Page 17 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)

“I was too.” He chuckles, like this is a normal reaction. “I’ll have a whiskey, neat. And my girlfriend wants …”

“A margarita on the rocks, salt, with an extra shot of tequila on the side,” I say, needing to calm down. “And an order of chips and salsa.”

She walks away, leaving us alone.

“Does that happen a lot?” I ask him.

His brown eyes meet mine. “Not as much anymore. Most people have forgotten I ever played and know me from other things.”

“Does it bother you?” I ask .

“Not really. Being forgotten comes with retiring, which is inevitable for every player. Part of the game is knowing when to quit. That’s why I tried hard to break records—to ensure I’m remembered as one of the best in the league,” he answers, then pauses, realizing I’m devouring every word.

I could listen to him talk for the rest of the night. “You’re so pretty.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I whisper.

Soft laughter releases from his lips as he rotates his body more toward me, almost to face me. “Give you a compliment?”

“Yeah,” I tell him.

“Just so you know”—he leans in close and speaks only loud enough for me to hear—“I don’t give fake compliments. Ever. ”

Nick pulls his phone from his pocket and turns the camera on. He snaps a picture and shows me.

“Oh no,” I mutter, staring at the picture.

“What?” His brows are lifted.

“I have the look .” I gasp.

“What look?” He stares at the picture, trying to figure it out.

“I cannot fall in love with you.”

Laughter rolls out of him. “Then don’t.”

“This feels too easy,” I say, my voice low, staring at the photo.

“We look good together, like we belong,” he confirms, and hearing him admit that does something to me.

“I think we might break some people’s hearts on November first,” I say, hoping mine isn’t one of them. I’m already trying to predict the town’s reaction when I explain why we’re over.

He smirks. “I’ll be your long-distance fake boyfriend as long as you need, babe. I have no plans to hop into a relationship anytime soon. Kinda good on that.”

“Agreed. It honestly feels good not to have to try to impress you,” I tell him. “It might be you and me indefinitely at this rate.”

“I’m down for that,” he says. “Would make my life so much easier.”

“Me too,” I admit. “My mom would stop trying to hook me up with a different guy every week. I think she’s scared I’m going to be single until I’m in my prime.”

“There is nothing wrong with that, if it’s what you want.”

Our drinks are set in front of us. I lift the extra shot of tequila, downing it, wanting it to shake my nerves loose. Nick sips his whiskey and continues to read the menu. Every once in a while, he steals a glance at me and grins. It’s adorable.

The chips arrive, along with fresh salsa that has just enough kick to keep my mouth on fire. We order our food. With the lights low and how close we’re sitting, I’m suddenly aware of how intimate this feels. I can smell his cologne, feel his warmth, and I want to be closer.

“So,” I say, taking a sip of my margarita for courage, “I should probably give you some feedback.”

Nick turns and twirls a strand of my hair with his finger as he studies me. “I’m listening.”

“You’re good at this.” The tequila makes me braver. “You actually listen. Being with you doesn’t feel forced or too much. You make it comfortable.”

“Yeah?” He sounds pleased.

“Yeah.” I pause, then add quietly, “The closeness is nice and not too overbearing.”

His thumb traces circles on my shoulder. “And what about this?”

“Not too much.” Goose bumps trail over my arm, and I try to brush them away.

His brows lift, and before he can say anything, a shadow falls across our table.

“Jules”—Craig’s voice cuts through the moment—“can we talk?”

“No,” I say.

“Come on. Five minutes.”

Nick’s arm tightens around me. “She said no. We’re actually on a date, and you’re rudely interrupting it.”

Craig’s eyes narrow at our closeness. “This is ridiculous. You’ve known him what, two days? ”

“Actually, a year,” I say. “Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

“A year ?” Craig laughs bitterly, and I can smell beer on his breath. “Funny how you never mentioned him.”

The dining room quiets, and my heart rate increases.

Craig’s face flushes red as the restaurant watches our drama unfold like it’s dinner theater.

“Funny how you never asked about my life when we were together, but care so much now,” I counter.

“You’re using him to make me jealous.”

Nick starts to respond, but I squeeze his hand, stopping him. This is my battle.

“Craig, I need you to understand something.” I keep my voice level. “Not everything is about you. Nick and I are together. You and I are over. Those are two separate facts that have nothing to do with one another.”

“Jules—”

“Please leave us alone,” I snap.

Craig stands there for another moment, giving me his best go to hell look, then storms off, nearly knocking into our server.

“Well handled,” Nick says quietly.

“I’ve had practice. It’s not often I have to use my manager tone.” I take a sip of my margarita and laugh. “He’ll probably text me later with either an apology or more accusations.”

“Want me to fuck him up?”

“Yes, but also, he’s not worth it.”

Our food eventually arrives, and we both ordered steak and baked potatoes. When we’re halfway through eating, Nick’s phone vibrates on the table. He glances at it and frowns.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s just my little brother, who has been a total pain in my ass.” He lets it ring.

“Answer it,” I say. “It might be important. ”

He playfully groans, but picks it up, putting it on speaker but keeping the volume low. “Asher, I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy. Or avoiding me. Which is it tonight?” His voice is smooth, teasing.

“I’m on a date.”

There’s a pause, and it’s followed by sarcastic laughter. “Right. You’re on a date. In Cozy Creek. Where the nightlife consists of that one bar.”

“I’m dead ass serious.”

“Are you going to keep her around longer than thirty days?”

I raise an eyebrow at Nick, who looks embarrassed.

“I’m literally sitting next to her right now, and you’re on speaker, so thank you,” Nick grumbles.

“Prove it.”

He looks at me. I shrug and lean in.

“Hi, Asher,” I say. “This is Julie, and I have a feeling Nick is going to beat his thirty-day deadline this time. Would you like to place a bet on it?”

