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RILEY

T hank goodness I put my sunglasses on as soon as I got in my car. I almost swallowed my tongue when Sarah took off her sweatshirt. I’m intimately familiar with what’s under all of the clothes. But the innocent reminder was enough to make me want another go with her. Here. In the parking lot in broad daylight.

And despite feeling more at ease with her than anyone I’ve ever spent time around, that’s a no-go as we both know the consequences if we do cross the line. But the more time we spend together, the more I want to ignore the main reason we’re in each other's lives. Which is my career and what I need to focus on.

I adjust myself and start my car, pulling out of the spot towards the exit. I watch in amazement as Sarah drops the top on her BMW and pulls her hair back. Her sunglasses slide on her heart shaped face and I can see her gaze fixated in my direction, silently waiting for me to make a move. Pulling out of the lot, Sarah follows behind me and I think of what brands I want to work with so that I’m not coming to this work-lunch empty handed. To be honest, I never gave it much thought. Would it be food related? Hockey related? I just don’t know. I always assumed my publicist would put me with the first brand that reached out regardless if I aligned with it.

When we pull into the restaurant's parking lot I get out and round the front of my car as I wait for Sarah to gather her things. I don’t expect the place to be too crowded. But as it’s still summer break, and lunchtime for those in office jobs, you never can tell. I move around Sarah and open the door for her and I follow in closely behind her, very reminiscent of that night at the jazz bar.

“Hi, welcome to Evan and Cody’s. Just two?” The hostess greets and asks us.

“Yes, please,” Sarah responds.

The hostess grabs a couple of menus and rolls of silverware before she motions us to follow her. As we walk towards our table, I see we’ve garnered the attention of a few of the patrons. I’m not overly known as I’m still in my rookie contract. But even die-hard fans would recognize rookies.

She sets our things down then backs away from the table. “Your server will be right with you.” She tells us before heading back up to the front.

We slide in on either side of the booth and get settled in. Sarah grabs for a menu and opens it up without a word.

“I hope you’re not vegetarian. If you are, I think they have a few safe options,” I tell her as I grab my own menu.

“I grew up in the south eating pork rinds. I think I’ll be good.”

“What are those?” I crinkle my nose because those just sound odd.

“Deep-fried pork skin.” Sarah laughs when my face turns to pure mortification. “They’re an acquired taste, that’s for sure. ”

Our server comes over, interrupting us to take our drink orders. I look at Sarah over the top of my menu. Her furrowed brow as she thinks of what to order is a common look when it’s aimed at me, but one I like seeing on her nonetheless. From what I’ve gathered, she’s always on and so sure of what she wants. Side effect of her job, I’m assuming. So to see the quirk, whether she deems it one or not, is refreshing.

“So what other weird foods did you grow up on?” I ask her and look back down at my menu as if I wasn’t staring wistfully at her. A balled-up straw wrapper hits me on the forehead and I jump a little at the trash hitting me. “Hey.”

“I’ll have you know, boiled peanuts are not weird foods.” Sarah says as she points a finger at me, but with a smile on her face.

“I’ll take your word for it,” I say as I continue looking through the menu.

She sets her menu off to the side, a clear indication that she knows what she wants and turns her gaze on me. “So should we get to the nitty gritty of the brands you want to work with?”

I decide on what I want to eat and then set my menu on top of hers. I cross my hands and place them on the table in front of me. “Cologne, naturally. Every man needs a brand they reach for. I personally am hoping to work with Tom Ford one day. Maybe a cat food brand because I am a Cat Daddy after all.”

“You having cats was not on my bingo card.” Sarah says as she types the information in on her phone.

“I like all things pussy,” I tell her.

“You were doing so well.” Sarah claims through a laugh as she drops her head onto the tabletop.

I like making her laugh. If it makes our working relationship run smoothly, then I’ll make her laugh as much as humanly possible.

Our server comes over to take our orders and once again, we’re alone. Only not really. Sarah keeps looking over my shoulder and I can only assume that we’ve gathered more attention. My assumption is confirmed when I peek behind me and see phones all pointed towards us.

“That’s not going to bother you, is it?” I ask and now I’m kicking myself in not recommending we just eat at my place. Although, I understood her refusal.

“I’m used to it. Happens when you’re best friends with a successful fashion designer who’s also dating the former Cincinnati quarterback and you decide to all have dinner on a Friday night after a playoff win.”

“Yeah, how did that happen?”

