Page 10

Chapter Nine

STELLA

“Holy shit. Your tits look fan-freaking-tastic.” Eva gapes from her spot in my bedroom doorway, eyes firmly glued to my chest.

“Do you think the dress is too much?” I ask, turning back to my full-body mirror. Thankfully, during Greyson’s first game, I hit it off with both Lilly and Ari. The two were polar opposite but still comforting and welcoming in their own ways. Ari was so exuberant and energetic that it distracted me from my nerves. Meanwhile, Lilly was the calm to her chaos. Ari had zero hesitations on asking for personal details about my life and relationship with Grey. Lilly took simpler approaches, asking me about where I work and my hobbies.

It felt wrong to tell them small truths, not quite letting them in while they freely gave so many details about their lives. Halfway through the game, I was so disarmingly comfortable around them that I almost slipped up and mentioned Harper. Luckily, I was quick to cover it up and spun the story to sound like I was babysitting Zoey.

By the time the game was over, they had both asked for my number so Ari could plan a girl’s night. Since none of us have been able to find a time that works for all of us in the last couple weeks, it really shouldn’t have surprised me that they immediately started freaking out in a group chat when they found out I’d be attending tonight’s gala and tomorrow’s tournament.

And thank heavens they did, or I would have shown up very underdressed tonight. Greyson had emailed me the details for the Strike Cancer Gala. Yet even after reading every piece of information given and seeing pictures of their own selections, I couldn’t help but wonder if my dress was going to stand out in all the wrong ways.

“Nope,” Eva says dramatically as she throws herself onto my bed. “It’s perfect. You’re the perfect mix of temptation and classy.”

I run a hand down the front of my white, strapless satin dress. The sweetheart neckline forms perfectly to my breasts, but now I find myself wondering if I’m showing too much skin.

“Maybe I should wear the backup. This is a childhood cancer event. I don’t want to come across as risqué or flashy.”

Eva shoots up, scowling at me in the mirror over my shoulder.

“Don’t you dare fucking change. You look stunning.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want my boobs to be?—”

“Stells, I mean this with all the love and maybe a little envy, but there is no hiding those babies. Besides, it’s not like they’re at risk of popping out. They look secure. It’s what Addison would refer to as ‘tasteful boobage.’” She raises a brow and holds up her phone. “Turn around and we can put it to a vote with Ads and Thea.”

Rolling my eyes, I humor her and let her snap a picture. Less than a minute later, my phone is buzzing with updates from the group chat. I move to pick it up off my nightstand and can barely keep up as I get bombarded with texts.

Eva: Stells is worried she’s showing too much skin, please tell her I’m right.

Thea: HOT DAMN!

Thea: Boobs = just enough to make one’s imagination wonder but also covered enough to demand respect.

Thea: That lil slit going up your leg = me wondering why the hell I like men…

Addison: IT’S CALLED TASTEFUL BOOBAGE!!

Eva: I told her you’d say that! Yet she’s still wondering if she should change.

Addison: Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.

Thea: Why the hell would you do that? Have you looked in a mirror? I see it right behind you, turn around and LOOK AT YOUR SEXY SELF MAMA.

Addison: If dresses could speak, that one would be saying: “Greyson fumbled me but now he needs my help. Which I’ll give, because I’m SUCH a nice person. But I’ll also show him what he’s missing out on.”

“See, votes are in. No changing. Boobs are perfect. Make the man choke on his decisions.” Eva grins at me before looking back down and responding to whatever next message comes in. I toss my phone onto the bed beside her, choosing to ignore the conversation for now, and move to my dresser to find jewelry.

It isn’t until I’m putting the backing on my earring that I finally realize how quiet it’s been for the past few minutes.

“Where are the girls?” I ask, glancing over at Eva.

“In Harper’s room. I hid a small unicorn and told them if they could find it before you go, they get a special treat.”

I stare at her, tilting my head to the side and trying to hold back my laugh. “Harper’s room is full of unicorns, though.”

If there is one thing that could solve all problems for Harper, it would be unicorns. I couldn’t even tell you how many she owns because they just keep appearing.

“Exactly. I told them they have to figure out which one is new and that only I know the answer.”

“That’s…”

“Genius, I know.”

“I was gonna say, that’s only going to take her a few minutes.”

“Um, no. Have you been in her room? There’s no way they find it by the time you?—”

She’s cut off by Harper yelling “found it!” followed by the sound of two giggling little girls running down the hallway.

“Shut up right now,” Eva says just as they burst into my room.

