by Piper Rayne
“Yeah, it is.”
There’s no way I can tell Aiden I’m not really into Joran. I wasn’t even going to go on our date yesterday, but I knew I had to get behind the scenes and Joran could get me in. After he pushed me at Aiden, he’s not really someone I want to be involved with. I want to be someone’s number one and not so easily cast aside or pushed away. But I have the sense that if I break things off with Joran, Aiden might try a little harder to win me. With my shaky willpower, I’d eventually end up on his back porch like every other puck bunny in history.
“Anyway, let’s go through this,” he says. “As you may or may not know, I own social media accounts in my name, but I do nothing with them. Signing up was a way for me to make sure people knew any accounts posting as me were fake. I hate everything to do with social media, but Maksim said you lost Maverick Sanders as a client?”
I want to bury my head in my hands right now. “Let me just stop you right there. You do not need to be his replacement.”
“Then you’ll travel with me to all my games through the rest of the year for nothing?”
When he puts it that way, he does have a point. He must see something cross my face because he smiles and nods as though he’s right.
He passes the folder across the desk. “These are my usernames and passwords. The only thing I ask is that you keep my family out of it. Don’t friend any of them and don’t mention any of them.”
I accept the folder and open it, seeing a list of his family’s accounts at the bottom. In big bold letters, it says DO NOT CONTACT OR FRIEND. This is obviously serious to him.
My forehead creases and I look up at him. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.”
He sits back and rests his ankle on his knee. “You’re helping me, I’m helping you. I’ll pay you whatever Maverick was, and if you want me to be your spokesperson, done.” He nods toward the brochure on the corner of my desk, Maverick’s face plastered all over it.
I blow out a breath and think about what this means—the kind of involvement we’ll have in each other’s life if I agree to this. But how can I say no when I do need someone big like Aiden Drake on my client list now that Maverick is off?
“I don’t know what to say.” Truly, I don’t. It feels as though this is huge for him. Going from no social media to handing it over to someone he barely knows takes a lot of trust.
“Just say I’ve got a better mug than Maverick.” He winks and stands. “I’m kidding. There’s nothing to say.”
When he’s standing, he feels so tall. I can only imagine what it’s like when he has his skates on. He’s probably like a tree. That thought makes me want to climb him.
“Turn the page and you’ll find your itinerary of planes, hotels, and tickets to all the games. I included two in case you want to bring Tedi with you so the two of you can work. My practice schedule is listed in there. Other than that, I’m at your disposal. All I ask is that you’re there early for each game so I don’t have to chase you down.”
I suck in a deep breath then let it out. “Okay.”
He nods, a small amount of fear lacing through his dark eyes. “Thanks for doing this, Saige. I know it might seem crazy, but I’m desperate to keep this streak going.”
“You’re welcome, and I’ll try to make the social media stuff as painless as I can.”
He laughs and steps back. “There’s nothing painless about social media, but I trust you. See you in Philly.”
Then he turns and walks toward the door. I admire his ass until Tedi barrels through the door and Aiden steps back, only to have her spill her coffee all over him.
“Fuck,” he says, backing up and pulling the shirt off his skin. “That’s hot.”
Tedi looks him over. “I agree.”
Aiden tears off his sweatshirt, then grips the collar of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, leaving him bare-chested in the middle of my office. Holy shit, the man is cut. And he has tattoos from his shoulders to his elbows.
“Is this the new dress code? Because I’m game.” Tedi puts down her cup and pretends like she’s going to undress.
“Tedi,” I say, standing and rounding my desk.
The closer I get to him, the closer I am to licking his chest. Screw chocolate sauce, caffeine-filled abs like his is my new wet dream.
“I’m sorry,” Tedi says, but her eyes can’t stop focusing on the way his jeans are hung low, showing us the treasure trail leading to a place I’m pretty sure neither of us would object to seeing.
“It’s okay.” He waves out the T-shirt, but it’s no use. He tucks it in the back pocket of his jeans, puts his sweatshirt back on, and zips it up.
I’m not sure if it’s Tedi, or me who makes a whining noise now that he’s covered up again.
“Are you sure? I can wash it,” Tedi offers. “Along with my panties now.”
Aiden rolls his eyes and smirks at Tedi. “Don’t tell me you want to work your way through the Fury lineup. Is that on your fuck-it bucket list?”
She gives him an annoyed look and shakes her head in teenage girl fashion. “Tweetie is enough to handle.”
“That’s just because you haven’t had me.” He winks and laughs good-naturedly.
I hate that his occasional arrogance turns me on. But what I hate even more is him flirting with Tedi.
“Okay, Tedi, let Aiden leave.”
Tedi leans forward. “She’s just jealous because she’s got Joran. He probably answers phone calls mid-orgasm.”
I stare at her blankly as she laughs with Aiden. Although she could be right, I have no idea because I have no interest in sleeping with Joran.
“Bye.” I wave to Aiden.
“Thanks again. See you soon.” Aiden walks out of the office.
