Page 19

19

Piper

I retreat to the Airbnb suite where Maddie and I have been staying. Luckily, it’s empty when I slip inside. Good. I need a silent room to scream into a pillow without an audience.

Which is exactly what I do. “Aaaargh!” I smother the sound in the plush hotel pillow, half-laughing, half-crying at how unbelievably screwed I am.

When my heart finally calms enough for coherent thought, I wrestle with my next move. Finish the dare. That means I have to get Jake to fall for me. But Sadie doesn’t know my real plan yet— fake dating. If I can spin this properly, I might not have to cross too many ethical lines.

But first, I need to talk to Jake, pitch him the idea in a way he might actually buy it. Of course, there’s a massive stumbling block: I just posted that scathing Penelope Darling article about him, and he’s probably fuming, even if he doesn’t know I’m behind it.

I sigh, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes. This is about survival now. My livelihood, my blog, my friendships—everything is on the line. I can’t chicken out.

After a few minutes of pep-talking myself, I decide to go find Jake. If I delay this, it’ll only get worse.

***

I discover Jake on the far side of the ranch’s massive yard. He’s wearing a fitted T-shirt and faded jeans, leaning against a tree as he types on his phone—probably responding to the fallout from Penelope Darling’s latest article. My stomach twists with guilt.

The moment I approach, he lifts his eyes, a spark of curiosity (and maybe annoyance) lighting his gaze. “Piper.”

“Jake,” I reply, forcing a wide, overly bright smile. “Got a minute?”

He pushes off from the trunk, pocketing his phone. “Yeah. I guess.”

We walk a few yards away to ensure privacy, the soft crunch of grass underfoot the only sound besides my thumping heartbeat. He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps flexing in a way that’s unfairly distracting. Stay focused, Piper.

“What do you want?” he finally asks, voice clipped.

I clear my throat. C’mon, Piper, you can do this. “I…have a proposal for you.”

His eyebrows lift, surprise flickering over his features. “A proposal,” he echoes flatly.

“Yes,” I say, raising my chin. “You’ve probably seen the damage from the latest Penelope Darling post. And you and I both know your public image isn’t exactly squeaky-clean right now. It’s been battered between those gossip blogs and your own…uh, activities.”

Jake’s jaw tightens. “If you’re just here to rub salt in the wound, I’ve got better things to do.”

He starts to turn away, and panic claws at my chest. “Wait! No, that’s not it. Actually, I want to help you improve your image.”

He stops, turning back with a sardonic smirk. “You do?”

“Yes,” I insist, trying to project confidence. “Let’s face it: you’re the star of our hockey team, a local legend, but you’re battling negative press all the time. You might act like you don’t care what people think, but I know you’re worried about your daughter, your family’s reputation, and the sponsor deals that might hinge on your good-guy image.”

His smirk fades as I strike that nerve. “Keep talking,” he says, a guarded tone creeping in.

I take a quick breath. “I propose a…fake relationship.”

He blinks once, slowly. “Excuse me?”

“You and me,” I say, gesturing between us. “Dating—publicly, visibly. I’ll blog about it.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. “This is about your blog?”

Partly. Of course, it’s to save my own hide from Sadie, but he can’t know that. “My blog has some pull too,” I say quickly. “If people see that we’re dating, we can shape a narrative: you’re a doting single dad who’s capable of a real relationship, not some arrogant playboy. Meanwhile, your fans see another side of you—soft, sweet, family-oriented.”

“Soft and sweet?” he repeats dryly.

I roll my eyes. “Stop pretending you’re not at least a little sweet. I’ve seen you with Violet. You could give the sugar aisle at the grocery store a run for its money.”

A flash of humor crosses his face, but he tamps it down. “So, you get what out of this? More readers?”

“Exposure,” I say, hoping he buys it. “Exclusives. People will be dying to read about Jake Ice’s relationship. My blog is on the brink of…expanding. This could be beneficial for both of us. I’ll spin the articles to show you in a more flattering light.”

He’s quiet for a beat, chewing on my words. I can almost see the wheels turning in that gorgeous head. “You think that’ll make me look more stable?”

“Exactly.”

“And what if I say no?”

My heart seizes at the possibility. Then Sadie wins, and I’m toast. But I can’t say that. I shrug, trying for nonchalance. “Then you’ll miss out on some good PR, which might become necessary with sponsors, management, or even your next contract. We both know how quickly reputations can tank.”

