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Taylor

F riends, let me ask you this: What do you do when you walk into your shared Jack and Jill bathroom and come face to face with the hottest NHL player on the planet…and he’s butt ass naked?

Well, if you’re me, you run.

Or at least, that’s what I did. Okay, wait, that’s not entirely true. First, I gasped like a fish out of water. Then I stared. A long, hard stare. Yes hard, and I think you know exactly what I mean by that. Then I rolled my tongue back into my mouth, and sprinted back to my bed, like I was fleeing a crime scene.

Why did I run you ask? Excellent question, because clearly, I want this man. So let me break down the reasons why I absolutely had to bolt.

He’s my brother’s best friend and roommate, and they’re on the same NHL team.

He’s a lot older than me. I’m still in college and he’s getting established in life.

I would never, ever want to come between my brother Kalen and Elias.

My brother made it clear to his teammates that I’m off limits. Thanks, bro.

Mr. Greek God can have any woman he wants. I’m not the woman he wants.

So, this my friends, has been my life. But if you think that’s the worst of it, you’d be wrong. Why, you ask again? Oh, because he asked me to take a fast trip home to California with him for Thanksgiving and pretend to be his girlfriend to get his meddling mother, and his father off his back.

Did I agree?

Of course, I did.

Will it be torturous?

Of course it will.

But what’s a girl to do? Elias comes from a powerful political family—his father happens to be the governor of California—and they want him married to the right girl, with the right pedigree.

Am I that girl?

(Insert hysterical laughter here!!!)

Ahem. Sorry about that, and please forgive all the exclamation marks. I don’t usually do that, but I wanted to get the point across with actions not words, but here are my words anyway.

No, I am so not the right girl for him.

I’m younger, looking to have a little fun, and I come from a broken family. My mother passed away when I was eight, and during that time, my dad was having an affair with his best friend Miles. I’ve forgiven him, but none of that will go over with the Ariti family, not when Elias’s father one day wants to run for president of the United States.

Nevertheless, Elias asked me to go, and I want to help the guy out. He’s been a bit mopey lately, keeping his head down, and I haven’t seen him with a woman in a long time. I think something happened, but the guys keep me in the dark, mostly. What I do know is that Elias’s actions reflect on his family, and I feel for the guy. I mean, sure, my brother is ridiculously overbearing, wanting to control my every move. I know it’s because he cares, but sometimes it can be too much. He’s felt responsible for me since my mom died and we moved to Connecticut to live with our grandmother, who sadly passed a little while ago.

It's always been Kalen and me against the world.

I love him for it, I really do, because he has my best interests at heart. I’m not sure Elias’s family has his best interests at heart. They only worry about how what he does affects them. At least, that’s my understanding.

But back to the point of me not having the right pedigree. Elias came up with a plan to ‘sell’ me as his fake girlfriend, as a rising Hollywood star.

I’m not.

I will never be an Oscar-winning actress and I’m okay with that. I am, however, a theater/dance student at Boston College, and my goal is to one day open my own dance studio for children. That won’t happen, though. It’s a pipe dream, considering how many dance studios there currently are in Boston. It’s not feasible to open another and I don’t want to disappoint my brother. He brought me here because I was floundering, not knowing what to do with my life. I’m still floundering a bit despite all the opportunities he’s given me and honestly, I’m embarrassed by that.

But now, here I am, standing in my bedroom, the Jack and Jill bathroom between Elias and me doing nothing to muffle his voice as he tells his mother he’s bringing a woman home for Thanksgiving. Judging from his tone and the answers I’m hearing from his lips, his mother is drilling down, wanting to know all the details about this mystery woman.

This is going to be so much fun.

Not.

My phone pings and it’s my best friend, Sahara. We’re in a local play together and she and my brother have a thing. Which I’m totally okay with. Double standard? Hell yeah. He can date my best friend, and only friend outside of the WAGs, yet I’m off limits to his colleagues. Rude. But I think Sahara and Kalen are made for each other, and what she doesn’t know is that he’s currently on the way to her brother’s place to surprise her for Thanksgiving. Originally, we were supposed to visit Dad in New York, but Miles is sick, so now I’m headed to California and my big brother is headed to Connecticut.

Will I have to share a room—a bed—with Elias?

Ohmigod, sharing a bed, and not touching, tasting…that’s a special kind of torture.

I read Sahara’s message and let her know that Elias and I are just about to head to the airport. Yes, she knows how I feel about him. She’s the only one. Although, I’m not great at hiding the sexual storm inside me and can act a bit jittery around him. Maybe that’s why I’ll never be an Oscar-winning actress. Not that I want to be. But that’s the role I’ll be playing for Elias’s parents.

