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TWELVE

LENNON

“Do I look like the kind of guy who ‘ dates ’?” Saint says haughtily, lips curled at the edges in a cocky smirk.

Of course he neither looks nor seems like the kind of guy who takes a girl out to a nice dinner. He absolutely seems like the kind of guy who would have you for dinner instead.

A shiver dances down my spine at the thought, and he arches a brow.

“No, but that’s exactly what I’m banking on. You’re an asshole, and you have the manners of a farm animal, and that is precisely what will send my father careening over the edge.”

For a second, he says nothing, and I shift from one skate to the other, an awkward, heavy silence hanging in the air between us and making me feel even more ridiculous for asking this.

I knew it was crazy and completely ludicrous, but still, I?—

“Fighting is my favorite foreplay, Golden Girl. Just so you know. Keep insulting me. It makes my dick hard.” His deep, raspy voice rips me from my thoughts, dousing me in figurative ice-cold water.

A visceral reaction that I’m not in control of. Goose bumps dust my flesh, and my heart seems to slip out of rhythm at the carnal, velvety seduction in his words.

God, he’s crass and beyond inappropriate, and for some reason… my body responded to it.

“What? Is that too much for you? Didn’t you just say you wanted an untrained asshole?”

I open my mouth to speak, then snap it shut.

That is what I said, but his inability to behave like a normal person seems to still surprise me despite the time I’ve spent in his presence.

“Yes, when we’re surrounded by the rich and high society of New Orleans and not alone .”

“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that?” He chuckles, skating closer, crossing the proverbial and literal line that separates us on the ice.

“So you want me to be your boy toy? The spoiled, rich princess leaving her million-dollar mansion and slumming it with trailer trash? Daddy doesn’t want you all dirtied up by a guy like me. Hmm?”

Lifting my chin, I run my tongue across the front of my teeth and lift a brow. “Whatever you want to call it, the outcome is the same. I never thought I’d be making deals with the devil, but desperate times and all of that…”

“And you couldn’t think of anything else to piss daddy dearest off other than me?”

“Why doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business,” I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. He’s the most infuriating person I’ve ever met in my life.

“It is my business when you want to use me, Golden Girl. I’m more than just a hot body with a big dick. I have feelings too, you know?” He feigns hurt like he actually does have feelings, which we both know is bullshit.

My eyelashes kiss the top of my eyelids because I roll my eyes that hard as I let out a defeated sigh.

“You know what? This is never going to work. I knew better than to ask you, so how about we forget I ever said anything and go back to ignoring each other. Okay? Great.” When I turn and start to skate back to the other side of the rink, his fingers wrap around my forearm.

“Wait.”

Slowly, I turn back toward him with a look that could most likely kill.

Saint licks his lips, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and for the first time, I notice the faint cut along the corner, still slightly raised and red.

“Say that I agreed to be your glorified arm candy. Hypothetically . What exactly does that mean? What would I have to do? My schedule is packed. Regular season is starting, and I can’t just parade around town with you at your beck and call. ”

“I never said that you’d be at my beck and call. Don’t be dramatic.”

He snorts. “I think we both know which one of us has got the flair for dramatics here. Remember your Oscar-worthy performance the other day?”

“If you agreed to this, then I would just need you to attend a few events with me, maybe a dinner or two. Just enough to convince my parents that I’m head over heels for you.

Which is going to be nearly impossible as it is, but as long as I can keep myself from murdering you, then we can pull it off. The quicker, the better.”