by Piper Rayne
“Well, think of it this way, I like you too much to find out if you have one just yet.” I wink, and she shakes her head and forks her pasta. “I will say one thing though, I love that you ordered food.”
“Do most people you’re interested in not eat?”
I laugh, but more times than not, they don’t. Or they eat something super small, like a side salad, definitely not a plate of pasta. “They do, but it’s different.”
She sets down her fork, wipes her mouth. “I’m curious, how many girls are we talking about?”
“Do you really want to compare numbers right now?” I arch an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “I don’t care anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess. Even if you say one person, that’ll be too high for me. I hate the idea of you with another man.”
Her fork slips from her fingers this time, resting on her plate of pasta. “What are you doing?”
Is my game that off?
“I thought my intentions were clear. I’m hitting on you.”
“I’m your therapist. You can’t hit on me.” Then she mumbles something, but all I make out is the word Jana.
“Okay then, let’s just enjoy a dinner together.” Maybe that will help her relax.
She forks her pasta once again and continues eating, never looking at me. We eat in silence for a while.
I glance around the room to see where Jana disappeared to, but I find her with Aiden and Saige, all of their eyes on Paisley and me. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched.”
Paisley shakes her head. “I never should’ve come here.”
“Why do you say that?” I down a mussel and pick up my fork.
“Because people are now speculating about the two of us and I have to remain professional. Having people think I’m your postgame piece of ass isn’t going to earn me the respect I need in order to do my job.”
The bite in her tone makes me smile. I like this feisty side of her. Still, I never thought about how it would look to the other guys. I’m not known for sleeping with puck bunnies, but if they start speculating that I’m nailing the therapist… she’s right, they might not take her seriously. And because I have too much respect for her, I decide to cool it with my flirting.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. How about we just eat our meals?”
Her fork hovers over her plate of pasta and she gives me an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”
A few beats of silence pass, and I hear Ford’s voice carrying over everyone else’s in this place.
“So… I might actually be a big fan of hockey,” she says.
My fist pounds on the table. “I knew it.” Then my gaze scatters across the room. The music is too loud for anyone to hear me. “Favorite position?”
“Goalie.”
I snap my fingers. “Damn. Should I call over Roadie?”
She shakes her head. “No. Plus he’s married with two kids.”
Although that doesn’t stop some players, I don’t say that. “True, but I’m sure he’d sign your tits.”
“Maybe my ass too?” She feigns excitement.
I laugh because we both know she’s not that kind of woman. “What is it about hockey? What spurred your interest?”
“Mr. Gerhardt buying the team. I didn’t know anything about the sport until he brought the Fury down here. Jana always dragged me along to the games because she didn’t want to go alone. I fell in love with it.”
“I’ve loved it since I was old enough to skate. Probably before that. My dad played on a men’s team when I was younger, and my mom would take me all the time. Funny enough, that’s how I met my best bud, Armen.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Her eyes widen and I love the genuine interest in them. “Does Armen play?”
“No,” I answer truthfully without giving her any other information. She’s my therapist, and if I go into Armen’s story, I might as well open a vein and bleed out my pent-up emotions all over her.
“I guess I assumed you both played professionally for some reason.”
“Nope.” I shake my head and press my lips together. “You and I meet again in two days.”
She nods.
“I heard someone say you’re traveling with us?” I ask, hoping it’s true. I might have to cool it in front of my teammates, but who cares what happens behind closed doors.
Her face scrunches up. “No, I don’t think so.”
“That’s what I heard.”
She must hear the conviction in my voice because she puts down her fork and pulls out her phone, scrolling through. Her jaw falls open and she looks at me. “You’re right. Mr. Gerhardt just sent me an email.” She shakes her head. “Good thing I don’t have too many clients to maneuver around.”
“Just wait. Do you know how to play Oh Hell?”
She shakes her head.
“I’ll teach you.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
I place my hands in the air. “Platonic. I swear.”
Maybe I need to take what I can get for the time being, but I’m not giving up.
When I was younger, I occasionally traveled with the Gerhardts on the Fury’s road games, but we’d take their private jet. I often daydreamed about what it would be like to sit on the plane with the players. What did they do on the plane? Was it like any other plane ride and everyone kept to themselves? As I got older, I wondered if they had strippers and alcohol overfilling their glasses, a constant party.
I never would’ve thought that half of them play video games, four of them play cards, and the rest of them read or mess around on their phones.
“Fucking hell!” Ford screams, slamming his cards on the table.
I pretend to be reading a book. Maksim asked if I wanted to play, said he’d teach me, but I politely declined. Maksim and Aiden high-five and Ford shakes his head, sulking in his seat.
“You’re the worst loser ever,” Maksim says.
“I swear you guys fixed the game.”
