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THIRTY

Jolie

“ G ood morning.” Those were two words I hadn’t expected to whisper toward the other side of my bed while I was in Vegas.

I also didn’t think that what had gone down yesterday afternoon, once I left the pool, and what had followed into the evening and the very early hours of the morning would happen either.

But as I lay under the comforter, facing the opposite end of the mattress, all I saw was Beck.

A sight that made me the happiest girl alive.

His arm was extended across the little space between us, his hand holding my cheek, his gaze still as hungry as when he’d carried me into this room. “Morning.”

That gaze—my God, I couldn’t get enough of it. The way it made me feel, the confidence it triggered inside me, the warmth it spread over me. I hoped he never stopped looking at me.

But as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and the silence began to tick between us, I knew a conversation had to happen.

Yesterday had changed everything. When I’d leaned my back against my door and watched him walk down the hallway, I had known that I wasn’t just making the decision to sleep with him. I was giving myself to him.

And the last thing I wanted after mentally making that commitment was to hang in this unknown place full of questions.

I’d lived far too many years with those eating away at me.

“I want to talk to you about something.”

I massaged the outside of my chest, trying to calm the beating inside. Anxiety was so fickle. I never knew when it was going to appear, how it would morph, what face it would wear, if it was going to seep in or pour out.

Right now, not only was it living in my chest; it was digging a hole in my stomach.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s about this …” I added more volume to my voice and traced the air between us when I said, “Us.”

He bent his arm behind his head and sat up a little. “Are you going to tell me it was a mistake? That it can’t happen again. That professionalism bullshit you’ve been saying on repeat?—”

“No.”

“Jolie, you’ve been playing this game with me for weeks. Giving me a little and backpedaling. You want me to flirt with you, and then you seem to regret it. You love when I fight for you, and then you don’t give in.”

He was right.

About all of it.

But it hadn’t been a game.

That was me struggling between wrong and right. That was me trying to weigh which side of regret would cut deeper.

That was me trying to do what my father would want and attempt to completely ignore my heart.

“But I gave in yesterday, and I told you, when that happened, I’d have to admit to you and to myself how much I truly cared about you.”

He chuckled. “A lot of people say a lot of shit the night before. It’s what they say in the morning that matters.”

I sat up, pushing my back against the headboard, and pulled up the comforter to cover my bare chest. In the process, his hand left my face. “Yesterday was a long time coming.”

“So was putting my face between your legs. But that doesn’t mean you want me to do it again right now. Or that you want to spend the rest of the morning with me or the afternoon or wake up tomorrow in my arms.”

“But I do.” The anxiety was coming in thicker, running sprints between my chest and stomach. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

I didn’t know why this was so hard for me to say. Was it because it felt like things had been dragged out for so long between us? Or my role with the Whales? Or the thought of having a chat with my dad about this and how it made me want to dry-heave?

“I want more, Beck.”

“More.” He said that like he needed to test how the word would feel coming through his lips. “Explain what that looks like to you.” He stretched his arm up, the blanket falling to his stomach.

“It would be everything I’ve always envisioned for us.” I paused. “I’m not talking about just the physical stuff. I’m talking about all of it.”

He wet his bottom lip with his tongue while he listened.

“Being together. A … relationship.”

He stroked the outside of my thigh. “You know that’s what I want.” He gave me a small smile. “And you know it’s what I’ve been waiting to hear you say. But why now? Why during our first week of travel?”

“I literally couldn’t take another second of being away from you. I was fighting against what I wanted and making myself miserable in the process.” My eyes closed for just a moment. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Beck. Since my sophomore year of college, it’s only been you.”

He leaned across the bed and put his mouth by my ear, breathing me in before he kissed my cheek.

“You’re making me so fucking happy.” When he pulled back, his eyes changed.

“But what about your dad, Jolie? The team. Everything you’ve been worried about.

You’re telling me none of that matters to you anymore? ”

As my anxiety jolted, I drew in some air and patted the center of my stomach.

“I’m filled with worry about it.” I rubbed several circles over my navel and relocated my hand to my chest. “I have no idea how Dad is going to react. I worry I’ll lose the respect of the team when they find out I’m sleeping with their captain. I?—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. That team—those boys—they’re my family. If they’re told we’re in a relationship, they will know the gravity of the situation. You being mine is a very serious thing, Jolie, and they will treat you with nothing but respect.” He slid his hand behind my head.

That part was a relief at least.

But my dad was an entirely different beast that I was not looking forward to tackling.

“What if my dad doesn’t allow me to work for the team anymore?” Things were tightening within me, and I didn’t like it. “What if I get reassigned to my old accounts and I have to move back to Boston? What will happen to … us?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

I laughed. “You’re funny.”