The door from Elias’s room to the bathroom opens, and I go still as heavy footsteps sound on the tile floor. Knuckles rap on my door, and I hurry and pull it open. The second I see Elias standing there, his big frame taking up all the space, my heart skips a beat.

Honestly, I’ve lived with my brother and Elias for a few months now, since moving here and starting college. You’d think I’d be used to the sight of the man, and not turn to mush whenever he’s nearby.

“Hey,” he says, and runs his fingers through his short, dark hair as equally dark eyes narrow in on me.

“Hey,” I return, and try not to sound breathless. I fail miserably, but like I said, I am not that great of an actress.

He looks over my head, an easy chore, considering the man towers over me, and at five foot eight, I’m by no means short.

“You still want to do this?” He arches a brow, and I get it. He knows I could hear his conversation. I do love that he worries about me, in a big brother kind of way. Okay, wait. I don’t mean I like that he thinks of me as a sister, I don’t. But I do love that he’s afraid his parents will judge me and subject me to an in-depth interrogation.

The thing is, I don’t really feel the stress. Simply because I don’t really need them to love me. Although, what’s not to love? Kidding. I just need them to buy into the act, that I’m perfect for their son and would be a great addition to the Ariti family. A star in the making that will reflect positively on their image. I assume it’ll work for a while, until Elias really does find the love of his life, someone his parents will wholeheartedly accept.

Until then, I’m buying the man some much needed freedom. Plus, I get a trip to California out of it—we’re leaving a bit early because of his schedule—and come New Year’s, a trip to Vegas. Oh right, I forgot to mention that he’s attending his best friend’s wedding in Vegas this year, and as his loving girlfriend, I get to attend. Now that’s going to be fun.

“Yes, I want to do this,” I respond when he looks back at me with deeply concerned eyes. I put my hand on his chest and the second I feel his strong heartbeat, I realize the mistake in my actions. The pulse in my neck jumps, and my entire body heats up. “We got this.”

“It will be a fast trip. We’ll be back for my game on the weekend before we know it.” He puts his hand over mine, and gives it a squeeze. “I really appreciate the help, Taylor. I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” That pulls a laugh from his throat. I grin. “I’ve always wanted a pony.” He laughs harder.

“A pony for a weekend with my family.” He shakes his head. “You are not asking nearly enough.”

“You sound like you don’t like them.”

“I do like them. A lot. Which is why I want to make them happy, give them what they want. They’ve been good to me, Taylor. I just don’t want them to upset you. They’re going to dig, to get to know you, to see if…”

He lets his words fall off, and I get it, there are things I don’t know. Things he and my brother have kept from me. As I think about pushing for an answer, I purse my lips and tap my chin, but when I do, and I notice the way his gaze strays, a strange kind of heat in his eyes, my heart lurches. He’s not…. interested, is he? Sahara insists he was, but I don’t know. I mostly act like a silly schoolgirl with a crush when I’m around him. He either doesn’t notice or is not going down that path, and that’s for the best. We’re both loyal to Kalen and neither of us would ever do anything to hurt him.

I guess it’s a good thing he’s moving out soon. A girl can only keep her sanity for so long, and my battery-operated friends aren’t cutting it anymore. What was I even thinking the other day, asking if he needed a roommate when he moves into his big-ass mansion?

Momentary loss of reasoning ability?

Wanting to get under my overprotective brother’s skin?

Wanting one single night alone with my brother’s best friend, even though I know I can’t go there?

All of the above?

Check!

“Well, think about what else you want for helping.”

“Okay, I’ll think on it.”

Once again, his words—not to mention the fist playfully nudging my chin—remind me I’m his best friend’s kid sister, and I had to have been imagining the interest in his eyes.

He makes a move to go. “We need to get a move on it.”

“Wait, do you think they’ll be concerned about our age difference?”

He shrugs. “I’m sure they’ll be concerned about a lot of things.”

I think about pushing, to find out what happened in his past, but when he glances at the door, like we need to move, I let it go. “Let me grab my bag.”

“I got it.” He walks around me, and I don’t even try to avert my gaze. Nope, I stare at his perfect ass, packaged in snug dress pants that hug his tight buttocks to perfection. Hockey and a strict gym regimen have done this man wonders.

I glance down at my own attire. Dammit, I’m in yoga pants. I dressed for comfort. Elias, however, always dresses well. I guess he has to. The media are all over him, not just because he’s NHL star Elias Ariti, but because he’s the son of a prominent political figure.

He hikes my bag over his shoulder and walks out of my bedroom door. Phone in hand, I follow behind and he grabs his bag from the front door. Outside, he heads to the Uber he ordered, and tosses our bags in the trunk as I lock up.