“I’ve known Mason since high school. Then Kamryn and I were roommates and sorority sisters through college,” she explains to me and then realizes something. “This is very date-like talk.”

“Hey.” I hold my hands up. “I’m just trying to get to know my publicist better.”

“Mm-hmm,” Sarah responds.

Our server comes back out with our food and to refill our waters. We talk about her job and what I like about hockey. I don’t tell her how I got into hockey as that’s probably too deep for lunch. By the time we’re done eating, apart from my cologne and cat food brands, we’ve gotten no actual work done.

“This work lunch was a bust.” I say as I sign off on the receipt. I refused to let her pay. Momma always said that if I offer to take someone to get food that I need to pay.

Sarah looks at her phone and huffs. “I guess you’re right. ”

We come to a mutual agreement to handle everything by email. I have a pre-season skate coming up and she has baseball games to attend. It will also be easier for us as my thoughts continue to stray to NSFW activities. I slide out of my side of the booth and hold my hand out to her when I move to her side to help her out. As we walk out of the restaurant, hushed whispers and the sound of cameras going off reach my ears. When we finally reach outside, we both let out a sigh of relief.

“Well that was some exit,” I say.

Sarah snorts as she gets her keys out of her purse. “So our next event is your first regular-season game.”

“Yep. I’ll make sure to set you up with some team gear.” I say, leaning up against her car.

Sarah drops her bag in the passenger seat and faces me, mimicking the same position as the one I’m in. The amount of comfort she shows towards me is one of understanding. Our eyes lock and every moment since we met is reflected in her eyes as I’m sure it’s the same when she’s looking at me.

She looks like she wants to say something. Instead, with a deep breath, Sarah pushes off her car and grabs the handle. “Well, today was good. Seeing you in your element on the ice, helps me to understand you a little better. I’ll see you later, Riley.”

I watch her get into her car and make my way around to my door. When I’m about to open it, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling my phone out, I see Logan calling me.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” I ask.

“What’s up? How come you didn’t tell us you were dating the redhead from the charity event?”

I rear back. “What are you talking about? I’m not dating anybody.”

“That’s not what sports channels and gossip blogs are saying,” Logan says. “Check your phone. I’ll talk to you later.”

Slowly pulling my phone away, I see my messages icon with a double-digit number. Tapping on it, I click on Logan’s name and the headline makes my jaw go slack.

‘Bad Boy Hockey Right-Winger Dating Mysterious Redhead’

I tap on the article and it doesn’t report on anything reputable. But there is a grainy picture of us from when we went to the jazz bar followed by one from today. Today's picture caught Sarah’s head thrown back in laughter and me staring at her like a lovesick fool. I’m about to rush back to Sarah’s car, if she hasn’t already left, but stop when I see her already resting on the side of my SUV with her own phone in her hand.

“I take it you just saw the article?” She asks and waves her phone in the air.

“Yeah. Here you are helping me with my reputation yet you’re getting dragged into it.”

“This does seem like something you’d talk to your publicist about,” Sarah jokes.

“How are you joking about this? Wouldn’t this blow back on you?”

“It’s a coping mechanism and probably. I just need to tell my boss it’s not what he thinks it is if he sees this before I have the chance to explain.” She says and leans back on my car.

I look at her unabashedly while she does her thinking to hopefully get us out of this new mess fans have created. I’m about to offer a solution when she beats me to it.

“If your being seen with me makes you be seen in a positive light, why don’t we run with it?”

“Huh? I thought you were all about not fanning the flames? Now you want to fan them? I’m confused,” and I really am.

“You’re already being seen better by the fans, your team, and even sponsors just from the handful of events I’ve had you do. But if news gets out that you’re also in a committed relationship, then you’ll also appeal to younger families and the sponsors who’ve been married for decades.”

When she says it that way, it makes sense. “So we date?”

“Fake date,” she tells me.

Why does the idea of fake dating make me happy but also sad? “Fake date, huh?”

“Just for the season. And then we part ways in April. Both me as your publicist and as your fake girlfriend.”

The thought of not having Sarah in my life next spring makes me nauseous. But the thought of being able to date her for six months has me holding my hand out to her.

“Deal,” I say.

“Deal,” she says as her hand meets mine and our eyes lock.

There is no denying that Sarah and I have chemistry. I feel it every time we lock eyes or brush up against each other and tension fills the air. But if I only have six months with her, then I’ll use that time to convince her that we can last longer than that.