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CHAPTER

EIGHT

JADEN

H oly shit. I am thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t blurt out my first thought when she asked me what my favorite part of the movie was. Because that motorcycle scene was the first image that popped into my head. Put it off to sheer luck, divine intervention, a favor from the universe, or Cupid himself, but something in me told me to keep my mouth shut and pick another answer.

Given her reaction, that little voice was a game changer.

Holding Annalise in my arms feels more incredible than I dreamed it could. This entire experience is surreal. I’m standing between rows of twinkle-lit trees with my dream girl in my arms. I can’t believe this is happening. At the same time, I realize that all of my preconceived notions surrounding this woman were false. She’s not at all the person I imagined her to be.

I suppose I always saw her as my female equivalent from another world. Both of us good looking. Both of us at the top of our games in our prospective fields. Both of us confident as hell. Where I rule the world on the ice, she rules it in Hollywood. However, I’m going to have to change my reservation at the smug and cocky table to a party of one. Annalise is the opposite of arrogant, and that realization brings out something primal in me—this fierce desire to protect her.

The way I just described her acting abilities wasn’t a farce. While it wasn’t the first answer I thought of, it was true. I genuinely think she’s brilliant. I don’t know what she’s been through to make her believe otherwise. Something or someone in her industry has made her doubt herself. Perhaps a multitude of experiences has created this fragile confidence within her, making her feel less than. And I can’t accept that. Whether tonight leads to something more or not, she deserves more.

Her warm body against mine, the fruity smell of her hair, and the feeling of her chest rising and falling leave me completely intoxicated. I could stay like this all night. When she starts to move, I release my grasp, not wanting to make it awkward.

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“You have no reason to apologize. Everyone needs a hug every now and again, right?” I reach out and swipe a strand of hair behind her ear.

She grins, and her cheeks flush. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“What shampoo do you use?” I blurt out.

“What?” A surprised laugh escapes her full lips.

“Just wondering. Your hair smells amazing.”

“Um…thanks.” She shakes her head. “I’ll give you my shampoo hookup.”

“Good. I need it.” Bending, I grab both of our baskets and nod my head toward the table. “Come on. There’s something else you have to try.”

I spread the large flannel basket out and motion for Annalise to take a seat. Retrieving an insulated bag from the picnic basket, I unzip it and am met with one of my favorite scents.

“Now, the apples are good, but they’re not actually my favorite part about this place.” I pull out a cinnamon sugar apple donut and hand it to Annalise. “Try this.”

“It’s still warm,” she says.

“Yeah, they make them fresh every day, but I made sure to ask Mr. Appleton to make a batch right before we showed up. They’re best when they’re still warm.”

“The Appletons spared no expense for your date setup. I hope you made it worth their while.” She takes a bite of the donut.

“Please,” I scoff. “They are well taken care of. In fact, if you decide to come to a game while you’re in town, you’ll see them in their VIP seats, each wearing signed number two jerseys, navy-and-white Cranes hats, navy pants, waving a giant foam finger in the air, and swinging around noisemakers while half of their faces are painted white and the other half navy.”

“You’re serious?” She laughs.

“Completely. The thing you have to realize is that while not everyone loves hockey, those who do…really love it.”

Seated across from Annalise on the blanket, I pop half a donut into my mouth.

She holds her donut between her fingers and raises it. “You’re not lying about these. Oh my gosh… heavenly.”

“Told ya. They’re the best.”

She takes another bite of her donut and covers her mouth with her hand as she asks, “So do you guys have a thing about your jersey numbers?”

“What kind of thing?”

“Like a pride thing or something.”

“Of course. It’s our number. It represents us. It’s not only the fans who are obsessed with the game. We all play because we love it, and our jersey number is our badge of honor, showing the world that we’re good enough to play the best game there is at a professional level.”

“I get that.” She nods.

“Yeah, and when you come to a game, you’ll wear that number two jersey proudly.”

She puckers her lips and squints. “What if I wore another jersey?”

“I’d die.”

She laughs. “No, really.”

“No, really, it would break my heart, and I would most likely cease to exist.”

She captures me with her big beautiful blues and holds my stare. “Well, I would never want that.”

“Good.” I retrieve another donut and hold it out to her.

She looks at it and bites her bottom lip. “Uh…I don’t know if I should…Okay, fine.”