He takes a step closer, gaze boring into mine. “You sound suspiciously like you’re saving your own neck too. What aren’t you telling me?”

A nervous laugh bubbles up. “Jake, come on. My blog is in trouble, yes. I need a scoop. You need a better reputation. Let’s do each other a favor.”

He studies me with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter. “Let’s say I go along with this. How does it end?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, arms still crossed, making him look annoyingly powerful and, yes, hot. “Eventually, we ‘break up,’ right? Is that part of your plan?”

Oh. Right. The ending. Honestly, I haven’t thought that far, not with Sadie’s blackmail overshadowing everything else. “We can stage a mutual, drama-free split whenever we both agree it’s time.”

Jake’s gaze flickers down to my lips, then up again, a half-smile curving his mouth. “And if one of us wants out sooner?”

I force myself to keep looking into his eyes. “Then we talk about it,” I say carefully, “and figure out a solution that doesn’t tear each other apart in public.”

Another tense pause hangs in the air. Finally, he exhales. “You’re bold, Piper. I’ll give you that.”

“So is that a yes?” I try for a playful grin, though my nerves are coiled tight as steel wires.

His lips twist in a deliberate smirk. “You’re leaving out one important detail: if this is real to the public, we have to be convincing.”

I swallow. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning there’s going to be a lot of eyes on us. Pictures. Videos. Appearances at events. I’m not going to half-ass it if we’re going all in. That means you won’t, either.”

A current of heat seeps into my cheeks. He’s right: if we’re faking a romance, we need to look and act like it. There’ll be handholding, cuddling, kissing—holy meltdown, lots of kissing.

“Right,” I manage. “I’m prepared. I can handle it.”

His smirk deepens, as if he can sense my sudden jolt of nerves. “Be careful what you promise, Piper. I play to win.”

For a moment, the air between us feels electric. My pulse kicks up, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger, anticipation, or a weird cocktail of both. “Then you’ll do it?” I press, determined not to let my voice waver.

He nods slowly, each jerk of his chin measured. “Sure. I’ll give you a shot at spinning your little story. On one condition.”

My breath stutters. “What condition?”

“I decide when this ends,” he says, eyes dark. “Or at least, we decide together, but I hold veto power. I’m not letting you cut and run the moment you get bored or find a new angle. I’ve been burned before, and I’m not about to let you use me for quick hits on your blog and bail.”

I sense the underlying tension in his voice—memories of being trashed in that same blog that now claims to want to help him. Guilt stabs my chest. He doesn’t know the half of it.

“Deal,” I say, forcing a steady voice.

Jake extends his hand. I hesitate, then slowly place mine in his. His skin is warm, his grip firm—and the moment our palms meet, something tightens low in my belly. My pulse stutters. His fingers curl around mine, and then, with one smooth pull, I’m against his chest.

“Let’s seal it, then,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting across my cheek.

Before I can react, his hand slides to the back of my neck. A firm, claiming hold. My breath catches.

And then he kisses me.

I gasp, but heat floods my body instantly. It’s not tender or tentative—it’s a statement, a challenge. And damn it, I’d be lying if I said a part of me doesn’t respond just as fiercely, even as alarm bells clang in my head.

It’s a full-body, lip-to-lip assault that lights up every nerve ending. His mouth is hot and sure, parting mine with ease, tongue sliding in to taste me like he has every right. My knees nearly give out. My fingers fist his shirt, anchoring myself against the surge of want crashing through me like a rogue wave.

I should push him away.

I kiss him back instead—hungry, reckless, everything I shouldn’t be.

He deepens it, tilting his head to take more. The pressure of his body against mine is solid, possessive. I can feel the hard line of his thigh between mine, and even through jeans, it makes my entire body light up.

When he finally pulls back, I’m gasping. My cheeks blaze, and I can’t string a coherent sentence together. My lips feel bruised. My whole body hums like it’s been plugged into an outlet.

Jake’s eyes burn into mine, dark and wicked. “We’ll have to practice if we want it to look real.”

“Right,” I manage, though my voice is breathless. “Practice. Practice makes perfect.”

He chuckles, stepping back. “You’re really something, Piper.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, pressing trembling fingers to my lips.

I can still feel the tingling where his mouth just was.

With that, he winks and turns, heading off without another word.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?