If You Give a CEO a Chance (Aspen Grove #3)

Chapter 6

I ’m on the elevator headed up to my apartment after an early morning workout with the Mavericks hockey team. After pushing through a grueling leg workout and a three-mile run, sweat clings to my skin, and I can’t wait to hop in the shower.

Aleksandr: Solid workout, old man, but I out-lifted you.

Harrison: Don’t get cocky, I still own you at the mile.

Aleksandr: Enjoy it while it lasts.

Harrison: Tell you what. Beat me, and I’ll teach you that faceoff trick you’ve been pestering me about.

Aleksandr: Game on.

He’s the team captain, and he reminds me of myself when I was his age. Cocky, ambitious, and hungry for success, no matter the cost.

When I retired from playing professionally, I missed the thrill of competition and doing something I was passionate about. To offset the loss, I started practicing with the Mavericks, a pro team in New York, hoping to feel that competitive edge again. When the opportunity came up to invest as a part owner, I jumped at the chance. It meant more responsibilities, but I couldn’t pass up being part of something important to me.

Despite my jam-packed schedule, I train with the team four days a week and workout in my apartment building’s gym on the other days. I’m not as nimble as I used to be, and my time spent with the team pushes my limits. The majority are at least ten years younger, a fact they’re quick to remind me of, but I welcome the challenge that comes with it.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve especially needed an outlet to release my frustrations. Work has been kicking my ass—between preparing end-of-year financials, dealing with unexpected zoning laws for a project we have in Houston, Texas, and managing day-to-day operations, I’ve had my hands full.

Not to mention the peace I once felt at home has been replaced with a simmering frustration.

There was a reason I was avoiding Fallon. Every interaction is a sparring match that leaves me equally frustrated and conflicted.

When I get to my apartment, I head straight for my room. I tug off my shirt and toss it in the clothes hamper in the corner. I’m halfway to the bathroom when I pause, spinning around to look at my bed.

My eyes widen when I register that the entire thing is covered in fuzzy pink and purple throw pillows. There must be at least fifty, and not a single inch of the mattress is visible under the pile of fluff.

Fallon.

In the past two weeks since she’s been here, I’ve lost control of my own space. The house smells like vanilla and orange, plants have overtaken my living room, and now she’s pulling stunts like staging a throw pillow blitz. In my bedroom no less, which I explicitly told her was off-limits.

If she were anyone else, I wouldn’t think twice about firing her. Not after our conversation last night.

You brought this on yourself.

Apparently, my conscience has decided to make an appearance, conveniently forgetting why I’m distant with Fallon in the first place. It’s not fair that she gets a free pass when she made the choice to move on without an apology or offering an explanation. Not that I want to hear her excuses anyway.

When I get to the kitchen to confront her, I come to a standstill when I find her hovering in front of the oven, taking out a loaf of bread. The lime-green tank top and boy shorts she’s wearing leave little to the imagination, and I take in every inch of her as my gaze lingers on her curves.

Where are the rest of her clothes?

Come to think of it, why is it so warm in here?

Fallon tugs her lip between her teeth as she sets the pan on the stovetop and bends down to study it. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, exposing the smooth slope of her collarbone, and an unwanted image flashes in my mind of me pinning her against the counter, wrapping my fingers around her delicate neck, my fingers digging into her soft skin as I kiss her soft lips.

Her voice snaps me out of my daydream. “The edges are too crispy,” she mutters, still unaware of my presence. “I’ll have to lower the oven temperature by ten degrees to avoid that next time.”

I watch as she leans over the counter to write in a notebook, crossing out a line, then pauses, tapping the pen against her mouth in thought. Much to my annoyance, I can’t help but notice how stunning she is. The light shining from thekitchen windows, illuminating her features, only adds to her beauty. After a beat, she scribblessomething in the margin, her hand moving quickly as if racing against time.

“Plotting the perfect recipe for world domination?” I ask, breaking the silence.

Fallon jumps, letting out a startled shriek as she spins around to face me. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she huffs.

“I’ll be sure to make a formal announcement next time,” I reply flatly.

She rolls her eyes. “Funny, for someone who keeps on insisting on space, you sure seem to be in my kitchen a lot.”

I scoff. “ Your kitchen? Didn’t realize I needed a permission slip to walk freely in my own apartment.” I take a step toward her, lowering my voice. “Maybe you should worry more about staying out of my bedroom. Didn’t I say it was off-limits?”

She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, now that you mentioned it, I guess you did. It must’ve slipped my mind.” She shrugs.

Why this little troublemaker.

“And you thought it was a good idea to ignore my request?”

“To be fair, I was looking for the thermostat earlier because my hands were freezing. Luckily, I found it hidden behind the floral painting in the hallway,” she explains with a sly smile. “I was browsing the settings when I found a ‘usage’ option. It turns out someone has been manually turning the heat down since the day after I arrived. Any idea how that happened?” There’s an accusing note in her tone.

