Page 28

CHAPTER 28

DALLAS

I ’m all fucking smiles—for obvious reasons—as I step off the elevator and through the doors of HMC Management. The receptionist glances up at me, smiling coyly and fluttering her lashes like she does every time I show my face. I throw her a salute and my panty-melting grin, and she buzzes me through the secure door with a sweet little giggle. Cute.

As I follow the corridor that’s lined with glass offices, I can’t stop myself from rushing. I mean, come on. Can you blame me? It’s been almost four hours since I’ve seen my girl. Leaving her this morning as she waved me off from the door of her apartment, wrapped in a fluffy white robe, her cheeks flushed from the kiss I’d just stolen from her, adorable smile ghosting her lips, I didn’t realize until that very moment just how much I want that. I know this is absurd, but I want to wake up with her every morning. And when I leave her there in the doorway, whether I’m going to practice or to the airfield to catch a flight for a road trip, I want to know that when I get back, she’ll be right there waiting for me. I have lost my damn mind. But fuck it, I say. Life is too damn short not to jump in head first.

As I turn the corner and let myself into Emily’s office, my grin spreads wide at the sight of the pretty blonde who has claimed my heart, soul, and whatever the hell else she wants, studying her laptop, brow furrowed with determination as she taps the keyboard.

My gaze flits quickly to Andy’s door. It’s open. But he’s not in there. I’m sure he’s not far away, but I like to live dangerously.

“Hey, baby,” I say, crossing the space and stopping by Emily’s desk.

She gasps, clutching her chest and gawking up at me. “You scared the shit out of me.”

I chuckle, doing a quick scan of the room before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the corner of her gaping mouth. But as if I’ve slapped her, Emily rolls away on her chair so fast, I’m momentarily worried she’s about to roll right through the plate glass window.

Standing, she puts even more space between us, scurrying over to open the cupboard and start busying herself, and my brows knit together because… what the fuck?

“You okay?”

Emily’s gaze darts about, and she nervously tucks her hair behind her ear, looking down to the floor, to the window, to the ceiling, literally anywhere but at me.

Before I can storm across the room, cup her face, and demand she look at me and tell me what the hell is going on, Andy’s voice sounds over my shoulder, and I spin around as Emily goes back to the contents of the cupboard.

“You’re early,” Andy says, brow quirked as he looks me up and down. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“The Pack My Protein guys are setting up in the boardroom,” Andy explains, waving for me to follow him out of Emily’s office. And as I do, I cast a sidelong glance at my girl to find her watching me. And that’s when I see it. There in her big honey eyes as clear as day. Fear. Something happened. And my stomach rolls with concern. I need to speak to her .

The meeting with the ready-made meal company went well, at least for all I know. The guys seemed nice enough, and they offered me a big chunk of money to be the face of their upcoming social media campaign. But honestly, I wasn’t really paying attention. Not like I should have been. I wasn’t rude, but I definitely didn’t give them the full Dallas Shaw experience. I couldn’t. My brain was too busy racking itself with what could have possibly happened to upset Emily.

“You got plans for lunch?” Andy asks as he walks me out of the boardroom.

“I’ve gotta get to the air field.” I check my watch, realizing I’m running late and at serious risk of copping a fine. “We’re playing Miami tomorrow night.”

We stop by the door to Emily’s office as Andy tells me that he’ll get the contract filed with legal, and as he’s going on about emailing it through to the PR guys, I can’t help but peer over his shoulder, noticing Emily isn’t at her desk. Where is she?

I say goodbye to Andy and hurry out of the office, passing Franny’s office on my way. But she’s not in either. As I continue back through reception, I pull my phone from my pocket and start a new text as I impatiently press the call button for the elevator.

Me: Where are you?

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long for a response.

Goldie: Lunch.

Me: Where??

The elevator arrives and I step on with at least six other people. I keep my head down, not in the mood to indulge in any hockey fan talk with randoms right now.

Goldie: The salad bar across the street.

Pocketing my phone as soon as I exit the elevator, I snake my way through the throng of corporate suits crowding the lobby and zip up my jacket as I step outside on the busy sidewalk, running between a break in traffic across Madison.

As I walk into the pretentious salad bar that charges twenty bucks for a chopped salad, I spot Emily at a high table in the back, sitting there with Fran, and my shoulders sag with relief when I see the smile on her lips. Keeping my head down, I shoulder my way through the lunch time crowd, sidling up to their table.

“Oh, wow, fancy seeing you here,” Fran says with a wry smile.

“Yeah, I love a twenty-dollar salad,” I mutter.

“Hey, man. I’m only here for the brownie!” Fran shrugs, popping a piece of crumbled up brownie in her mouth.

“Number sixty-four!”

Emily hops off her stool and cranes her neck.

“That you?” I ask her.

She nods.

