She wore McKinnon’s jersey, but I don’t bring that up. “If you want to get to McKinnon, you need to be all in. You’ll wear it.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment before I get a tiny nod. “And I want to tell Pippa the plan. She won’t believe it otherwise.”
“You don’t think I can be convincing?” I think about how her waist felt under my hand, how fucking incredible her hair smelled. “We should probably talk about boundaries, in case I go too far. Agree on a safe word and all that.”
Determination and fury flash in her pretty eyes. “I really want to fuck with him.” A beat. “You can’t go too far.”
Jesus Christ, Hartley’s hot when she’s pissed off. I’m half-hard. My eyes drop to her mouth. “No safe word. Got it.”
“Miller.”
“What?” I’m still staring at her mouth.
“This is fake.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get feelings.”
“I won’t.” I wonder if she’d let me kiss her in front of McKinnon.
She dips her head to catch my gaze. “You need to agree to that without staring at my mouth and drooling.”
A laugh slips out of me, and I wink at her. “I wasn’t drooling.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She clears her throat. “Seriously. Don’t get feelings, because I won’t.”
Dangerous. This is so fucking dangerous, playing this game with her. She’s going to get to know me and run screaming in the other direction. That’s the way it works with guys like my dad and me.
Still, I’m sticking my hand out to shake hers, pulse whooshing in my ears.
“It’s just for show.” I love how her eyes flare with something interesting as I step into her space. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”
My hand envelops hers, and my focus narrows to where we touch. Her hand is delicate and soft, fitting right into mine. She’s so pretty and mean and perfect, and this is going to fucking ruin me.
“Oh, Hartley.” I just give her my signature cocky smile. “This is going to be so, so fun.”
CHAPTER 6
HAZEL
Pippa’s already in her seat when I arrive before the game on Friday night. The arena is filled with excited fans, a sea of gray and blue Storm jerseys, and rock music plays, pumping everyone up. My body’s brimming with energy as I make my way to our seats behind the net, holding a pretzel in one hand and a beer in the other.
“Hi.” I drop into my seat. “Sorry that took so long. The line at concessions was ridiculous.”
A lie. I was stalling, circling the arena three times before finally getting in line.
Without a word, Pippa’s gaze goes to my jersey, and her eyebrows lift.
It was sitting on my desk this afternoon inside a gift box. Despite my aversion to wearing a jock’s name on me like I’m his property, Rory’s right. I have to wear his jersey if we want to sell this.
She’s still staring. “You’re wearing a jersey.”
I take a huge bite of my pretzel, choosing my words. It’s going to sound so stupid out loud.
“Hazel.” Now she’s really curious. “Lean forward.”
I swallow my bite. “When do you start working on the next album?”
God, I’m such a chicken. Miller’s name is practically burning on my back.
“Hazel. Whose name is on your back?”
My mouth is dry, and this pretzel tastes like glue. What, am I just going to sit here in this spot until she leaves the stadium?
I move so she can read it. “It’s not what it looks like.”
She blinks slowly. “Am I missing something?”
The lights in the arena dim, and a roar of cheers rises up as the players hit the ice. As he skates past, Rory winks at me, wearing a lazy, smug grin. Connor’s right behind him.
This is it. This is the faking it part. As much as I don’t want to do this, I made a deal, and it’s on me to play the part as much as it’s on Miller.
I give Rory my typical cool smile and wink back. He grins wider and skates off. When Connor does a double take at me sitting here, satisfaction pulses behind my sternum.
Fuck you, Connor.
Pippa sends me confused glances throughout the national anthems, and when we sit, I lower my voice as the players line up for a face-off.
“We’re not actually dating.” I clasp my hands together. This is going to sound so stupid out loud. My stomach lurches at the sight of Connor on the bench, and it all comes spilling out. I tell Pippa about Connor’s email the other morning, how I thought he’d apologize, and then what he actually said.