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I make my way through the throng of people to the area allocated for the Philly Flyers. There’s a good chance that at least one of them hurt themselves while on the ice and needs a massage. Then, after I am done, I will go back to my apartmentand continue to work on my plan to stop my father’s matchmaking.
Which, I’ve got to admit, is not going that well.
It has been two weeks since I overheard him and Andy Furman. In those fourteen days, I dealt with the hurt of him going behind my back to arrange this kind of match. As if my feelings and wants do not matter at all.
Although I tried hard to come up with a plan that would spoil their deal, I drew a blank. My dad has not breathed a word about it to me. If he had broached the topic, maybe I could have formed some sort of idea on how to deflect.
It’s not surprising that he hasn’t. My father is skilled at getting people to do what he wants. He even managed to make a shrewd billionaire like Andy Furman dance to his fiddle. And every seasoned manipulator knows that most of the work is patience, waiting for the right time, and then pouncing when the tide turned your way.
He is waiting for that right moment. And I don’t even know when that is.
“Why on Earth do you look so happy?”
I look up into the sweaty face of my brother. I didn’t notice him break away from his jubilating team and make his way over to me.
“No reason,” I deflect. Blake is easily my favorite human in the world, and the only one I shrug off my mask for, at least every once in a while. Though I’m certain he wouldn’t be too happy if he heard that the crowd giving his best friend a hard time had amused me.
Still, he seems to read my thoughts. “You know, Alex doesn’t deserve this.”
I would love to go into a full diatribe about how his best friend deserves every bit of what happened out there. But instead, I clamp my lips and shrug. Being myself, even around my brother, has its limits.
Blake nods, similarly satisfied with my lack of reaction. He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He wants to talk to you.”
My heart thumps in my chest like a caged animal. This must be it. My dad is ready to drop the bomb. And while I’ve mulled over several speeches in my head over the past few days, nothing seems quite fitting.
“I’ll go see him then.” I sigh. “Is he in his office?”
Blake’s brows scrunch up. “Who? Dad?” He snorts. “No, I’m actually talking about . . .” He shifts his weight again. “Actually, Alex.”
My eyes widen. Alex and I have no business talking to each other.
Goosebumps spread over my limbs. There was only one bit of . . . unfinished business.
One that involves a massage bed and a hastily tied towel.
Did that jerk actually send my brother to ask me to give him a massage, after what happened the last time? What is he expecting? That I might let him go a little farther this time?
But a part of me is looking forward to seeing him, even if all I get to do is touch that body again.
“He pulled a muscle?”
“No, it’s not about a massage,” Blake mumbles, avoiding my inquisitive eyes. “It’s actually . . . something more personal.”
If it were anybody but my brother delivering this message, I would be sure Alex was calling me over to try to fuck me. But even Alex is not that brazen. It is something else, something that makes even my brother uncomfortable.
“You might think it’s a little weird, but it’s only going to be a couple of months. Come on, you’ll find out soon.”
I open my mouth to ask him what he’s talking about, but Blake takes my hand and leads me around the stands, awayfrom the fans, and to a clear, deserted place where a lone figure is standing, his face half concealed by shadows.
Alex.
It’s impossible to ignore the surge of attraction that wells up inside me. I hate this guy, I remind myself. And even though I’m slightly curious about whatever this is, I’m still going to say no.
Alex’s sweaty hair is plastered to his forehead. Now that he’s removed his helmet, I’m almost frightened by the unbridled rage sparkling in his eyes. He’s sculpted perfection, the sight of him causing a steady pulse between my thighs. He’s both terrifying and swoon worthy.
For the first time since this whole affair started, my pleasure at his downfall ebbs. This isn’t just fun and games anymore. Alex could lose his whole career.
And I’m caught in the gray area between hate and unbridled desire.