I take her ticket stub from her and weave my way through the sea of people waiting. Exchanging the ticket for a Styrofoam bowl, I thank the man and turn back to the girls.

“Can we talk?”

Emily looks up at me, glancing at Fran.

“You go, girl.” Fran smiles, holding her hands up in surrender. “I have to get back for a conference call with L.A.”

With an obvious sigh, Emily grabs her bag and shrugs on her coat, and I carry her overpriced salad as I lead the way back through the throng and out onto the busy sidewalk. Before she can say anything, I turn right and head up Madison, toward the garage where I parked. Emily keeps up with me, walking next to me but not too close. And I fucking hate that. What I wouldn’t give right now to grab her hand and entwine my fingers through hers, or snake my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, maybe even press a kiss to the top of her head.

When we reach the parking garage, I don’t bother with the valet and instead, press the call button for the elevator. Emily doesn’t say anything, just stands next to me, waiting. And when the rickety elevator door shudders open, she casts me a dubious glance, reluctant as she steps in. The second the door closes and we start climbing, I press the emergency stop and I’m on her, flanking her until she’s pressed up against the side of the metal box with nowhere to go, forced to look up at me with those beautiful, big, caramel eyes.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, resting a hand against the wall above her head, leaning in so close I can see her pulse quicken.

Her throat bobs with a hard swallow. “What are you t-talking about?”

“Don’t play games with me, Goldie.” I bite back my smirk, studying her face. “You couldn’t even look at me back there.”

“You kissed me!” she hisses. “What if Andy walked in twenty seconds earlier?”

I pull back enough to gauge her, looking between her eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” I ask lowly. “I can tell something’s wrong.”

She averts her gaze, looking down, and I tuck my finger under her chin, forcing her eyes back up and looking directly in them.

“I had to sit in with Andy and our Head of HR this morning as a witness while they fired a woman on the spot because she went home with an athlete after the charity event on Saturday.”

Oh shit. No wonder she couldn’t even look at me. I take a step back, only because I know that right now, she needs the space. Dragging a hand over my face, I consider my words before I say something stupid, because I have no doubt that would have been hard, but even more so for Emily considering what we spent the entire weekend doing .

“I’m sorry you had to do that, baby.”

She sighs heavily. “It was horrible. She cried . It was her first real job since college. She moved all the way from Utah to New York with no one, no money, nothing. Because working for Andy had been her dream job.”

“Baby—”

She continues, “And all I could do was sit there and watch as Carlo, the misogynistic pig from HR who should know better, by the way, started low-key slut-shaming her, telling her she really should be more careful with how she holds herself at company events, and all the while I’m this big, fat hypocrite.” She throws her hands in the air, shoving her fingers through her hair.

I place my hand on her cheek, dragging my thumb over the rosy apple. “Breathe, Emily.”

She looks like she wants to say something, but she stops herself and heeds my advice, taking a big breath in through her nose, meeting my eyes with a slow exhale. And then her shoulders fall and I can see that’s not all.

“When I walked into my office,” she starts, “and I saw Carlo and Andy standing there, waiting for me—” Her eyes flit between mine. “I thought it was me who was about to be fired.”

I nod slowly, understanding exactly what she’s saying, and what she’s not saying.

“Breathe,” I remind her again, ducking my head to press my forehead against hers for a moment, still cupping her cheek with one hand, still holding her goddamn salad with the other.

“I was so happy this morning,” she whispers. “I was… feeling things I haven’t felt in a long time. Things I’ve never felt. As I walked to work this morning, it really felt as if today was a new start.” She shakes her head. “And then that happened.”

“We just need to take it slow,” I remind her, hopeful, yet terrified she’s about to revert back to when she almost walked out on me yesterday in my apartment. “We’ll be careful. And when the time’s right, we can tell Andy. Together. ”

Finally, after a few long, silent seconds, Emily nods, but I’m not convinced she fully believes me.

“What is it?” I press, knowing there’s more.

“When I asked Andy why he doesn’t let his employees date his clients, he said…” The breath she releases trembles, and I can tell whatever it is he said has really affected her, and I love Andy like a fucking brother, but right now, I swear I could march right back to his office and punch him in his face. And I’ve never punched anyone… off the ice.

“What did he say?” I ask, my jaw clenching painfully tight.

“He said he can’t risk it because… when it ends, and it always does, it only ever ends badly .”

This time it’s me who swallows hard because I know exactly what she’s thinking. And goddamn, Andy. I swear to fucking God. I release a hard breath, resting my forehead against Emily’s once again, taking a moment to breathe her in.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Her gaze meets mine and she nods.

“Then that’s all that matters.” I implore her with my eyes, hoping like hell she believes me when I say, “You’re the girl for me, Emily Ruth Cole. There’s no one else. And one of these days, Andy’s going to eat his fucking words, I promise you that.”