“I gots it!” Harper shouts, waving it in the air and twirling around in victory. I meet Eva’s shocked gaze and shrug.

“My girl knows her unicorns.”

Yet she can’t remember where she leaves her shoes every morning.

“Mama, look!” Harper says, finally turning to show me the newest addition. Only once she spots me, her extended arm that holds the toy drops at the same time her jaw does.

“Wooow, Mama. You look like a princess,” she says, walking slowly toward me before dropping into a squat and staring up at me. My heart instantly melts at the adoring way she watches me and it takes everything I have not to get teary-eyed.

Since the moment Harper learned to form full sentences, she’s never held back her thoughts. To a four-year-old, there’s nothing wrong with asking why I have lines on my stomach or why I have purple under my eyes. I never mind her harsh truths. Simply laugh them off and tell her why my body is how it is and that there’s nothing wrong with it.

But it does mean that I hold her compliments that much closer to my heart.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

“Can you twirl?” Zoey asks from her spot beside Eva and I finally notice that she’s watching me with the same fascination that Harper is.

“I mean, yes, but this dress doesn’t poof out, I warn them but humor the children anyway. Sure enough, only the bottom half of the skirt flares out around my calves, but the girls still squeal. Harper falls back onto her butt while laughing and narrowly avoids getting hit by the fabric.

Somehow the girls manage to convince three more twirls out of me before I finally have to say no and head out. While Eva distracts the girls with some animal crackers, I finish putting on my heels by the front door.

Eva hands me the new white clutch I bought to match the dress and smiles at me.

“Try to have some fun tonight.”

“Lilly and Ari will be there. Plus, I think Paige mentioned she and Garrett would be stopping by. As long as I’m not left alone with Greyson, I should be fine.”

She nods, glancing over her shoulder to check on the girls, and my stomach swoops. Reaching out, I give her arm a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being your hype girl.”

“Not for that, although…yeah, maybe that too.” I laugh, shaking my head and motioning to where Harper sits on the living room floor with Zoey. “Thank you for helping with her so much. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.”

Eva shakes her head but smiles at me. “Girl, you help out just as much with Zoey. Since you moved here, I feel less like I’m flailing about to make sure she’s taken care of or picked up from school.”

I shrug. “Still, it feels like you’re doing so much more.”

“That’s only because your work takes place on nights and weekends. But don’t cut yourself short, Stells. You picked Zoey up from school three times last week and made sure she was taken care of until I could get home. You don’t have to thank me because this isn’t about IOUs or tit-for-tats. We’re a team.”

And once again tears swell at the corners of my eyes. There hasn’t been a single moment that passes where I don’t think about how grateful I am for my small circle of people. Everyone always says that it takes a village to raise a kid, but I’ve found with the right couple people, it works out just as well. Sometimes even better. Eva’s been by my side for years now, but I never imagined we’d be bonding and relating this closely over raising toddlers together.

Eva’s eyes widen and she steps back dramatically. “No, no, no. You will not cry. Your makeup is too perfect to smear. Go on, get out of here before any tears fall.”

Her reminder is enough for me to laugh it off and hold back the onslaught of emotions.

“Fine. I’ll go. But sometime in the next few weeks, I’m taking Zoey for a slumber party so you get a night off.”

“Sure, sure.” Eva shrugs me off and practically corrals me to the door, barely giving me time to shout my goodbye to Harper.

When I got offered this job, agreeing to attend extravagant events was something I hadn’t thought twice about. Even after signing the contract with Greyson and seeing a gala listed as one of the events, in my mind, it wasn’t a huge deal.

However, past me is an idiot.

For starters, seeing Greyson waiting on the sidewalk in front of his building in a three-piece suit when my ride-share driver dropped me off seemed to short-circuit my brain.

That man has absolutely no right looking as good as he does. The kicker to it all is that he most definitely caught me checking him out.

Just as I spot Lilly and Ari coming out of the apartment building behind Greyson, the sleek black limousine that pulls up to the curb distracts me.

“You got a limo?” I ask dumbly, eyes wide as I try, and fail, to hide my shock.

Grey simply shrugs, messing with his bowtie as he answers. “The guys and I thought it made more sense than taking three separate cars.”

I nod, but the nerves in my stomach flutter to life once more. Back in high school, Greyson would have to go to black tie events monthly to keep his mom off his back, but it was never something he brought me to. Not because he was trying to hide me, or because I didn’t want to go, or that I refused to support him. My company at his mother’s fundraisers or galas was simply something we both agreed would not end well. I knew I would feel uncomfortable, and he knew he would get pulled away to mingle with his parents’ colleagues and friends, inevitably leaving me alone. So to keep us both happy, he would attend alone and mingle for a couple hours before smuggling a plateful of fancy hors d’oeuvres out and meeting me at my house.