“I’m not joking.” He rolled onto his side and moved his palm to my stomach.

“He’s the owner of my team, and that puts me in a position where I need to have a conversation with him.

And I’ll explain to him that we’re not new.

Things started long before you worked for the Whales.

” He moved his thumb around my belly button.

“Once he hears that, I’m hopeful he’ll look at things differently. ”

The thought alone had me sitting up straight.

“So, you think it’s a genius idea to drop the I slept with your twenty-year-old daughter bomb on my father?

That I moved into your hotel room and we had a three-night sexfest during one of your stopovers in Boston?

You think he’s just going to smile and nod and say, That’s my girl ?

” I waited for him to voice something as the nausea hit me and then added, “Are you high?”

“What does being twenty have anything to do with this?”

“I was a baby.”

He winced. “You weren’t a fucking baby. You weren’t even living at home anymore. You were working and going to school full-time.”

I crossed my legs in front of me. “You’re saying never once in your mind did you think, Holy shit, am I really into a twenty-year-old who lives in a dorm? ” I waited for him to respond. “We both know I just won that round.”

He moved in closer, locking our stares. “Regardless, we need to have a conversation with him. There’s no way around it. I don’t know what details will be included in that talk, but I’m sure as hell not mentioning a three-day sexfest.”

“You just … don’t know my dad.” I focused on my hands as they fidgeted with the comforter.

“That’s true. But I’ve gotten to know him decently well since he purchased our team. We meet almost every day. We have conversations that aren’t always about hockey. Things are good between us.”

I glanced up. “They are now. But just wait.”

He put his hand over mine. “Listen to me. We’re going to deal with this. We’re going to figure it out. Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.” He raised his hand into my hair. “The most important thing is that you’re mine.”

When I nodded, he pulled me toward him, and I rested my face on his chest, my arm wrapping around him. “I don’t want to leave this spot right here. Our very own little bubble. Where no one knows and it’s our secret and everything feels perfect.”

He pulled my fingers up to his mouth and kissed each tip. “It will be when they all find out too. Stop stressing about this.” As I was letting out a deep sigh, he said, “Is that your phone blowing up?”

My phone was on vibrate—that was how I usually kept it—but Beck was right; I could hear the pulses rattling against something. And that something had to be one of the many items inside my purse.

My purse?

I really hadn’t checked my phone at all since Beck had carried me in here yesterday?

No.

I hadn’t.

A realization that was suddenly slapping me back into reality.

Shit.

“It’s probably one of my assistants. I should go look.” I glanced up his chest and smiled. “Do not move.” I slid out of bed and found my bag on the floor by the entrance, reaching inside to get my phone.

The screen showed over thirty missed calls.

More than fifty texts.

And an explosion of social media notifications.

What the hell?

My thumb shook as I swiped it over the screen, scrolling through each of the missed calls.

The phone calls had started at around ten in the evening and went straight through this morning, an equal number from Celeste and Joel—my assistants.

The last call that had come in a few seconds ago was from my father.

Oh God.

I went to my texts, and the first one I pulled up was the group chat I had with my assistants.

Celeste

Jolie, the second you see this, I need you to call me.

Joel

She still hasn’t called?

Celeste

No.

Joel

Where is she?

Celeste

I have no idea.

Joel

I just knocked on her door, and she didn’t answer.

Celeste

I don’t want to make a decision without her, but someone needs to do something.

Joel

Do we call Mark?

Celeste

I’m shivering at the thought.

Joel

Same.

Celeste

If we don’t hear from her in an hour, I’ll call Mark.

Celeste

Still no word from Jolie … I’m calling him.

Celeste

Jolie, don’t hate me. I swear I’m doing this because I have to, not because I want to.

Joel

Oh boy. Keep me posted.

Celeste

Mark’s aware of the situation, he told me to send all the info to the PR crisis team. They’ll be calling me in the next hour.

Joel

I’m at the hotel. If you need me, I can meet you, and we can take the call together.

Celeste

Yes, come to my room—252.

Joel

The memes have started. Social media is exploding. It’s a fucking shitstorm.

Celeste

I’m too afraid to look. Bring wine when you come.

Joel

No, I’m bringing vodka.

“Oh my God.” My hand slapped against my heart. If I didn’t add pressure to it, I was positive it was going to burst straight through my skin.

I exited out of the group chat and scrolled to the next message.

Dad

I’ve never been more disappointed in you in my entire life.

“Jolie, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’re on the verge of throwing up?”

My gaze slowly rose and locked on Beck’s. He’d gotten out of bed and was standing not far from me.

“Something happened …”

“What do you mean, something happened?”

My head shook. “I don’t know. I missed it all. Because I was in here … with you.”