Chapter 28
Bella
BELLA
holy shit! you’re on fire tonight! doing me proud, Crawford, and earning me immense bragging
rights thank you for your service
e’s about to kiss me.H This drunk buffoon of a man who won’t take no for an answer is about to kiss me. And all I can think about is how disappointed I am it’s not Grayson.
“Camera or not, I’m not kissing you!” I declare for the millionth time. At first, I was being polite, the small buzz of wine making me giggle at the guy, but now I’m not laughing.
The drunk twat’s eyes are so hooded I question if he can see me or not.
“It’s the rules, baby girl. You have to follow the rules,” he slurs.
“No, she doesn’t. Get back before I shove my foot down your throat,”
Cindy growls beside me.
“Rules are rules,” he sing-songs for the millionth time.
His meaty hand comes down on my chair’s arm as he lifts off his and bends all the way over. I make the mistake of trying to shove his chest. His free hand clutches my hand and keeps it in a firm grip. He’s leaning so far
forward I’m surprised he hasn’t toppled into my lap.
Cindy stands behind me as I practically fall across her chair trying to get away.
“Are you going to do anything or just sit there like idiots?” Cindy sneers, no doubt to his other drunk friends.
Other girls and drunk patrons murmur behind me but still no one interferes. Isn’t security watching the screens? How can anyone see this and think I want him to kiss me?
“No means no!” I scoff in his face. “Clearly you never went to fucking school if you don’t know basic English.”
His eyes suddenly take on a hard glint. “Bitch.”
“If I’m such a bitch, stop trying to kiss me,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
He makes a move for me, his other hand cupping my cheek with such force I cry out. “Just shut your fucking mouth and kiss me or I’ll muzzle you
like the —”
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
The sudden jolt from the plexiglass makes us both pause. Him in his pursuit and mine in my retreat.
Grayson stands on the other side, his gloves and helmet off as he heaves wildly, his neck flushed crimson. “Get your fucking hands off her before I break every bone in your body!” he roars.
The drunk above me freezes, his body locking up like it’s made of stone.
I’ve never felt gratitude like I do now.
He smiles. “Crawford! Dude, you’re amazing. That —”
Grayson points a menacing finger at him as he spits through gritted teeth, “Get. The. Fuck. Off. Her.”
Each word is punctuated with steely resolve, matching his hardened eyes.
The blue eyes that usually look at me with such softness.
The drunk wobbles as he pushes himself off me. Huffing and puffing like a child about to throw a tantrum. He throws his hands in the direction of the Jumbotron that is now showing Grayson’s stony face filled with rage. “I was just doing what it told me to.”
“Doesn’t fucking matter. She said no.” He throws his hands in the air too.
“Why the fuck do I have to keep teaching imbeciles like you that lesson? No means fucking no!”
The crowd begins to cheer Grayson’s last name, the buzz of the arena heightening for him despite the scene happening before us.
Cindy snickers beside me. “Figures they get turned on by his anger.”
“Why?”
“They want a fight.”
Grayson now points at someone behind me. “Do your fucking job and kick them out!”
Following his line of sight, I find a sheepish security guard hurrying down the steps. When I turn back to Grayson, his eyes are locked on mine.
Are you okay? he mouths.
Nodding, I mouth back, Pissed off.
I’m not sure why but it makes him smile, the tension from earlier leaving him. Despite how much the fierce protectiveness that was pouring off him turned me on, this is the version of Grayson I look forward to.
The sweet man with kind blue eyes.
The drunk and all his stupid friends start swearing at the security guard, the group making a scene that requires several more guards to rush into the area and pull them up and out of the arena kicking and screaming.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Grayson winks before turning to a camera off to the side and calling out, “She’s mine!” Using his hockey stick, he points directly to me.
Cindy’s hand slaps down on my wrist as she squeals, and all I can do is laugh as Grayson continues to tap the plexiglass with his stick in my direction. “Don’t pan to me, pan to her. I want everyone to know Bella Stratford is my girlfriend!”
The camera suddenly wooshes toward me, my face filling the Jumbotron once again as the crowd coos and awes around me.