The one night that the two of us could have come close to playing the part his mother would have approved of was prom. Except, neither of us wanted to go. Instead, we snuck away for the night and went to our camping spot.

Now, standing in front of a limo, both of us dressed up in a way that teenage us would have laughed at, I can’t stop the feeling that I don’t belong from whispering beneath my skin.

If I were seventeen, there’s no doubt I would have tucked tail and bailed. It’s a damn good thing I’m not that scared girl anymore.

Sucking in a deep breath, I give myself a silent pep talk, reminding myself of everything I have done to prove I’m capable of doing this job.

I’ve just managed to hide my shock and discomfort as Lilly, Ari, and Dominik join us.

“Landon’s helping Dean with his tie and then we can go,” Dom says, motioning behind him where the two are standing at the building entrance. I’m so caught up in watching the two guys fuss over a tie that I am not prepared for the shriek directly in front of me.

“Holy shit, Stella. You look stunning !” Ari shouts while practically tossing herself at me for a hug. I try to brace myself but still stumble and am almost convinced we’re about to tumble to the ground, when an arm bands around my lower waist and keeps the two of us upright.

Ari finally releases me, not even noticing how close we came to meeting pavement as she rattles on about regretting picking a dress that required a bra. But I barely hear her.

The warmth of Greyson’s arm around my waist is still there and my heart skips a beat as his woodsy cologne invades my senses. I should move, slip out from his hold and not let him get this close to me.

Instead, I stay frozen at his side, breathing him in and nodding along blindly to whatever Ari and Lilly are saying.

It takes me until Landon and Dean join us for me to finally convince my one working brain cell that I need space between myself and Grey.

“Thank you,” I whisper without sparing him a glance and move to get in the limo.

A glass of champagne is shoved in my hands the second I find my seat, something I’m immensely grateful for as Greyson slides in beside me. I don’t plan to finish the whole thing, but a few sips hit the spot for a perfect distraction. The warmth of his body beside me only makes the lingering impression of his arm around me harder to put from my mind. Luckily, the entire ride to the venue is filled with Ari and Dean’s endless stream of banter. Even as I watch them with an amused smile, I continuously find my focus drifting back to the man beside me.

The limo stops in front of a gorgeous hotel downtown and I stare down at the still half full champagne flute in my hands. What I wouldn’t give to throw the rest of it back in one simple chug. However, I remind myself I am technically working right now, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast. Adding alcohol to the mix right now would be a horrible idea.

Landon opens the door, stepping onto the waiting red carpet with ease before turning back to offer a hand to his sister. The sound of the waiting crowd and the flashing lights flow in and suddenly, I’m back to wondering who the hell I thought I was to agree to this.

Everyone else slowly files out, giving time for the couples and Dean to be photographed one by one instead of in a group. When it’s time for Greyson to go, my hand flings out to his arm, stopping him from leaving. He turns back to me, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“I just…I need a second.”

Greyson nods, twisting in his seat to block the view of the open car door. I close my eyes, attempting to tune out all the noise and ground myself. I really should have suggested sticking to smaller events or games until I was confident that I could handle being in front of the press like this.

“Hey.” Grey’s low rumble pulls me from my thoughts, and I slowly peel my eyes open to look at him. “It’s a quick two minutes. We get out, take a few steps, pause for a beat to let them get their pictures, and then we’re inside.”

My head bobs up and down but neither of us moves until Dean’s face pops up over Greyson’s shoulder.

“You two coming?” Dean throws an arm around Grey’s neck and smirks at me. “If he’s trying to hide you away, just say the word and I’ll gladly escort you in. A beauty like you should be shown off.”

Suddenly, Dean grunts and his arms slip from Greyson as his face contorts in pain.

“Fuck, man, no need to get so touchy. Just making sure you’re not trying to hide her away.” Dean groans and flashes me a pained smirk before ducking out of sight.

All I can do is stare at the spot Dean vacated, letting the subtle compliment sink in. Deep down, I know Dean wasn’t truly trying to hit on me. To him, he was just baiting his teammate with what he saw as a truth.

Greyson tucks his chin to his chest and grumbles something under his breath. After a couple seconds, he finally straightens out and extends a hand toward me.

“Ready?”

