Page 19

CHAPTER 19

Immune to the Charms of Hockey Players

LUCY

Friday, October 18

“ D o we need to meet again?” Lachlan says, starting to unbutton his collared shirt.

“I think we got what I need. Thanks.”

“Bye for now, Lucy.” Lachlan, shirt half open and with an armful of clothes draped over his forearm, bows and grins charmingly before heading out of the conference room where I’ve been camped out for photo sessions.

The Australian is a huge flirt, but also polite and gentlemanly whenever I’m around him. And anyway, I’m immune to the charms of hockey players.

The photographer packs up, but leaves the green screen set up because it belongs to the Blizzard. I thank him, and he disappears into the hallway. We’re doing a supplemental photo shoot with all the players. There was a media day last month, but Lina and I agreed we could make use of additional photos of the players to pitch different sponsorships. So this photo shoot is about adding to the catalogue of great photos we already have of all the players .

Kellen’s the only one who didn’t show.

I sit and look at our text messages from earlier.

Kellen

I might be late to the photo session—at an appointment with Ava that could run over

Me

No problem, good luck

I didn’t bother him when his appointment time came and went. Then, an hour ago, I sent one more text, which has gone unanswered.

Me

Hey, hope all is okay. Are you going to be able to come by for the photo session?

I sink into one of the conference table chairs and close my eyes. I shouldn’t have mentioned the dumb photo shoot. It’s so not important. My phone buzzes with a text and I jump.

It’s from Lina.

Lina

How’d it go today?

Me

Good. All done

Lina

Great! Sorry I couldn’t be there

I’m so glad Lina and I have a positive relationship. We have weekly one on ones, and we’ve gone for coffee a few times. She’s invested in helping me get the Winchester FC job in England. She tells me all the time how great I’m doing here, which is refreshing after not getting much feedback from my boss at DC FC or my boss’s boss, who happened to be my father .

At the Blizzard, it’s delightful to know my chain of command doesn’t include Richard.

The door to the conference room swings open and I flinch, almost dropping my phone. In walks Kellen Bassey, a wardrobe bag hooked over his shoulder.

“Kellen.” I sit up straight in the chair.

“I’m so sorry about missing my appointment. And not responding to your text.” He looks around the empty room and shuts his eyes. “Shit. The photographer’s gone.”

“Yeah, they packed up a bit ago.” I stand and the office chair rolls back against the conference room table.

Kellen’s squinting his eyes shut. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. The vibes I’m getting from this man right now are so different than the usual casual, warm ones.

“Hey, you okay?”

Kellen hadn’t specified what the appointment was for with Ava. Given his current mood, I’m terrified it wasn’t a good one.

Kellen opens his eyes. “Yeah.” He’s a step through the doorway, one hand clenched at his side, the other still gripping the wardrobe bag. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and open flannel button down that projects perfect Colorado casual.

Something is definitely wrong.

The stupidest idea crashes into my mind but I run with it, like Bear with one of Atticus’s shoes.

“You know what? I can take some pictures on my phone. Or I can at least include them as placeholders until we can reschedule the session.”

What in the actual hell am I talking about?

“Yeah?” Kellen raises an eyebrow.

“I took some photography classes in college.” I did not. “And I took pictures of players sometimes for my job at DC FC.” Lies.

Kellen’s mouth quirks on one side. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

I press my lips together. I’m such an idiot .

“Great! We can start with what you’re wearing, then change to your suit, then the jersey. Okay?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve been watching the photographer do this all afternoon, so I know what poses he’s looking for.” My voice is overly cheerful, and Kellen seems temporarily distracted from whatever his problems are.

What would be helpful right now is the photographer’s lights, professional camera, and, you know, overall training and job skills.

Like a lunatic, I gesture to the stool in front of the green background. Kellen lays his wardrobe bag over the back of a chair and takes a seat in front of the screen.

“How do you want me?” He’s got a hint of a smirk on his face, like he knows I’m completely full of shit. It’s much better than the anxious expression he had when he first walked in.

How do I want him? So many ways.

What am I doing? I have no idea.

Will I text the photographer and say hey do you think these cell phone photos are good enough for a professional portfolio ?

Obviously not.

So what, exactly, is my plan here?

There’s a fluttering in my chest. I want to do anything I can to make Kellen feel better. Get him to smile. To laugh. And maybe my plan is to spend time with this man, which is something I happen to enjoy. Too much.

Maybe it’s because when he looks at me, I sense something between us.

Something decidedly not fake.

I swallow and goosebumps tingle on my arms.

I’m probably imagining it. Or in the very least, it’s just one-sided. He can’t feel the same for me. And even if he told me he did, how could I believe him? I’m clearly a terrible judge of character. I thought Ron loved me. I thought he wanted to be with me forever. Instead, he’d been looking elsewhere all along .