It picks up on every microdetail. The flush to my cheeks, my slightly widened eyes, and the smile that I can’t stop from blooming. I shake my head with laughter at Grayson as he stands on the other side of the plexiglass,
looking smug.
“You’re a menace!” I call out.
He winks. “I may be a menace but I’m all yours, Blaze.”
And suddenly, that is the statement that catches in my mind as it screams at me to make it true.
But I can’t…for a plethora of reasons. Ones which I spend the rest of the game reminding myself of.
A chant forms in my mind.
This is all fake.
You are doing this to save your mom.
Men always leave. You can’t trust them.
Except with every chant, there’s a smaller voice rising to the occasion, filling my mind with his sweet words, heated gazes, and most of all, the name he’s suddenly decided to bestow upon me.
Blaze.
indy and I are nestled into a booth at the back of O’Malley’s, giggling our tipsy heads off as we relay the highlight of the night and theC moment that apparently is circulating around the internet.
Layla was right, there was bound to be something that would go viral. I probably have a thousand text messages burning a hole in my pocket from her. I wish she didn’t have to pack tonight and could have been with me to see it all firsthand. Her little romantic heart would have exploded.
Cindy’s blonde hair flares out as she throws her head back on a deep belly laugh. “He claimed you like a caveman.”
“More like a gorilla! Have you ever seen the memes of the gorillas
pointing at their food?”
“No.”
“Well, you don’t need to. Just picture Grayson in a monkey suit and it’s identical.”
“I’ve never seen such a public claiming before.” She fans her face.
“Damn, that was hot. I’m going to ask Asher to do something similar.”
I snicker. “Oh, I bet he’s going to love that.”
“Being compared to another man?” She winks. “Men love that, don’t
they?”
“You’re evil!” I tease.
She shrugs innocently. “I certainly keep him on his toes.”
The bar suddenly fills with loud laughter and cheers, announcing the arrival of the team. Grayson, Asher, and Kieran come into view, the first
locking eyes on me instantly. Asher’s gaze is laser-focused as well, lingering over my shoulder on Cindy who is about to give him hell.
Matteo and Caleb trail behind the trio, lost in conversation and wholly unaware of the females staring at them. Although maybe they aren’t oblivious, just ignoring the attention, because at the last second Matteo turns his gaze on someone.
Asher slides his large frame into the booth with grace, his wet blond hair dripping. A smirk tips up the corner of his lips as he kisses Cindy with abandon.
Everyone is in high spirits from the win. The bar’s energy is palpable tonight, packed to the brim with fans, locals, and of course, Colorado IceHawks players.
Grayson’s grinning from ear to ear as he makes his way toward me.
Until he freezes on the spot, his grin morphing into a frown. “What is that?”
Mirroring his frown, I ask, “What is what?”
His nose scrunches up like he smelled something bad. Pointing to my chest, he says, “That.”
I look down at myself. “A jersey?” I guess. I hope he’s pointing to it and not my body.
His eyes narrow as Matteo and Caleb slide into the booth, bickering back and forth like siblings. Until they fall into silence at Grayson’s look too.
“Whose jersey are you wearing?”
“Oh boy,” Kieran mutters as he steps into view.
Matteo snickers. “I hope it’s mine.”
Grayson cuts a glare in his direction, halting Matteo and Caleb’s deep chuckles.
“Whose jersey number are you wearing?” he repeats.
Now my furrow is turning into a full-blown scowl. “Jersey number?”
Cindy bursts into a fit of giggles, alongside the men seated at the booth.
“Cindy,” Grayson groans.
“Yes?” she says innocently.
“Is this your doing?”
She clicks her tongue. “Nope, this one is solely on Bella.”
I roll my eyes and huff. “Just get on with whatever I’ve done.”
“Stand up.”
“No, I’m not a dog.”
Kieran howls beside Grayson, tears lining his eyes at how hard he laughs.
Grayson steps forward, lowering his head closer to mine. As he does, his cologne brushes along my senses, melting some of the coldness that captured my heart. “Please stand up. I want to see whose jersey you’re wearing.”
“I’m wearing my jersey. I bought it at the stands,” I explain, standing, because I find I can’t tell him no when he speaks so softly.
