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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DECKER

“Mr. Decker! Your order’s here. Two sandwiches today, huh?” Niko yells from behind the counter, craning his thick neck in an attempt to look out the glass front door. “Got someone special waitin’ for ya? Who is it today?”

I ignore the insinuation and grab the two paper bags from his hands. “Nah, one’s for Princess.”

“Which princess, huh?”

“You know which one.”

“Surely you don’t mean a pop princess.” An ornery smile unfurls below his bushy mustache.

My jaw goes slack, but I quickly recover. “Niko, you know you can’t believe everything the internet says. Half of it’s lies. Take it from me.”

He laughs as he rips down some little papers hanging behind the counter. “Sure, sure. You just never know with you, huh, boss?”

Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile at his antics.

I’ve been coming here for years. He practically has my order memorized.

It’s not a restaurant I see Lena liking, but I had a craving today.

Beyond that, I kind of want to see how Miss Pop Princess reacts to a couple of greasy deli sandwiches.

I don’t know why I’m denying this very real, not-real relationship right now.

That was the whole point. It was our agreement.

Pull this thing off, get everyone to believe that it’s the real deal.

It’s one thing to fool strangers online or for five seconds at a restaurant, it’s a totally different thing to lie about it to someone’s face that I’ve known for years.

I throw a chunk of cash in his tip jar—extra today, mostly to make myself feel better about the lies, but he deserves a bonus anyway. Maybe he’ll use it to finally spruce this place up. “The only Princess for me has four legs, you know that.”

“That I do, boss! That I do!” He waves as I back out the glass door, the little bell ringing overhead as I exit.

Lena jumps when I throw my car door open, her phone dropping into her lap.

“Geez, give a girl a warning,” she says, adjusting her seatbelt.

“The warning was when I left and said be right back.”

No wonder Gustav follows her everywhere. This girl has gotten so used to it, she’s almost forgotten she’s sitting in a strange vehicle in a not-so-great part of town. I’m surprised he let her go along with me so easily.

I plop the bags in her lap and buckle up. “We’re eating at my place.”

“Better than the car, I guess.” She leans forward, nodding toward Niko’s Deli as I throw the car into reverse. “Or in there.”

“It’s not so bad.”

She stares at me incredulously. “One of the windows is duct taped.”

I follow her sightline and realize she isn’t wrong, but that doesn’t compromise the quality of Niko’s food.

Everything I’ve ever had there is worth the drive, the duct tape, the extra layer of dust coating the fake grapes hanging from the ceiling of the waiting area.

Not even the grease-coated floor could deter me after what I’ve tasted.

“If I weren’t starving, we’d be going somewhere else.” She huffs and sits back, checking her watch. It’s endearing that she’s holding her phone, yet for some reason, she still refers to her watch. “Plus, I need to get back soon.”

I nod. “Work waits for no one.”

A knock on the passenger window nearly sends Lena scrambling over the center console.

I press the lock button just as some wild-haired and wilder-eyed woman reaches for the handle, crying and begging for a photo with Lena.

A few others join in the frenzy at the mention of Lena’s name, and soon there are people tugging at both our doors.

Lena gasps, squeezing my hand until reality slugs me across the face.

My pulse ratchets up like I’m in the middle of a big game.

Without another thought, I throw the car into reverse.

The growing horde chases us across the parking lot until I peel onto the main road and weave back into traffic.

“You should get your money back for that window tint,” Lena quips, letting out an unsteady breath.

From my peripheral, I can’t help but notice how her eyes dart from the passenger mirror to the rearview.

She may be making jokes, but it’s clear she’s shaken.

Case in point, her hand is still firmly locked around mine, fingers cinched tighter than a jockstrap.

A small part of me wants to make some snide remark just like I know she would, but instead, I stay completely silent.

I don’t draw attention to her iron grip.

I don’t let go, no matter how numb my fingers may be.

I let her hold on, not just because it’s the anchor I know she needs, but because I think I need it too.

Guilt slices through the unexpected warmth budding in my chest as I consider all of the other—much worse—scenarios.

Seeing her this way now—frightened, vulnerable, her composure shattered—it makes my stomach churn.

I did this to her. The seemingly unflappable Lena Lux has been thoroughly rocked, and it’s my fault.

As I speed down the road, not sure where I’m going, I know one thing for certain. I never want to see her this way again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone,” I say.

“I was fine when I was alone. It’s when you showed up that everything took a nosedive.

” Lena turns to face me at the exact moment she must realize she’s still holding my hand.

Jerking free, she busies herself with smoothing her dark hair.

“Can’t wait to see how everyone spins that little fiasco online.

I wonder if they’ll solely focus on the fact that I ignored my fans or that I was with a new guy. ”

I flex my hand to regain the feeling in it and turn toward Lena. Her empty stare pierces the windshield.

I clutch the steering wheel tighter. “Are you okay?”

Another breath quivers from her lips. “I shouldn’t have told Gustav to hang back. People like the ones we just saw are literally the reason I hired him.”