Every few minutes I glance at him, and mostly find him deep in thought, scrubbing his hand over his chin. My insides tighten. Everything in me wants to unbuckle my seat belt, lean into him and help him forget his troubles for a while. But no…that would be wrong.

“You enjoying your program at Boston College?” he asks, making small talk.

I’d floundered for a while back in Darien, not knowing what to do, and after Grandma died, I moved here with Kalen and found my love of theater. “Yeah, I love it. Have you always wanted to be a hockey player?” I ask him. We might live in the same house and eat around the same table, but our conversations are usually light and about everyday things.

A smile comes over his face and it warms my insides. “Dad would have liked for me to follow him into politics, but from a young age, I loved hockey. It’s a game and it’s hard, but there’s a freedom when I’m out there on the ice. I can tune everything and everyone out, and while it’s work, it doesn’t feel like work, you know?”

“Hockey always came easy to Kalen, too. He was a natural like you. He never had to work too hard at it. He didn’t even have to work hard at school. The guy is good at everything.” Except relationships. He’s not good at those. I’m hoping that will change for him soon, though.

As I take in Elias’s profile, I think about what he has to work at—putting on a performance for the paparazzi. What would this man be like…unleashed. I realize he’s kind and protective like my brother, and I live behind closed doors with him, but what would he really be like if he didn’t have to keep himself in check all the time.

“You’re good at acting.”

He casts me a fast glance and I nod. “I’m not Meryl Streep, but when I’m on stage, I get to tune everything and everyone out too, and be someone else.”

“You don’t like who you are?” he asks with real curiosity in his voice.

“I do, but sometimes it’s really nice to let go.”

His brow furrows and dammit, I really want to be the girl to help him let go. I get the feeling something happened to this man, something that has made him cautious, reserved. Not that he’d tell me. He and Kalen keep me out of the loop most of the time.

We talk a little more about hockey and acting, until we reach the airport, which is crazy busy for the holidays. The Uber pulls up to the curb. Elias tugs a ballcap low on his head and grabs our bags. We make our way inside and his hand closes around mine when I nearly get caught up in a stream of people hurrying to their gate.

“Hey. Stay close. I don’t want to lose you in here,” he warns in a concerned voice, like I’m some accompanied minor.

Yes, Dad….

Ugh, he really does think of me as Kalen’s kid sister.

Prove to him you’re not, Taylor.

Yeah, sure, and then destroy my brother and his relationship with his best friend. Not going to happen.

“I’m trying,” I tell him as he drags me closer, anchoring me to his body, and I try not to revel in the warmth curling around me. I guess that’s why they call him the anchor on the team. He’s their stability, strength and reliability.

We make our way to security, and his body stiffens when someone calls out his name. “Shit,” he mumbles, and squares his shoulders. Going into professional hockey player/son of a politician mode, he turns, a smile on his face. I’ve seen it before. His hand tightens around mine, and I’m not even sure he’s aware that he’s squeezing, but it says so much about his turmoil.

“Hey,” he says to the man hurrying our way, giving a nod of his head to greet him politely. The man, obviously in the media, gestures for his friend to get his camera ready and the next thing I know, I’m seeing stars, and not the good kind, you know from sex—at least the battery-operated kind that I’m accustomed to. No, these stars are from all the damn flashes.

The journalist’s gaze slides to me, and my vision clears because I realize it’s time to pull out Taylor Turner—my stage name—and slip into character.

“And who might you be?” the man asks, a shine in his eyes, like he’s about to win the Pulitzer Prize.

I’m not that important, buddy.

In a move that feels possessive—or maybe it’s just that I want it to be—Elias stands a little taller, getting into character too as he pulls me close. I suddenly can’t help but think we’re more alike than I ever realized. We’re both always performing in the limelight.

“This is Taylor Coolidge. My girlfriend.” Strange he’s using my real name. As excited voices buzz around us, he smiles at me, and for the briefest of moments the world falls silent to my ears. Lord, this man is in the wrong profession, because he’s giving everyone an Oscar-winning performance. I stare up at him, no doubt looking like a cartoon character with its tongue spilling from its mouth and rolling across the floor. Are my eyes bulging with hearts too?

Dramatic, I know, but speaking of tongues…

Elias bends forward, and as his soft lips capture mine, for what I assume is just supposed to be a fast kiss to satisfy the media, I moan. He goes still for a second, and as my brain kicks in, and I berate myself for making any kind of noise, his hand slides around my back. He pulls me against him, his sweet tongue sliding between my parted lips, to tangle with mine.

Holy Hell, everything in the way he’s devouring my mouth has me wanting to drag him to the airplane bathroom to join the mile high club.

But this is fake, and that can’t happen for numerous reasons.

Right?