He opens his mouth to speak, but then his jaw practically unhinges. The table bursts into laughter so loud I hide whatever is on my back by leaning against the booth and locking my eyes on Grayson, somehow feeling as if he’s my safe space in all this despite him starting it.
Kieran slides into the booth where I was seated a second ago with a wink.
“I’m flattered, B, but I think Grayson is better suited.”
My cheeks are flaming. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“How long have you been walking around with that on?” Grayson asks, his voice dangerously low.
Shrugging, I say, “Since the game ended. I got it as a victory jersey.”
Grayson pinches the bridge of his nose as another round of laughter starts up. Inhaling a deep breath, he spins me, placing my back against his front as he wraps his thick arms around my torso. For a moment, my breath catches, the ruckus of the bar fading as Grayson’s warmth seeps into my core.
My heart is hammering wildly as he lowers his mouth to my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my body. “Walk forward for me, Bella,” he whispers.
Swallowing thickly, I do as he says, for once in my life my body listening to someone’s command besides my own. He steers me through the crowd, not getting into conversation with anyone.
As he nears the bar, he calls something over his shoulder and then opens a door that leads to an office. The moment the door closes behind us, we’re plunged into silence, the music and laughter from the bar nothing but a dull thrum, only our heavy breathing filling the air.
I’ve never felt so aware of someone in my life, and yet with Grayson, it’s a constant.
As he takes a step back, my body leans with him until I almost topple over trying to seek his warmth again. His large hands gently rest on the dip of my waist to steady me. But they’re there and gone, and a short while later, I’m stunned by a camera flash. Spinning, I find Grayson holding up his phone with a picture of my back. Showing the name sprawled across my shoulders.
Gasping, my hands smack over my mouth. “No wonder he winked at me!”
Grayson grimaces. “Whoever sold you Kieran’s jersey was trying to fuck with you. Most girlfriends and wives wear the jersey of their partner.”
“And here I am walking around oblivious that your best friend’s name is on my back.”
A small breathy wheeze leaves him, the only warning before Grayson doubles over with laughter. The sound of his deep chuckle has my own smile lifting and a laugh drifting from my mouth.
“He’s never going to let this go, is he?”
“Nope,” Grayson says, popping the p as he wipes tears from the corner of his eyes.
I throw my hands in the air. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I don’t want to go back out there.”
Grayson shakes his head as another chuckle falls from his lips. “It’s fine,
Bella.”
“No, it isn’t!”
“No, it’s not, but it will be fine,” he says.
I’m about to ask how but Grayson’s hands drift to the edge of his shirt a moment before he lifts, pulling the dark gray T-shirt over his head.
Every word that was on the tip of my tongue ceases to exist.
Grayson is standing in the dark office, shirtless, his muscles rippling as he breathes a little faster than before.
My mouth is dry.
My hands are sweating.
And I cannot stop staring at my boss wishing he would do despicable things to me.
“Your turn,” he says gruffly, his voice suddenly thick.
My head snaps away from his chest, but only for a moment. Like a magnet, it pulls me right back.
“My turn for what?” I’m practically drooling.
Maybe I am no better than a dog.
Grayson steps forward, all his muscles invading my space so perfectly I take a deep breath, hoping he doesn’t realize I’m trying to get a whiff of that
tantalizing cologne he wears.
“Take off the jersey, Blaze.”
The roughness of his voice, the command—it’s nothing like the soft-
spoken, blushing man I’ve seen the past few weeks, but God does my body respond to the deep timbre of his demand. And that name again. What is it about that damn name that makes my stomach flip?
Without a thought, I’m pulling the jersey over my head, and for a moment I catch a glimpse of disappointment in Grayson’s gaze as he finds I kept my
long undershirt on beneath the jersey.
Does he want to see me shirtless?
My mind stops working entirely.
Does he find me attractive?
Shaking my head, I stop the train of thought. Of course he doesn’t, we are in an agreement, an agreement in which we have to be a united front and I’ve ruined that tonight by wearing Kieran’s jersey.
This is fake.
The electricity humming beneath my skin and the warmth flooding my belly and the urge to kiss him is entirely one-sided.
But what about the moment in the kitchen? a tiny voice pops up to ask.
It’s replaced by another one, one that sends a bucket of ice over my head.