But right now, I want to live in the moment and enjoy spending time with Kellen. Is that such a bad idea?

“Be natural. I’ll snap a few.” My voice is shaky, and I chastise myself for being such a sucker for this man.

Kellen leans forward, elbows on his knees, and stares at me as I lift my phone. Good lord. I don’t think it’d be an exaggeration to say he’s freaking gorgeous. I steady my hand and snap a few pictures. They come out crooked, so I try again.

I’m a thirty-three-year-old woman. Why do I feel so fluttery around this man?

I’m not interested in a relationship. Not even a casual one.

I’m not interested in the way I always feel like I’m not good enough.

But somehow, when I’m with Kellen, I don’t feel like that. Maybe that feeling is coming. Waiting in the rafters. Maybe he’s a really good actor, even better than Ron, but Kellen doesn’t treat me like I’m not good enough to be with him. Even if it’s fake. When we’re together, he treats me like we’re really dating. An actual couple.

“Can you smile?” I lower my phone. “Like you’re happy to be here?”

“I am happy to be here.” Kellen sits back, hands on his thighs, and smiles. It lights the room.

“That’s perfect,” I say, not meaning to say it out loud.

“Do any of those work?”

“Yeah. Yes. They’ll work.” I breathe in but don’t look at my phone.

“What’s next? Suit?” Kellen nods toward the chair with his wardrobe bag but keeps his gaze locked on me.

I swallow and nod, my eyes darting to the privacy screen that we set up for changing purposes. He grabs his clothes and disappears behind the screen. I try not to picture him taking off his flannel shirt, his t-shirt, his pants, and his shoes. Standing there in his boxers, chest on display. Does he have more than a six pack? How many can a man possibly pack? All of those.

“Ava’s appointment today was with her oncologist,” he says from behind the screen.

The air freezes in my lungs. “Everything okay?” I manage to get out.

“It’s why I was late.” He pauses and the silence is intense. “Her appointment was in Denver. A routine annual checkup. It went well. I thought I’d be back in time for the photo session, but they were running behind.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. I’m fake dating Kellen for petty revenge on my father, and he’s fake dating to keep his family in Fort Collins near his daughter’s trusted doctors.

We are not the same.

Kellen steps out from behind the screen, and my heart skips a few beats. He’s got his suit pants on, a shirt buttoned halfway up, and a loose tie hung around his neck. The top of chiseled pecs peeks out along with a scattering of chest hair. He lays the wardrobe bag back on the chair.

“I’m so glad she’s okay. I’ve been thinking of you guys all day. I kind of thought it might be an important doctor’s appointment for you to miss practice and her to miss school.” I breathe in through my noise. “That must all be so hard.”

“I trust the children’s hospital in Denver.” He closes his eyes for a beat. “Her doctors. The specialists. I know there are good doctors everywhere, but I want to stay here. We want to stay.”

We being his family unit: Ava and Bri.

“I can understand that.” But do I? How can I understand something I’ve never been a part of? That kind of strong family anchor. Sure, I love my brother to bits, and my mom and I are close. But the determination to keep everyone together, even amidst a split or divorce… that’s different.

“I know if I got traded and had to move, they could stay here. I’d visit as much as possible.” Kellen’s gaze drifts to the ground. “ But after what we lived through, I can’t do it. I couldn’t live with myself being away from Ava more than absolutely necessary.”

My gut twists for Kellen. It’s so intense. Having gone through something like that with your own child? It’s heart breaking.

Energy surges through me. I have to make sure this works for Kellen. That we really convince Paul he’s not a threat and deserves to stay on the Blizzard. I can’t bear it if Kellen were to be separated from his daughter. It’s so much more important than me proving something to my father.

I don’t understand what Kellen’s going through, but I know what it’s like to feel a little lost. With me, it’s about proving I’m good enough to do things on my own, to achieve things without the unwanted help of men in my life.

“All that to say, sorry I missed the real photographer.”

“You don’t think I’m a real photographer?” I attempt to smile, but he just stares at me, all serious. “Sorry, not a joking time. You don’t have to explain.”

“Thank you.” He nods.

“And you can trust that I’m not going to freak out about something so minor. As your fake girlfriend, of course.”

His throat ripples as he swallows.

Kellen runs his hand through his wavy hair, and instead of messing it up for the pictures, he manages to make himself look even hotter, if not slightly rumpled. He’s now a handful of steps away. My eyes fall to his tie and the three remaining buttons of his shirt. This man is throwing me completely off-kilter. Why? Because he’s hot?

Feeling moved by the emotion in Kellen’s voice, I close the gap between us and lift my hands.

I’m not falling for the hot guy.

But I also don’t have a heart of stone, and this man is struggling right now. I want to be there for him.

“May I?”

