Page 89 of What About Us

“What the hell?”

“Try again.”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re not going to blackmail me with affection just so I tell you what you want to hear, Xander Theodore Hendrix.”

I blink at her. “That’s not my middle name.”

“I said what I said.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and I can’t resist her, so I close the space between us, tip her chin up, and kiss her lightly.

“Fine. But you’re going to tell me soon, Red.”

She grins and leans into me. “Maybe.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

IVY

I’m going to throw up.

“You know, sending reports all of the time to your team of doctors and the coaches is one thing,” I say as I brush out my hair. I’m in the primary bathroom in Xander’s gorgeous Denver penthouse. We just arrived this morning on an early flight, and I barely had time to ogle this place before he hit me with the news that we’re going to meet with everyone.

Today.

Now.

“But having to sit down in a room with them? Jesus, that’s intimidating as fuck, Xander.”

He moves up behind me and takes the brush from my hand. “You’re seriously taking your anxiety out on your hair, baby, and I can’t have you do that. I love it too much. Let me brush it.”

He gently runs the bristles through the ends, and I stare at him. Xander always looks so composed. So confident.

So fucking hot.

“I know that you don’t have to be nervous. You know these people.”

He lifts an eyebrow and meets my gaze in the mirror. “You’re kidding right? What if I don’t pass whatever crazy test they decide to throw at me today? What if they’re not satisfied with my progress? They can make my life a living hell if they decide to. Or cut me loose from the team. Anything’s possible, Red.”

“Uh, no. Absolutely not. Because you’ve been working your ass off, and in just the few weeks, less than a full month, since we’ve been working together, the progress has been incredible. You no longer need the brace. Sure, you have moments when you need to ice, but that’s normal. If they say even one shitty thing today, I’ll⁠—”

“Whoa.” He grins and leans in to press his lips to the top of my head. He’s so tall—or I’m so short—that when he stands behind me like this, I only reach his collarbones.

And I kind of love it.

“I appreciate your fiery enthusiasm.” He uses his hand to brush my hair over my shoulder and then kisses his way down my neck. “It’s hot as fuck, wildcat.”

“Oh God. You can’t do that to me in front of those people.” I push him back and spin so I can look up at him as anxiety settles in my stomach and feels like it’s on steroids. “If they find out that we’re a we, they’ll think I’m a puck bunny, and that I’m not serious about my job, and . . . oh God. Oh God.”

“You’ve said that a few times.”

“We have to keep this a secret. We can’t tell anyone. We’ll just say that you brought me along because we’re friends. Yeah, friends. I mean, we grew up in the same town, so that’s plausible.”

My heartbeat hammers in my ears, and I can’t catch my breath, and then Xander’s hands are on my cheeks and he’s forcing me to look up at him. His green eyes are full of concern, and it makes my chin wobble.

“Okay, this is going to stop now. You’re not a motherfucking secret, do you hear me? Absolutely not. We’re both adults, and we’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Ethically—”

“Fuck that. No, Ivy. Am I going to make out with you in front of my coaches and doctors? Of course not. But I’m also not going to simply say that you’re my friend. I fucking dare any one of them to call you a puck bunny or anything close to it, because they won’t have to release me from the team, I’ll fucking quit.”