Once the door is shut behind him, my head falls forward. I envision what I could actually do with a man like that if he was mine. Or even better, what a man like that would do to me.
“Jealousy looks good on you.” Tedi points at me and drops her coffee in the trash can.
“Why would I be jealous?”
“You got all flushed when I flirted with Aiden.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I might as well bite the bullet with Tedi now. “And by the way, we’ll be traveling a little bit.”
“For what?” she asks.
“Because Aiden Drake is our new spokesperson. In exchange, I have to throw white wine on him before every game.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows rise. “You’re serious?”
“I am.” I nod.
“Then can we make a wager?”
“No.”
“Come on. I bet you sleep with the man before this is all over.”
I shake my head. “I can’t sleep with him. He’s a client now.”
She shakes her head. “One day you’ll realize rules are meant to be broken, Saige. Especially when he’s got a body like that.”
I wish I could say I disagree with her.
I arrive in Philly with the team and head straight to the room I’ll be sharing with Maksim. The plane ride wasn’t too bad since we ended up playing the Oh Hell card game, which is the whole reason Ford is ignoring us—even though we’re on the same floor and our rooms are right next to one another’s.
“Rematch, Jacobs?” Maksim eggs Ford on as we head down the hall, towing our suitcases. We all end up outside our rooms, key cards in hand.
Ford waves his card in front of his door and it buzzes. He enters, leaving Tweetie shaking his head at us.
“Thanks a lot, assholes,” Tweetie says. “Now I’m stuck with a pissed-off roommate.”
“He’ll get over it,” I say, and we enter our room after Tweetie flips us off.
Once we’re in our room, I take off my jacket and hang it in the closet before sitting on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes. Maksim, on the other hand, flops face-first on the mattress.
“You’re gonna get wrinkled,” I tell him even though he doesn’t care
. He never does.
He rolls over. “So how are we playing this? The old sock thing?”
I take off my other shoe and lie back on the bed, exhausted after being up all night debating if I made the right decision with Saige. It’s hard to trust that people will do what they say when you’re in the public eye. But if she’s helping me, it’s only right I do the same, especially since she didn’t ask for anything to begin with.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Your girl is in the hotel. It’s cool if you want to get it on. Just let me know. I would be pissed if someone saw my girl naked.”
“Do you have a girl I don’t know about?”
“Hell. No. But if I did, no one would see one inch of her skin.”
“So what? When you find the girl you want to marry, she’s gonna have to wear a sheet over her everywhere she goes?”
He sits up on the bed and toes out of his shoes. They drop to the floor one by one with a thud. “No, I’m just not cool with people seeing what’s mine.”
“Lucky girl,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“You’re dodging.”
“I’m not dodging. First of all, she’s not my girl. Second of all, all I need from her is to throw a drink at me. End of story.”
He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it on the chair across the room. Maksim and I are close in age. We’ve been roommates when we travel since we started with the Fury and he’s my boy, but he’s also the biggest slob I’ve ever met.
“You’re delusional when it comes to her.”
I glance at him, my forearms resting on my thighs. “She’s dating Joran.”
“Since when does Joran date? I swear he parties with us just to get into women’s pants.”
Maksim has a point, but who am I to say which girl can reform a playboy? One day I’m sure there’ll even be a woman who will win Ford over. Saige is awesome. She’d be a game-changer for a lot of guys.
“He’s my agent and he’s done a lot for me.”
Maksim unbuttons his shirt. “Let me get this straight. Joran is wherever he is. You’re here. Saige is here. You’re going to be the go-to guy to keep her company. She’s traveling with us to every city, staying in the same hotel as us, just to throw a drink in your face.”
I nod.
He stands from the bed, his shirt joining his suit jacket haphazardly thrown on the chair. He claps me on the shoulder. “Good luck, man.”
“What does that mean?”
He stops before entering the bathroom. “You don’t have the willpower to resist her.”
The bathroom door shuts, and I sit there for a moment, thinking his words through. Of course the jackass has a point.
Luckily my phone interrupts my spiraling thoughts. Not lucky—it’s the woman in question.
Saige: We’re here. Room 320. Let me know when you need me.
I pretend I’m not thinking dirty thoughts over her choice of phrase. But I have some time to kill before the game and I’d rather spend it with her than listening to Maksim snore. I’m too wired to rest.
Me: Want to go tour Philly?
The three dots appear and disappear, then reappear.
Saige: Sure. I’ll meet you in the lobby in 10?
Me: Perfect.
Maksim comes out of the bathroom wearing only his boxer briefs, throwing the rest of his clothes on the chair.
“I’m heading out,” I say.
“Great.” He slides under the covers on the bed and grabs the remote. “I’m gonna watch some porn and take a nap before the game.”
I’m thankful he doesn’t ask me where I’m going and who I’ll be with. Then again, he knows I usually go out in the cities we travel to. Why would I stay holed up in the hotel when my job allows me to travel the country? Nothing worse than spending time in a city and only seeing the airport, the hotel, and the arena.