He nods, and I touch the button that hits mid-chest. My fingers brush his skin, and his chest rises with a breath. I keep my eyes focused but can feel the heat of his stare on my face.

One button done.

I swallow, and I’m sure he hears it. I move to the second button and fumble, my fingers touching his bare skin again, this time at the section of his chest where his collarbones meet. It’s a hard, smooth spot, warm to the touch, and my traitorous brain imagines kissing it.

Second button done.

At the top, I’m touching his neck. There’s no way I’m imagining that his breath is speeding up, or that mine is.

Third button done.

I look up at him, and our eyes meet. I reach for the tie and tug it until it’s the correct length on either side to knot. I cross one end over the other. Slowly, because my hands are shaking again.

“You’re a great dad. A good person. Not that you need me to tell you that.”

There’s a buzzing between us. In this room. The hum of electricity, building up to something, a generator shaking with energy, about to sputter and explode.

Kellen lifts a hand and pushes an escaped curl off my forehead, letting his fingertips skim my skin, but doesn’t say anything back.

I meet his eyes.

He looks at my lips, and my heart stutters.

I don’t even know what I’m doing with the tie anymore. Am I trying to braid it? Turn it into a friendship bracelet? His hand is gently pulling on the curl, then moves down my hair, not quite touching me, not letting go.

“I have to start over.” I unloop the tie and let the ends lay flat, smoothing the silky fabric down with my hands. My palms freeze against his chest in a position that’s much too intimate. I stare at my fingers splayed on his shirt, trying to steady myself, because I’m not sure I can meet him in the eye again without my knees giving out .

“Lucy.” Kellen reaches up and wraps his hands around the tops of my wrists, and the touch causes my insides to flutter. I stare at where our skin is together, marveling at how it feels to be connected to him in a circle like this. Heat spreads across my skin.

I look up.

I know he’s waiting for me to do so.

Our eyes meet, and we’re close. His gaze flits down to my lips and a rush of desire roars inside me.

No one is watching. There’s no purpose to us touching right now. To whatever is about to happen. It’s pure want.

Kellen’s got tiny lines branching out from the corners of his eyes. Thick eyelashes. Those dark blue irises. The shadow of facial hair along his jaw. His lips. His mouth.

I don’t think any more, I just do it.

I go up on my tippy-toes and tug down on his tie, gently bringing him toward me.

I kiss him.

He’s expecting it, and I suspect that if I hadn’t done it, he would have.

The kiss is soft and sweet, our mouths coming together gently, lips closed. I savor the touch. The burning feeling it ignites inside me.

I want Kellen.

We lean back for a beat and lock eyes, but I need much more than what I just got. I need more than I got at the coffee shop a few weeks ago. This time, we come together more intensely, and I release the tie and slide my wrists out of his palms, moving my hands up and around his neck, pushing my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. His hands drop and tiptoe around my waist, not pushing or pulling or grabbing. His mouth opens, his tongue swiping carefully between my lips. There’s a pulsing in my body. An ache deep inside.

I think I’ve been pushing the feeling away since I arrived. I’d admitted to myself he was hot and nice, but I truly didn’t think he was interested in me in a way other than as his fake girlfriend. I’m just Atticus’s older sister. The PR person at work. But as I move my hips forward to meet his, and he breathes in sharply through his nose, I know he wants me back.

We kiss and it’s sweet and slow and hot. I could do this all day. His hands drift down but stop abruptly before they go below the curve of my waist.

His hands stopping is like pressing the pause button, and facts flash through my mind. The conference room door is unlocked. The lights on the ceiling are too bright. Kellen’s a hockey player. I’m working for the team. My little brother is his teammate. The Winchester FC job. My painful breakup with Ron.

How nothing I do is good enough.

How I have to get out of this place, this country, as far from my old life as possible.

I pull back, and in the split second before his eyes fly open, I see him. Cheeks flushed. Hair mussed. Swollen lips. Kellen in the raw.

He blinks and the rawness fades.

“Sorry. I got carried away.” Kellen steps back. I ignore his apology.

“Let me reschedule the shoot. Cell phone pictures are probably not going to be good enough.” I take a step back as well.

The spot between his eyes furrows and a flash of something—maybe hurt—crosses his face.

“Right. Okay.”

What would happen if I told him I liked him? And not just as a fake boyfriend? That everything feels right when he touches me?

But I know he’s not interested, even if his body is. He’s had trust issues with women—and everyone—in his past, and he doesn’t want a relationship. He wants to be a good dad. Keep his spot on the team. Stay in Fort Collins with his family. He’s so cautious about who he lets in .

Me liking him would change nothing and only complicate his life.

I don’t want a relationship either.

“Let me know when it is.” He picks up the rest of his things from the table and heads to the conference room door, pulling it open. “Thanks, Lucy.”

“For what?” I ask, but he’s already gone.

Hasn’t he already let me in?