“No idea.” I shrug, biting the inside of my cheek to refrain from smirking. “That still doesn’t explain how all those frilly pillows ended up on my bed,” I reply, steering the conversation away from her earlier question.

She closes the remaining distance between us, her chest flush with mine, her fierce gaze unrelenting. “While I was searching for the thermostat, I walked into your room since the door was open. I couldn’t help but notice how bare it was, and in my cold haze, I remembered how much you loved the ones in the living room and must’ve gone overboard and ordered a bunch for your bed. Guess that’s what happens when the temperature drops. Whoever messed with the thermostat should remember that next time they try to freeze me out.”

“You enjoy testing my limits, don’t you?” My voice drops.

“A harmless prank gets under your skin that easily, Harrison?” she taunts.

I suppress a chuckle. “If that’s what you call a prank, you’re in serious need of a crash course in execution.”

“Think you can do better, hotshot?”

“I know I can.”

“Do your worst.” She grins.

Little does she know that my brothers and I were pranksters when we were teenagers. She’s up against an expert, but who am I to spoil the surprise? Let her think she has the upper hand for now.

I’m feeling pretty smug until I realize Fallon is staring at my bare chest, her mouth slightly open. When I look down, I remember that I came in here wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.

I’m ready for Fallon to make a snarky comment when I see that her cheeks are flushed, and she’s studying me with those brilliant blue eyes. I can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking about that night we spent together ten years ago when she ran her nails across my abs as I kissed her senseless.

My lips curve into a sardonic smile. Even with annoyance simmering beneath the surface, there’s a thrill from knowing that she’s enjoying the view.

“Taking a second look at what you missed out on?” I ask with a hint of amusement.

She turns her focus to my face, her eyes growing dark. “God, no. I was just thinking about how I dodged a bullet. You’re not nearly as impressive as you think,” she deadpans.

I take several steps forward so I’m standing next to her.

“You’re right. I’m not trying to impress you. It just comes naturally.” I smirk.

Riling her up is quickly becoming my favorite pastime. She’s the one who walked into the lion’s den without a hint of self-preservation.

Fallon shakes her head. “You’re so full of yourself.”

I lean in closer. “We both know I can back it up,” I whisper, my breath brushing her ear.

Her breath catches as she watches me closely, as if trying to anticipate my next move.

Her reaction speaks volumes.

An intrusive thought flashes through my mind of what it might be like to kiss her again. I can almost taste her, the way her breath would mingle with mine, her velvet lips molded against mine as she melts into me, pressing herself closer.

As soon as I shut the door to my hotel room, my hands find Elizabeth’s waist, tugging her against my chest.

“I’ve been counting down the minutes until we were alone,” I murmur.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me already,” she demands with a wry smile.

“God, I love that sassy mouth of yours.” I trail kisses along her jaw, my tongue teasing the seam of her mouth, edging her to surrender. The warmth of her mouth is intoxicating, and the soft moan that passes her lips has my heart racing with a heady mix of recklessness and desire.

I lift her into my arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist and her arms around my neck. She’s fucking intoxicating and I can’t get enough. I grind my cock against her core, her heat searing through the fabric between us, and she leans into me in response. Our mingled moans fill the air as I greedily explore her mouth with fervor.

Damn, this woman is a temptation I’m unable to resist. I already know that one night with her isn’t going to be enough, and I’m plotting how I can get her to agree to spend the entire weekend with me.

Goddammit.

I blink rapidly, turning away for a moment to adjust myself before clearing my throat.

“I’m leaving for the office soon. Make sure my breakfast is ready in ten. Oh, and, Fallon?”

“Yeah?”

“You better sleep with one eye open. You wanted a prank war and you’re about to get one.”

She smirks. “It’s on.”

I leave the room, massaging my temples. Despite my best efforts to keep Fallon at arm’s length, it’s proving to be difficult. If I don’t get a grip on my mind, it’ll lead me down the same path it did before. I let my guard down for her once, and it left me with nothing but unanswered questions and lingering bitterness. So why do I know her beautiful face will haunt me when I close my eyes tonight?

Once I’m back in my room, I fire off a text to Cash, asking for backup.

Harrison: I need your expertise, but you can’t ask questions.

Cash: I’m intrigued. What’s up, big brother?

Harrison: Got any solid prank ideas up your sleeves?

Cash: You’ve definitely come to the right guy.

Cash: I’ll shoot over some ideas after my next meeting.

Harrison: Great, thanks.

Cash: Do I want to know what this is for?

Harrison: No questions, remember?

Although neither Fallon nor I seem to be happy about the living arrangement, I plan to make the most of it. I may not have total control over my thoughts where she’s concerned, but I’m playing the long game —and I never lose.