eyes alight with something between hope and nerves. “I’ve been thinking about Sutton’s offer to join her marketing team when she expands. Starting at the ground floor sounds like a challenge, but maybe it’s what I need. Something I can build, you know?”

I lean back, crossing my arms with a teasing smile. “So, let me get this straight—you’re ready to move up in the world. Be the one calling the shots, huh?”

She laughs, her face brightening. “Not quite, but maybe one day. I’ve realized I want to be in a position where I’m the one with the assistant.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, and it feels good—light, easy. “Okay, boss lady. I can see it. You’d rock it.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks flush, and she grins. “It’s scary, though. I mean, I know I want to do something where I help people. I seem to like that aspect of my work, but I’ve been an assistant for so long, it feels like a safety net. Stepping out of that...it’s a leap.”

“Leaps can be good,” I say. “Sometimes you’ve got to take a risk to get what you really want.”

Her gaze softens, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s going to ask me what I really want. Because I know I’m looking right at it.

Instead, she shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she closes her eyes. The sound of a melancholy saxophone fills the air around us and she smiles, pointing in the air at nothing in particular.

“What is this we’re listening to today?”

“John Coltrane,” I say, watching as she closes her eyes, the ends of her lips turning up at the corners as her body begins swaying back and forth, slowly, on the couch beside me. As someone begins singing, her eyes fly open and her hand grabs onto my thigh.

“Who’s that?”

“Johnny Hartman,” I say with a chuckle. “This song is called ‘My One and Only Love.’”

“Oh,” she says, as her hand flies to her heart. She closes her eyes again and, smiling, waves her hands in the air like the conductor of an orchestra as she listens.

“Wow,” she whispers when it ends, peeling her eyes open and letting them come to a rest on me.

“It’s the best way to wind down,” I say, letting the record play on.

We sit quietly for a minute or two, before she sighs and busies herself with rearranging the pile of hair she’s gathered on top of her head as she squints at me.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You never said if you had any big leaps on the horizon?”

“Big leaps, like being marketable or big leaps that count?” I tease.

“Ha!” She laughs, slugging me in my arm. “Leaps that count for Ollie. Leaps to another team or to the NHL, leaps into your version of ‘what’s next.’”

Maybe now’s the time. The time I can tell her my leap would be with her. That when I think of making any kind of plans for the future, right now I want her to be in them.

Before she can press me for more, the doorbell rings, cutting through the moment.

“That’s the food,” I say, pushing to my feet.

She smirks. “Saved by the burrito.”

Her laughter follows me to the door, and as I grab the bags from the delivery guy, I find myself smiling. Maybe this isn’t just a leap for her. Maybe it’s one for me, too.

I set Dixon’s food on the table near the edge, knowing he’ll grab it whenever he resurfaces, then bring the rest to the couch where Anna sits and I join her. The aroma of spices and grilled meat fills the room, making my stomach growl.

Anna picks up her container, opens it, and digs into her burrito. She’s careful not to spill its contents, and I do the same, taking a huge bite. The flavors hit just right—savory, spicy, a little smoky. She sighs happily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and I can’t help but smile at the sound.

“This,” she says, gesturing with her food, “was an excellent choice. Thank you for knowing me so well.”

I chuckle. “It’s not exactly rocket science. Mexican food is your love language.”

She laughs, and I swear it’s one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard.

A minute later, I notice a streak of sauce on her cheek. “Hold still,” I say, leaning in to wipe it off with my thumb.

Her eyes meet mine as I pull my hand away, and for a second, the air between us feels charged. I can’t help but glance at her lips—soft, inviting, so close.

My heart thuds in my chest as the moment stretches, a heat rising in my chest. I want to kiss her. But I hold back, torn between what I want and what I think is right.

I pull back slightly, but then her hand grazes mine as she reaches for a napkin. The simple touch sends a sensation up my arm, like a spark igniting something deep inside me. My pulse jumps, and the want crashes back in, stronger than before.

I clench my jaw, trying to rein it in. I’m not going to jump her like some impulsive idiot. I want this to mean something. Haven’t we already built enough? We’ve been friends forever—surely that counts for something.

But it doesn’t matter what I think; it matters what she thinks. Her father. Her job. Her life. I need her to know I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to complicate all of that just because I can’t keep my head straight around her.

Then she moves, leaning slightly toward me, her gaze flicking to my mouth, and my breath catches. The silence around us is suddenly loud, a pounding begins in my ears. It could be my heart. She’s about to?—

“Smells good in here!” Dixon’s voice booms from behind us, and Anna jerks back, her cheeks flushing as she catches her container which almost goes flying across the room.

I blow out a breath, scrubbing a hand over my face as I turn to glare at my roommate. Dixon strolls into the room, hair still damp from his shower, completely oblivious.

“Don’t mind me,” he says, plucking his food off the table with a grin. “Carry on.”

Anna laughs nervously, and I shake my head, shooting him a look that says thanks for nothing . He winks at me, then heads toward his room with his food.

When I glance back at Anna, she’s avoiding my eyes, focusing way too hard on her burrito. I pick up my taco, biting back a laugh. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

I take another bite of my taco, trying to act casual, but the tension from earlier still lingers. I can’t help but glance at Anna, her lips now stained with sauce from the burrito, and I fight the urge to wipe it off again. Instead, I just look at her and smile.

“You know, I’m kind of trying to impress you,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. It sounds casual enough, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in my voice that makes me cringe internally.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

I chuckle, shrugging it off. “Yeah, well, you’re a pretty tough critic, so I’m doing my best here.”

She smiles, her gaze softening in a way that makes my stomach flutter. “Well, I’m impressed,” she says, her tone teasing. “I’m very impressed.”

I laugh, leaning back a little in my seat. “Well, I’ll take that as a win.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence before she glances down at her phone, her fingers tapping lightly against the screen.

“I’m taking Ben’s kids to mini-golf tomorrow afternoon,” she says, not looking up. “Wanna come?”

I blink, caught off guard by the offer. It’s casual, but it feels like a lot more than just an invitation to hang out.

“I can’t,” I answer, biting my lip as I try to think of something that doesn’t sound like an excuse…I rarely have plans that don’t include hockey, but tomorrow I do. “I’ve got plans, actually.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Plans?” she asks, her voice lifting with curiosity.

I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, I volunteer every few weeks with Gambler’s Anonymous.”

Anna nods but doesn’t press me for more info. Probably because she gets me.

“Maybe we can do something another night,” I say, letting my voice soften a little. “Just the two of us, no kids...unless you want them around.”

“Just us?”

“I mean, I’d like for it to be only the two of us.”

I can tell she feels the same way about my suggestion by the way her eyes brighten and the flush that creeps across her cheeks. “Okay. Just us.”

I reach for my drink, lifting it up in a half-toast. “To the gift that keeps on giving,” I say with a grin.

She tilts her head, looking at me with a smirk. “Fake-dating?”

“Yep. Fake-dating. It’s better than it sounds.”

She clinks her glass against mine, and we both sip, but as I watch her, a sinking feeling hits me. I’m not laughing anymore. It’s not just fake-dating anymore, if it ever was. I’m fully in love with her, and I know it.

I can only hope she feels the same way.