He will leave when this agreement ends.
I stomp on that thought as I hand him the jersey. He tries to give me his shirt in return but I shake my head. “I can just wear my undershirt.”
Grayson frowns at my sudden retreat, and no doubt at the slight coldness in my voice. “You’ll freeze,” he points out.
“It’s a stuffed bar. I’ll be fine.”
I go to move past him, but an arm shoots out, stopping me. Then hands me a balled-up gray T-shirt. “Take the shirt, Bella.”
Slowly turning my head to him, I’m foolish enough to lock my gaze on his blue eyes.
He pushes it into my hands as he pleads softly, “Please put the shirt on,
Bella.”
“What are you going to wear?”
His lip twitches. “Worried people will look?”
Scoffing, I still refuse to wrap my fingers around the shirt. “You’re a famous hockey player. They’ll look regardless.”
His brow quirks. “Jealous?”
“Of course not. I’m just trying to save you from a headline.”
He drops his head an inch from my lips. “Blaze, we’re already a headline after tonight.”
The kiss cam.
Lifting my chin, I purr, “Then let’s not make it two.”
His eyes narrow.
“Hey!”
He quickly snatches the jersey out of my hand, and before I have time to get it back, he’s placing it over his head and grinning. “Done, no tabloid.” He straightens. “Now put my shirt on, Bella, or I’ll do it for you.”
“Since when were you so bossy?” I grumble, but all the while, a thrill shoots through me, secretly loving the way he’s commanding me.
It’s…refreshing, to not be the one in control.
And sweet baby Jesus am I glad he commanded me. His T-shirt smells like him. It’s oversized, practically swimming on my short frame, and it’s like being cocooned in his warmth.
But he doesn’t need to know how much I love it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I nod at the jersey that barely fits his large, muscular frame. “A bit tight, love,” I say with a shit-eating grin.
Teasing the hockey player who’s blocking my only exit isn’t smart, but I can’t help myself. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to leave this little bubble we’ve found ourselves in.
Grayson stares me down. Something shifts in his gaze, something that makes me want to smash my thighs together.
“What?” I snap, my tolerance for how long I can fend off his attractiveness wavering.
He shrugs, his blossoming smile so beautiful I wish I could take a photo of him. “Nothing. You just look good in my clothes.”
“Well don’t get used to it,” I say over my shoulder as I hip check him, trying to get him to move away from the door.
He doesn’t budge. Instead, he traps me against the door, placing a hand on either side of my head.
“What are you doing, Grayson?” I ask, trying to keep my emotions in check, yet the rasp no doubt gives me away.
“Turn around.”
My body stiffens as I do everything in my power not to turn around.
He drops his head, his lips brushing against my ear. “Please,” he says
softly.
God damn him.
Sighing, I put up a mask of indifference as I turn, into the awaiting cage
of Grayson’s arms. His eyes are soft and inquisitive as they flick back and forth between mine. He’s looking for something, what that is I’m unsure of, and I don’t think I want to know.
“If it wasn’t clear before that we’re dating, it certainly is now after tonight. It’s all anyone is talking about. But…”
“But?”
He swallows thickly, his eyes dropping down to my lips and staying there. “No one has seen us kiss,” he whispers.
My heart simply stops. “That’s a problem.”
“It is.”
Licking my lips, Grayson tracks the movement, his head leaning forward slightly.
“How could anyone believe we’re dating if we don’t kiss? They see me touch you, they know I’m an affectionate guy, and yet we still haven’t kissed.”
The tension between us is like a living, breathing thing, burning with such need it’s screaming at us to do something to relieve it.
I lift my chin, the words rolling off my tongue. “Then we certainly need to fix that.”
“I think we should practice first,” he says gruffly, his voice so deep my toes curl.
“I agree,” I breath. “We don’t want to stumble around awkwardly —”
“They’ll know it’s our first time,” he cuts in.
“Precisely.”
His eyes grow hooded. “We can’t have that.”
“No, not at all,” I practically purr.
His breathing has grown labored, and his eyes haven’t left my lips this
entire time.
“Should we practice now?” he asks.
“Ye—”
I don’t finish the word before Grayson’s lips are smashing against mine.