With my shoulders squared, I carefully take his hand and slide out from the safety of the limo. With both my feet planted on the velvet red carpet, I focus on making sure my dress is straight while letting the humid air seep into my lungs. Most people I talk to will complain about the stifling air here but having been born and raised in the Southern heat, it’s a welcome comfort. After living up north for almost five years, you’ll never hear me say a single thing against the warm weather. Especially when it means I don’t need to add a thick layer over a beautiful dress like this.

Feeling more confident than I had a minute ago, I’m about to retract my hand from Greyson’s when he gently guides my hand to rest in the crook of his elbow. My head tips back as I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, but he takes a step forward and suddenly, everyone is shouting his name while cameras in every direction flash repeatedly.

The next sixty seconds happen in a blur. All I can do is hold on to Greyson’s arm with a smile and follow his lead. With the one heartbeat of awareness I do have, I sneak a glance at Greyson, shocked to find that stoic look of indifference on his face. My chest aches at the realization that the only time I’ve seen him smile was the forced fake one he gave the two girls at his first game.

If someone had told teenage me that Greyson Moreno would be most known as the grumpiest professional hockey player, I would have laughed in their faces. Greyson was my ray of sunshine throughout high school, seeming to find a friend in every single person he met. Even when I did have moments of weakness and crept on him over the last few years, I never truly believed the articles that painted him as a frigid man. While I still can’t fully believe those to be entirely accurate, seeing him up close like this, I can’t help but wonder if they do hold some truth.

I know all too well just how much can change in five years.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as we enter the venue and for the next two hours, there’s barely even a second to remember to drink water. Everyone that has anything to do with the Bobcats’ hockey team makes their entrance and mingles with each other while slowly finding their dinner tables. Outside of the players themselves, Lilly, Ari, and my bosses, any name I learn goes in one ear and out the other. Since Garrett owns the team, the small reprieve of having a conversation with people I do know was very short-lived since he had so many other people to greet.

By the time we finally sat for dinner, my feet were practically screaming to be out of the new heels. The three-course meal was filled with mindless chatter at our table, where we luckily sat with the group we arrived with. While entrées are cleared from the tables, I can’t help but be grateful for the limited one-on-one time I’ve had with Greyson.

After being alone with him for the car ride to the arena at the last event, I knew without a doubt that we were a spark waiting to ignite. And once that match was lit…I knew just how easily this false peace we have found would burn to the ground. So for the sake of both our jobs, it was for the best to never be left alone.

The room simultaneously goes quiet as a familiar-looking man steps up to the podium on the stage at the front of the room.

Ari must notice my confusion from where she sits beside me because she leans closer to whisper, “That’s James Matthews. Head coach and Lilly’s dad.”

My eyes widen, snapping to where Lilly sits across the table beside Dominik. I definitely need to find out how those two got together. Wasn’t dating your coach’s daughter some unspoken rule of things not to do?

“Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to be here. It is an honor to be able to stand before you all once again and kick off our biggest event of the season where all proceeds will be donated directly to the organizations who support those battling the disease every day and to help those working to end childhood cancer. Before I go into details for the silent auction tonight, I want to take a second to remind everyone how you can go about donating throughout the year, and not just tonight.”

Coach James continues letting everyone know the simple ways they can help. A sense of pride washes over me, knowing that the city I now live in has a team that is so involved with something of this magnitude. I make a note to look into the other events and themed nights that were listed on the team’s website to learn more about how they help and even what I can get involved in once my contract with Greyson is up.

“Now, for the next hour, the adjacent ballrooms have been set up with tables that are filled with over a hundred donations. There are things like sunset kayaking tours, winery tours, and weekend getaways. We have paintings from local artists, gift cards to restaurants here in Tampa, and so much more. All proceeds from every single bid will go directly to the team at Strike Cancer Down. Once the hour is up, the night is over. Winners will be contacted via the information that is filled out over the next twenty-four hours, so there is no need to hang around.”

James pauses, casting a glance in our direction where the majority of his players are seated. “We have an early morning for the fishing tournament, so it’s best to be well rested.”

Laughter erupts from around me as James finishes up and announces to get to bidding.

As a group, we head into one of the ballrooms to start browsing. While everyone moves on to the next item, my attention lingers on a weekend getaway to a cabin on a lake in the Georgia mountains for the holidays. I easily recall the location of the northern mountains, knowing it’s likely they could get a little snow if lucky. Even if it was only an inch, it would make Harper happy considering the breakdown she had about not getting snow in Florida. And if it doesn’t snow, it would at least give us a little change of scenery.