“So why didn’t you bring him?”

She sighs, her facade of composure restoring itself one snarky word at a time. “Because it’s awkward enough spending time with you one-on-one, but it’s painful when there’s a third wheel."

“Painful? Ouch.”

Her lips twitch into a smile. “Thanks, though.”

“For what?”

“For getting us out of there. I froze up.”

I don’t admit to her that for a split second, I did too. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t protect my woman?”

Lena rolls her eyes.

Flipping on the blinker, I careen into the turning lane.

“This isn’t the way to the studio,” she says.

“We’re still doing lunch at my place.” I glance over at her, hoping for some kind of response, but her lips are pressed into a tight line. “If that’s okay. I can take you back. I understand if you’re too?—”

“I’m not ready to go back yet.”

I nod and accelerate back toward where we came from, watching out the windshield as the buildings slowly go from endearing—albeit a bit rusted and chipped—to stiff and modern.

Bleak. No personality. I sigh as we turn onto my street and head toward my building.

It’s the tallest one on the block. Sleek.

Industrial. Cold. Nothing like the cozy little house I grew up in.

It may have been falling apart half the time, but it was home.

The year I signed with the Kings, this building was brand new, the best in the city, and I bought a condo right then and there.

I was twenty-two, a fifth-round draft pick, and eager to start my career and spend whatever was negotiated in my rookie contract.

That was when I realized I’d finally made it.

The years I’d invested my all and let my parents pour whatever time and little money they had into my dreams had finally paid off.

They did it for Ian, and then they did it for me.

This building was proof of my success beyond the jersey and the paychecks.

But the longer I live in this place, the more I realize how different I am from who I was when I chose it.

Every day I’m here, I crave something simpler more and more.

Somewhere with a yard to mow, for Princess to spend her golden years in.

For now, it just makes more sense for me to be in the city, close to where practice is. Where the stadium is. Where my life is.

I peek at Lena from the corner of my eye.

That’s one thing we have in common, I guess.

Both of us are on the road for work quite a bit, at least part of the year.

I wonder if she gets tired of it the same way I do.

Although, I’m grateful my travel stints are typically only a few days.

Up until my injury last year, I loved it. Now, I’m not so sure.

I clear my throat. “So, where do you call home?”

“Like the city or what?”

“Wherever you consider home.”

She thinks for a moment. “Well, I’m from Florida. And I love Florida. My dad’s still there. So I guess that’s home. But work is mostly here, so I spend the majority of my time in Vista.”

“Why doesn’t he come to Vista City?”

“He visits sometimes, but won’t move here.

It’s kind of a long story.” She’s quiet as I pull into my building’s private parking garage and find my spot.

Then she sighs. “He thinks I work too much. My mom disagrees. They don’t like being around each other much anymore, so he stays in Florida, and we stay here.

Or there. Or wherever my next show is. You get it. ”

“So, are they divorced?”

She shakes her head. “Probably should be, but no. Not yet.”

“Do you think you work too much?” I ask.

“Not really. It’s work. It’s a lot of dedication, but I love music. And if you love what you do, it’s not really work, right?” A faint smile finds her lips as her eyes meet mine. “At least that’s what they say.”

“But what do they know? They all think we’re dating.” I smirk, pop open my door, and round the car to open hers like the gentleman I am. At least when I have a girlfriend—even if it’s pretend.

“We are dating.” She latches onto the bag in her lap and wiggles out of the car. A finger pushes into my chest. “And don’t you forget it.”

I laugh, shutting the door behind her before guiding her out of the garage. “Kind of hard to forget when everyone has already started whispering about it. Even the deli guy was gettin’ in on the gossip.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, he was way more into this than any of the other rumors.”

She’s quiet for a long moment as we hop into the elevator. “Well, now I definitely need to know what these rumors are. I should know something about my boyfriend.”

“You know a few things.”

“Like what?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

She turns to face me, leaning back into the mirrored wall of the elevator. In this reflective box, there’s a hundred of her, and it strikes me just how beautiful she is. Not a single bad angle.

She presses her lips into a tight line, squinting at me like I have the answers written on my face somewhere. “Your older brother plays for the Kentucky Miners”

It’s cute how pleased she looks with herself. The elevator dings and I step out to guide her in the right direction. “Okay, so you know something about Ian Trace. What about Decker Trace?”

“I know he speaks about himself in the third person.” She makes a gagging sound before dissolving into giggles. “What do you know about me? Huh? Time to put you on the spot.”

“I know you like sour gummy worms.” We approach my door, the welcoming echo of Princess’s nails clicking against that hardwood floor on the other side. “Probably too much.”

I unlock the door and crack it, then turn to face Lena whose mouth is hanging open, her dark brows angled sharply down her nose.

She looks like she wants to fight me, but as soon as she hears Princess whining on the other side, her face relaxes, her demeanor shifts, and her pretty blue eyes shine up at me.

Then she’s shoving me out of the way and falling to her knees in my doorway.