From what I know about Ford—other than the fact that he just got some random girl pregnant, because that’s all over the media—his family is rich. Überrich. I’m fairly sure he has a trust fund, but rumors are that he can’t touch it until he’s done with hockey. Because Ford managed to get Mr. Gerhardt to excuse him from meeting with me, the only other thing I know about him is that he’s a crazy skilled skater and makes killer hard passes through the neutral zone, feeding Aiden the puck. Which says to me he’s not all about being the center of attention like people assume. Not that he does much to dissuade people from having that opinion of him.
Aiden and Maksim look at one another and crack up laughing. “Who, us?”
I bite down my smile and bury my head in my book. The last thing I need is to get pulled into their conversation. I’ve reread the same sentence five times already. A big body takes the seat next to mine. I glance over, expecting Maksim.
“Mind if I sit here?” Ford asks, signaling for the flight attendant to bring him a drink.
I shake my head and continue reading.
“Why do chicks always read on planes?” he asks.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ford?” Maksim says from across the way.
“Just talking to our good therapist here.” Ford smiles at me.
His dark golden hair gives him a beach vibe, but Ford’s smile and charisma are all privilege. As if he was born knowing how to get his way, how to get people to bend rules. I’d bet that over the years, he’s perfected that craft, assuming nothing will come hard in his life now.
“You got out of therapy, remember?” Maksim says.
I don’t dare look up because jealousy is clear in his tone.
Ford puts up his hand. “This is an A and B conversation. C yourself out.” Then he situates himself so he’s facing me. “What are you reading?”
“A nonfiction book.” I show him the cover of the book that a college friend wrote about her own journey through therapy.
“
I thought it’d be some racy romance.”
“Do you read?” I tilt my head, keeping my finger as a placeholder in my book.
“I don’t know how.” His lips tip down and he gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Bullshit.”
He chuckles. “Why do you say that? Maybe I’m one of those athletes who got out of earning my grades because I was needed on the team.”
“I know of your family, Ford. I’m pretty sure it was demanded that you get a great education from top-notch schools.”
The flight attendant interrupts, bringing over a sparkling clear drink with a wedge of lemon and setting it in front of Ford.
“What are you drinking?” I ask.
“Sparkling water with a lemon. We have a game tonight.” He sips it and sets it on the table in front of us. “Let’s talk some more about what you know about me.”
“Yeah, men like you do like to talk about themselves.”
He stares at me for a beat, then a wicked smile forms. “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know anything about you. Not anything other than what the media says, which is probably only fifty percent accurate.”
“Well, I am having a baby with a one-night stand.” He confirms the rumors surrounding his name at the moment.
“And how do you feel about that?”
It’s a question I ask all the time in my practice, and I usually wouldn’t pry as much during a regular conversation like the one we’re having, but my gut is telling me that Ford wants to talk to someone about what’s going on. Maybe that’s why he’s sitting next to me. Why he would pick me, I have no idea. The man can afford far more brilliant minds to guide him through this change in his life.
He shrugs. “Terrified. I’m not sure where I fit in. My dad’s pissed. I kind of like that he’s so mad, but now he wants me to be part of the family business even more.”
I nod and glance around, finding Maksim watching us intently. “Why is your dad mad?” I ask in a low voice.
He scoffs. “Because how cliche can I be? Not being careful and getting a girl I don’t know pregnant. Regardless, the baby is a Jacobs and that comes with a lot of responsibility. He worries about Britney not being able to deal with the spotlight. Or that’s what he says, but what he really means is she doesn’t fit the mold.”
He sips his drink again and I put the bookmark in my book and tuck it at my side. “Britney is the baby’s mother?”
He nods. “I met her after a game in New York.”
“The baby is innocent in this situation,” I say, offering advice not as a therapist but as a woman.
He nods again. “I know, but how do I parent a child when I’ve got my own issues with my father I’ve never been able to figure out? I don’t want to be like him with my child, but at the same time, that’s all I know.”
I suck in my lips to stop myself from smiling. Ford Jacobs is worried about what kind of father he’ll be, that he could end up being a replica of his own father and that terrifies him. There’s more to this man than you see at first glance.
My hand lands on his forearm and he looks at me. It’s not hard to see why women find him so attractive. He’s got that Ralph Lauren model thing going for him. As though he belongs in khakis on a mega yacht. But mixed with that are layers that makes a woman want to peel them away. Not this woman, but I have no doubt many have tried.
“The decision of what kind of father you want to be to your child is completely up to you. There’s no gene that determines that, Ford. If you don’t want to be with your child the way your father was with you, then don’t be. It’s that simple and that hard. It’s not uncommon for new parents to struggle with their new roles, but you can do this. You just have to decide to do it and then put the work in to make it happen.”
A long, deep breath leaves his mouth and his eyes turn soft. “Thank you. Now can you help me beat the shit out of them at Oh Hell?”
I laugh and he laughs harder. A big shadow appears over us, and we both look up to see Maksim standing in the aisle of the plane.
Ford grabs his drink and stands, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Relax, big guy, just talking.” Ford winks at me and takes the magazine out of Aiden’s hands, to which Aiden mutters his displeasure.