I’m so lost in reading the details, mentally calculating if I could afford this bid, and if Harper could handle the day trip it would take to get there, that I don’t even notice when everyone starts to drift away. When I finally look up, everyone else is already halfway across the room.

Everyone except Greyson, who is just staring at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you up,” I say and am about to move to catch up with the others, but something in his expression makes me freeze.

“What?” I whisper, unable to think of anything else to say.

Greyson’s eyes flick to the table behind me. “That’s close to Blue Ridge.”

I’m about to ask him why that matters when it dawns on me: that’s where we used to go.

I barely get out the words to excuse myself to the bathroom. My heart pounds loudly in my eardrums as I move through the crowd. Faintly, I hear someone call my name, but I don’t stop. The bathroom door is just out of reach, when a hand wraps around my arm and tugs me to the side.

“What are you?—”

“We need to talk,” Greyson cuts me off, checking both directions before guiding me into a coat closet. There are no doors, just an entryway into a small closet filled with mostly empty hangers, likely since the weather is so perfect tonight that no one felt the need for a jacket. There was just enough space for the two of us to face each other with barely a foot between us.

“Unless it has to do with this event or the next, no, we don’t,” I say, ripping my arm from his hold and crossing my arms over my chest. His hold wasn’t tight or demanding, and even as he blocks the way out, I know I could get out of here if I tried.

The likelihood that someone will interrupt us is extremely low, but not unlikely, which means I should be getting myself out of this situation quickly.

So why the hell am I not moving?

Greyson just watches me, not making a single move to talk even though he’s the one who said we needed to. I shake my head, tossing my hands in the air in a ‘what the fuck’ motion.

“If you’re not actually going to say anything, then why are we here?” I go to take a step around him, only for my foot to get caught on the edge of my dress, making me trip forward.

Directly into Greyson’s chest.

He catches me with ease, his arms wrapping protectively around my waist as he steadies me. When he doesn’t let go right away, I ignore the embarrassment that heats my cheeks and tilt my head back to look at him.

Which is a huge mistake.

Every inch of my body hums with the awareness of every spot he touches me. The warmth of his hand on my lower back burns through the fabric of my dress and my breath comes out in rushed gasps.

Apparently, my hormones missed the memo that they should not be reacting so extremely to a man who broke my heart.

“Grey…” I start, but the pain etched across his face makes me pause.

Slowly, one of his hands leaves my waist and I suck in a shaky breath as he reaches up to carefully brush the stray curl from my eyes. Holding my breath, I wait for him to drop his hand and back away, which is why I certainly don’t expect him to tenderly cup my cheek.

“I missed you,” he murmurs so damned low I almost think he didn’t speak at all.

My mouth parts and all I can do is stare at him, trying to think of something to say but not landing on a single thought. All those years of rehearsing in the shower just exactly how I would tell him to fuck right off are nowhere to be found as he leans down.

I should shove him away. Should stomp on his foot or slap him across the face. Should remind him that I’m technically working right now and this is beyond inappropriate.

When his lips meet mine in a barely there caress, instead of doing any of that, a single ‘ yes ’ whispers through my mind, and the next thing I know, I’m kissing him .

His hand on my cheek slides through my curls to the base of my skull before tightening and holding me in place. Greyson tugs me closer, removing any remaining distance as my brain goes blank with anything that isn’t in the moment. His tongue passes over my lips, a silent demand for more. I don’t even hesitate to give in.

Kissing Greyson is second nature. Something I’ve done countless times but didn’t think I still knew how to do. His tongue clashes with mine, drawing a moan from my throat before I can stop it.

But the sound meeting my ears is exactly what I needed. I break the kiss, pushing him away but not removing the hold that I have on the lapels of his suit jacket.

We both stand frozen, breathing heavily and staring at each other with wide eyes.

I’m the one who looks away first when movement over his shoulder catches my attention. It takes a moment to process what I’m seeing and when it does, my muscles tense.

The man behind the camera a few feet away grins like this is the best day of his life.

I peel my fingers from Greyson’s clothes, my face heating with both anger and embarrassment that I even fell for this.

“I thought we would be professional adults,” I snap under my breath and step away from Grey. His brows scrunch together, and he shakes his head, but I don’t let him speak. As I continue, I keep my voice low so no one overhears. “We agreed to make it look like you were close and if people assumed we were intimate—that was on them. However, showing off a physical relationship was not in the contract. Do not use me like that again or the deal is off.”

I shove past him, ignoring the cameraman who jumps away with a pitiful yelp, but I don’t address him. Instead, I keep my mouth closed as I head straight for the door and pull out my phone to get myself a ride home.