I hand it to her. “Don’t worry, these are special calorie-free donuts.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She smiles. “Fried in fat-free oil, no doubt.”

“Exactly.”

She takes another bite. “I’m not worried about the calories. I’m worried about the sugar. The apples, wine, and now donuts. It’s more sugar than I normally have, and I don’t want to feel sick tomorrow. It’s tough enough dealing with my coworker when I feel well.”

“The Simon guy?”

“The very one.”

“I’ve seen the pair of you together in photos on various news outlets. I thought you might be dating or at the very least good friends.” I start setting out the other food containers on the blanket between us. It’s a charcuterie spread with various meats, cheese, crackers, fruits, and vegetables.

“You really are a stalker.” She giggles. “And no… I can honestly say I think I hate the guy. But those pictures were all work-related, and the paparazzi were tipped off to our whereabouts. It creates buzz for the movie.”

“I get that. That’s kinda what Penny does for us. She makes sure we’re photographed doing something good and puts it up on all the socials. She thinks it’s important to maintain a positive image.”

“Penny is Ms. Dreven?” Annalise asks.

I nod.

“I like her, and I agree. A positive image is important in both of our industries. For better or worse, actors and athletes are looked up to as role models.”

“Sure, maybe. But I also can’t live my life based on the expectations of strangers.”

She scoffs, her expression turning almost sad. “Well, I’ve been doing that my whole life.”

The conversation pivots, taking on a lighter tone as we get to know one another over crackers and cheese. I tell her all about the guys on the team who are my family and make her promise to come to a game while she’s in town. She discusses her favorite things about growing up in Hollywood, on one set after the next.

There’s never a dull moment, and our chemistry seems effortless. Call me crazy, but I can picture a lifetime with this woman, a thought I’ve never had about anyone else.

She stretches an arm out to her side and runs it across the soft grass beyond the blanket. Something catches her eye, and she bends to get a closer look. “Oh my gosh.” She plucks at something in the grass. “It’s a four-leaf clover!” She holds the clover out to me. “I’ve never found one of these in my life.”

“It’s a sign,” I say.

“For?”

“For us. This date. I think it’s telling you to take a chance, and you’ll get lucky.”

“Lucky?” She puckers her lips and raises her brows, looking very accusatory.

I laugh. “Not that kind of lucky. Like lucky in life.”

“Hmm.” She takes in the small clover in her grasp. “I’m going to take this back and press it between a couple of books or something so I can save it.”

“Yeah, you should.”

All guys have a dream girl, someone they hung posters of in their teenage rooms. Someone who occupies their mind when they want to feel good. We all have a not-in-this-lifetime celebrity crush. But not all of us get a date with her. The closest most of us get to our dream girl is a picture of her on our phone.

Yet I’m sitting across from mine.

Maybe I’m in awe, my brain fuzzy with the rush of spending time with my crush, but I’m feeling things I’ve never felt. Wanting things I’ve never wanted. Loving every second of this first date knowing it won’t be our last. Until Annalise shatters it all.

“I’ve had the best time tonight, Jaden. I’m so glad we did this. It was amazing to get out and take my mind off work. Thank you for a perfect evening. And I don’t know… maybe we can stay friends somehow. Like texting pen pals.”

Texting pen pals? What in the actual fuck…

My face must give me away. Annalise reaches across the blanket and takes my hands in hers. She continues, her voice quieter now. “I’m sorry. I was serious when I said this was a one-night thing for me. It’s nothing against you, I promise. You’re great, and I’ve had the best time tonight. I’m just not in a dating place. You know? Plus, I’m only here for another month, and then I’m off to the next shooting location. I’m really focused on my career right now. I wouldn’t be any good at dating, anyway. I’m sorry.”

I swallow and force a smile. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you had a good night. And who doesn’t need another friend.” The words are sour as they leave my mouth. Placating nonsense that in no way represents the way I really feel. I feign nonchalance, though I feel dead inside.

I’ve learned a lot about Annalise tonight, but what strikes me the most is that she is just as stunningly beautiful on the inside as on the outside. Now that I’ve spent time with her and know a little bit more about her, I’m more obsessed with her than ever.

I can’t force anyone to want me—I know that. But it doesn’t mean I can’t try.