Nick softly chuckles, and it eases his tension. I bump into him.

The line is silent, but I see the seconds still counting down.

Asher scoffs. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, and our food is getting cold because we’re right in the middle of a date. So, we should probably let you go.”

“Mark your calendar,” Asher says. “Thirty days from the first date, he will try to run. Don’t let him. Nick will always have the sudden urge to reorganize his entire life or go through a mini self-discovery phase that requires him to be alone.”

“Why do I care?” I ask him. “His past relationships don’t affect us.”

“Also, that’s not entirely true and—” Nick starts.

“Remember Jessica? You suddenly had to take up rock climbing in Europe. Or Sarah? You realized meditation was the key to your problems. Then there was Emily and Tiffany and Hannah …”

“Goodbye, Asher. ”

“Julie! Get my number from him and call me. I’ll talk you through every single one of his exit strategies!”

Nick hangs up, jaw clenched tight. “Sorry about him.”

“Thirty days, huh?” I tease.

“It’s not intentional. I get restless. Most people are more into me than I am them. I try to end things before someone gets hurt.”

“Should I expect you to decide to hike the Appalachian Trail in mid-October?”

He laughs.

“We’re different,” he says, then seems to catch himself. “Because it’s fake and we’re committed until November first. Already, you’re beating my records. It’s a clean ending. No need for exit strategies.”

“Right.” I do the math quickly. “That’s two weeks longer than your usual.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “I guess Asher will have to start telling my dates six weeks, going forward.”

We finish our food, and he pays, completely ignoring my offer to split the check. I’m slightly tipsy, and Nick holds me close as we stroll down the sidewalk.

Outside, the September air is cool against my skin, causing me to shiver. Nick drapes his jacket over my shoulders without me even asking. We walk back to my condo, our hands linked together. I’m not ready for the night to be over, but I know we’re rounding the end.

The streets are full of tourists, and music streams from a karaoke bar that opened up on the corner. Laughter and the sound of plates clattering echo from the diner. Cozy Creek is full of life, and the season hasn’t fully started yet.

“Your brother seems like he enjoys giving you shit,” I say.

“It’s his favorite pastime. He and Dyson both.” Nick squeezes my hand. “They think my thirty-day thing is hilarious.”

“Is it really that consistent?”

“Unfortunately.” He glances at me. “You’ll be a personal record.”

“Breaking records makes a person unforgettable,” I tell him, recalling what he said about his hockey records. The way he glances at me makes my pulse quicken.

We round the corner to my building, and my stomach drops when Mrs. Mires, Craig’s aunt, steps outside with her ancient poodle, Mr. Whiskers.

She hasn’t seen us yet, but she will in about two seconds.

Her phone is already in her hand; she’s probably texting Craig right now about her nightly surveillance, telling him I’m not home yet.

“Shit,” I whisper.

Without thinking, I turn to Nick, grab his sweater, and pull him down to me. Our lips crash together, and for a second, he’s surprised. Then his hands come up to frame my face, and he’s kissing me back with an intensity that makes my knees weak.

This is nothing like our coffee shop kiss. This is pure instinct, pure want. His tongue traces my bottom lip, and I open for him, a small sound escaping that I’ll be embarrassed about later.

One of his hands slides into my hair while the other wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel his heart racing, matching mine. The world narrows to just this, us, his mouth on mine, the solid warmth of his body, the way every nerve ending seems to spark to life at once.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. I’m vaguely aware that Craig’s aunt has hurried inside, Mr. Whiskers yapping from being rushed.

“Jules,” Nick breathes, his forehead resting against mine.

“She was going to see us,” I whisper, but it sounds like a weak excuse, even to me.

“Right.” His thumb traces my cheekbone.

Neither of us moves. We’re standing so close that I can feel his breath on my lips, and it would be so easy to lean back in. His eyes drop to my mouth, and I know he’s thinking the same thing.

“Kissing you feels too good,” he mutters.

“It’s just chemistry,” I say, trying to sound practical. “Physical attraction. ”

But his hand is in my hair, and his thumb is still stroking my skin.

“Is that what this is?” he asks. The question lingers for an eternity.

We finally step apart, and the loss of his warmth makes me shiver despite his jacket around my shoulders.

“I should go inside,” I say.

“Yeah.”

But we’re both standing there, staring at each other like we’re trying to figure out what just happened because that kiss has made me forget anything else exists.

“Nick—”

“Six weeks,” he says, like he’s reminding himself as much as me. “We have six weeks.”

“Six weeks,” I repeat.

One wrong move could ignite a fire that will burn us both down.

“Good night, Jules.”

“Night. It was fun. Hope we can do it again, boyfriend.”

“Oh, babe, we will.”

He waits until I’m inside before leaving. I lean against my door, fingers pressed to my lips, trying to catch my breath.

My phone buzzes.

Craig

I can’t stand knowing you’re with someone else.

Ig-fucking-nored.

It’s followed by another one.

Nick

I’m sorry if that was too much.

I stare at the message.

Too much? Kissing him was everything. I keep that to myself.

Julie

Every part of tonight was perfect. We did great. Thank you for being a good sport!

Nick

Helps when I have a great partner.

Julie

Do you have plans tomorrow night?

Nick

I don’t.

Julie

Want to join me at the harvest festival kickoff celebration? It’s tradition. I never miss it. Will probably head over there around five.

Nick

I’d love to join you.

My heart skips.

Julie

Can’t wait!

Nick

Me neither.

I plop down on the couch, wearing his jacket, with my lips tingling from that kiss. Tomorrow is the festival, and something tells me everything is about to change. I have to remind myself it’s only temporary, and six weeks is all we have. And that thought terrifies me more than anything else.