I quickly change into jeans and a sweater, grabbing my winter coat since Philly is fucking freezing. My skull hat might keep me from being recognized, so I put it on, and I grab my sunglasses before I’m out the door.
Saige is already downstairs in the lobby, looking over the brochure area for tourists. She’s bundled up in a jacket, scarf, hat, mittens, and boots. She looks adorable and I wish I was the lucky bastard who could peel away those layers until she was naked in front of me.
I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “Hey.”
She jumps. “You scared me.”
“Which would be the point.” I tug one of the braids on either side of her face. “Cute.”
“Well, plane hair sucks and I figure I’ll spray them black and white for team spirit tonight.”
“You trying to get on the Jumbotron?” I mindlessly pick up a brochure about a science museum.
“Never.”
“Oh, come on. The Kiss Cam?”
She knocks her shoulder into mine. “What on earth about me would make you think I’d enjoy kissing someone on camera in front of thousands of people?”
“Some girls dream of that.” I put the brochure back. “Shall we?” I wave my arm for her to follow.
“Well, not this one. Tedi handles that for both of us.”
I laugh as we circle through the rotating doors onto the streets of Philly. It’s just as cold as when I exited the bus a half hour ago. I stuff my hands in my coat pockets.
“What’s up, Wisconsin boy? Too cold for you?” She smiles at me.
“I’m perfectly fine. Remember I skate on ice for a living.”
She grins. “Touché.”
“You’re the one dressed like a blizzard is coming.”
“I have thin blood. Leave me alone.”
I put up my hands. “Noted.”
“So where do you want to go?” she asks.
I shrug.
“Would you mind if we go see the Love sculpture? I know it’s cheesy.”
“Sure. Do you know—”
She pulls out a brochure and I can’t help but smile. She’s fucking adorable.
“Then lead the way,” I say.
We head to the sculpture, our arms brushing one another’s but no other contact besides that. Once we reach it, we wait in line. I’m prepared to snap a picture of her, but the man behind us pushes me to go stand with Saige.
“I’ll take the picture. Give me your phones.” He nudges me forward.
Saige stops mid-stride and looks back at me. I’m sure she doesn’t want me in her picture, but what choice do we have at this point? I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself and be recognized. That would only ruin my afternoon with Saige.
We stand under the sculpture that spells LOVE in big red letters. It feels natural to put my arm around her back, my hand molding to her hip.
“Take your sunglasses off,” the man says.
His wife next to him nods. “You’ll ruin the picture!”
Great, I didn’t realize we were models. Saige giggles and we plaster on smiles, waiting for someone to take the picture. Finally the couple snaps the picture and we step away to take our phones back.
“Would you like us to take one of you two?” I ask the older couple.
They accept, and after all is said and done, Saige and I are about to walk away.
A man with his family calls, “You suck.”
Saige stops walking. “Is he talking to you?”
I nod and usher her away with my hand on the small of her back. “I assume so.”
“You suck, Drake. You’re gonna be eating ice shavings tonight.”
I put my hand in the air to acknowledge that I heard him and continue walking. Saige circles out of my hold to head back toward the man. I turn and grab her elbow nicely, redirecting her the way we were going.
“What? You’re going to let your girlfriend fight your battles? Just like you have Petrov do all your dirty work on the ice?”
I’m not surprised to come in contact with a die-hard fan. I’m in their city. I am a little surprised he’s doing it in front of his kids, but wh
o am I to give parenting advice?
“Why don’t you have some respect?” Saige yells.
I chuckle, pulling her back. “He’s not worth it,” I whisper.
She pulls her arm out of my grip. I glance around and see that we’re causing a crowd to form.
“Hey, I really wanted to go to the art museum and run up the stairs like Rocky.” I try to distract her, but she’s not letting me.
“Aiden’s a damn good hockey player and he’s going to mop the floor with Philly tonight.”
I can’t help but laugh at the fact Saige is sticking up for me. Half of me wants to throw her over my shoulder, and the other half wants to see what else she’s going to say.
“You might be sleeping with him, but trust me, our team is better.” The man steps up.
His wife sends me an apologetic look.
“We’ll see about that,” Saige snarls.
Her comebacks could use some work, but the point is she’s going to battle for my reputation.
“He’s really not worth it.” I tug on her arm.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I wish he could go one-on-one with you, then we’d see what he has to say.” Thankfully, she turns around to join me walking in the other direction.
The man mumbles something, but his wife tells him the kids are there.
Next, we head to the art museum so I can see the stairs Rocky Balboa ran up. At the bottom, we look at one another.
“Want to race?” I ask.
“Um… no.”
I knock her shoulder. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Maybe for a fully conditioned professional athlete.” She points at me. “But not for a once-a-month kickboxer.” She points at herself.
“Kickboxer, huh?”
“Did you catch the once-a-month part?”
I tug on her jacket. “It’ll be fun, come on.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
She situates her purse so it’s crossways over her body. “Fine.”
“One… two… go!” I yell.
We both rush up the stairs. Luckily we’re not the only people reenacting the famous movie scene. Two boys are on the other side of us.