Maksim sits down next to me without asking. “Aiden usually likes to explore the cities we travel to, so why don’t you come to my room for our therapy session?” His voice is low, so no one else hears him.
“Okay.” That will be our second session, which means we’ll be done with the therapy requirements put forth by Mr. Gerhardt after one more.
“Cool. See you then.”
Just when I think he’ll stay seated next to me and try to flirt and make me blush like always, he walks back to his seat. I guess he did take it to heart when I told him at Carmelo’s that I need to remain professional. Although it warms my heart that he heard me, my body yearns for the man who didn’t accept the barriers I erected. Where did that guy go?
After the plane lands, we go to the hotel, check in, and thankfully I don’t have to stay on the same floor as the players.
I take the elevator down to the players’ floor and find security standing guard at the end of the hall. He nods to me, and I walk down the long hallway to the room Maksim texted me earlier.
With my laptop bag at my side and my hair still up in a semi-messy bun after the flight, I look professional, so there’s no reason anyone should think anything is going on except me counseling one of the players. Still, I’d rather none of them caught me outside Maksim’s door. I knock and no one answers, so I knock again.
Aiden answers the door with the phone at his ear. “I told you to come.”
He signals with his hand to come in, and I step into the room. There are two queen beds, an open suitcase on the chair in the corner, and the suit jacket Maksim was wearing has been thrown on the bed, his shoes at the foot of the bed.
“Paisley just got here. I’ll FaceTime you. Love you.” Aiden hangs up the phone. “Saige says hello.”
I smile. “Tell her hello next time you speak to her.”
He laughs. “That will be in literally five minutes. She used to travel with me, but she had to stay back this time. She’s not happy about it.” He sits on the edge of the bed and puts on his sneakers. “I think she might actually be a little worried.” His smile says he kind of likes the idea of her being jealous. “Hopefully she’ll get used to being with a professional hockey player and not worry all the time.”
“I’m sure she will.” I look around, unsure where to sit.
Aiden laughs. “Maybe you can teach him how to be less of a slob.” He picks up the giant suitcase and dumps it on the floor, waving his hand for me to take a seat. “He’ll be out in a second.”
As he says it, the bathroom door opens. With steam billowing out, Maksim steps out in only a towel as though it’s happening in a dream. A very erotic dream.
“See you two later.”
I blink to get out of my daydream.
Aiden is talking to Maksim, then he turns to me. “See you, Paisley.”
I wave, my vocal cords unable to function. Maksim Petrov is built as though he was carved from granite. My body sighs at the thought of him hovering over me and my fingers itch to know how the ripples of his stomach feel.
“Sorry, but I hate airplanes and I felt like I needed to shower for you.”
“Maybe I should come back.” I stand to leave. This is hardly professional.
“Don’t be silly. I meant to grab my clothes before, I just forgot them.” He comes closer to me.
My breath hitches in my throat when I see droplets of water trickle down his body. My mouth waters, begging me to stick out my tongue and swipe off a few. Just as I think he’s going to corner me in the chair, he bends down, keeping his hand secure on where the sides of the towel come together. He picks up some clothes, then I see his ass in the towel while he walks back to the bathro
om.
“I’ll just be a second.” The bathroom door shuts.
My body slides down the chair from all my muscles turning to mush. How will I ever keep this guy in the client category when I’m on the cusp of begging him to make me come every time he’s around? I’m in deeper than I think.
I smile at my reflection in the mirror, dressing in a T-shirt and shorts. She wants me. I saw her dilated eyes and open mouth. But I have to take this slow because she’s not going to just jump my bones. Something tells me Paisley has the willpower of a saint.
Walking out of the bathroom, I compose myself and sit on the bed, leaning my back against the headboard and stretching my legs out in front of me. She crosses her legs and pulls out a pad of paper.
“Ready to get started?” she asks, her thumbs pressing on the screen of her phone.
“Do you need a drink? You sound parched.” How I’m saying this with a straight face, I have no fucking clue because the pink flush to her cheeks makes me want to lean over that chair and kiss the living shit out of her. Take out that messy bun and see those gorgeous curls fan over her shoulders. I cross my legs, adjusting my half chub.
“No. Thank you.” Her voice cracks, but I don’t offer again. I need to play this casual.
“What do you want to know?”
She skeptically glances at me. “Why are you so eager to get started?”
“Because the faster we get through three of these, the faster you’ll be in my bed.”
She inhales a deep breath. “Maksim.”
“Yeah?”
Just when I think she’s going to give me a talking-to, she taps her pen. “What was your childhood like?”
I guess this is therapy. “It was like any other normal life.”
“What about familial pressure? Did you ever feel like you had no option but to play hockey?”
I lick my bottom lip, trying my damnedest to concentrate. “Only pressure I felt was from myself. Sure, my parents wanted me to play, but…” I don’t finish. For some reason, I forgot the bullshit story I was going to tell her.
She jots a few things on the paper. “And no siblings. What’s that like?”
