Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Valentina
The Art of Kissing Away Anxiety
I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun with anyone.
Kaden showed me a side of himself I’m sure no one in the media ever gets to see. If they did, it might paint him in a completely different light. The grumpy, no-nonsense Kaden Crawford turns into someone else entirely when he’s with his family. A guy who laughs. A guy who competes with just the right amount of fire. A guy who lets loose.
All that warmth and joy evaporates the minute we board the helicopter to head home. Reality hits hard when I check my phone. The media’s all over Kaden’s public breakup—and me.
They’re speculating, of course. Was the breakup because of us? Is he a cheater?
Fuck. That’s not going to fly.
Thankfully, the few pictures his family allowed me to take have already been sent to Kimmy. She’ll use them to spin the narrative. I’m the girlfriend, the real deal. Brittany? Just someone who got too attached and misread the situation. We’re not trying to villainize her—she did enough of that herself—but we’re not coming to her defense, either.
“So, now you’re my side piece,” Kaden says, settling beside me and adjusting his headphones.
“Don’t count us out just yet, Crawford.” I wink at him instinctively, then immediately cringe. What the hell am I doing? When did we get on such good terms? I’d never wink at anyone else I worked with. I’ve spent years building my professional reputation, making sure people take me seriously. And now? I’m winking at one of hockey’s most eligible bachelors like I’m auditioning for a reality show—or maybe a romantic movie.
“So, what’s the next part of the plan?” Kaden leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Kimmy’s using the pictures we took at your parents’ place,” I explain. “Then, we’re letting the media ‘accidentally’ see us out together.” I use finger quotes, because nothing is ever accidental in this business.
As the helicopter blades start whirring and we prepare for takeoff, my anxiety creeps in, climbing like a relentless tide. The second we lift off the ground, my body locks up, every muscle tense. My hands clamp down on the armrests so tightly my knuckles turn white.
“You need a drink? We can turn back,” Kaden offers, his voice more gentle than I expect.
“No, I’m fine,” I bite out, my words clipped. I’m not trying to be short with him, but my brain is already spiraling at the thought of being tossed into the air in a tin can.
“Hey.” His voice cuts through the haze, and his hand grabs mine. His fingers lace through mine with surprising ease, and the warmth of his touch pulls me back, grounding me. “You’re going to be fine. I’m right here with you, okay? Just look at me.”
I force myself to meet his gaze, his dark brown eyes holding mine with a quiet intensity that draws me back to the moment.
“Uh-huh,” I whimper, gripping his hand like it’s the only thing keeping me from losing it completely.
“I’m here, Valentina. I’m right here,” he whispers, his tone firm but soothing, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin.
The helicopter tilts upward, and the air shifts. I shut my eyes tightly, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Okay, okay, okay—oh shit.” I squeal as we lift off, my terror bursting out of me in a high-pitched yelp.
It’s over in seconds. The jarring sensation passes, but my breath hasn’t caught up yet, my pulse still racing like I’m free-falling.
Before I can even process it, Kaden’s hand cups the back of my neck, his lips crashing down onto mine. The kiss is hard, unrelenting, like he’s pouring every ounce of certainty into me. His mouth moves against mine with purpose, coaxing me out of my spiraling thoughts.
It’s like a shock to my system. My fingers curl instinctively into his shirt, holding on to him like he’s the only thing keeping me from floating away. His kiss deepens, his tongue sweeping against mine in a way that leaves me breathless, weightless, and completely undone.
Every nerve in my body ignites, and I don’t just feel the kiss—I experience it. The heat of his lips, the press of his hand, the raw intensity of the moment—it’s all-consuming.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, and I’m gasping for air, my lips tingling, my brain short-circuiting.
“See?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Told you you’d be fine.”
I blink at him, completely disoriented but also . . . totally aware of every inch of him. My grip on his shirt loosens, but my heart is still pounding, and I have no idea if it’s from the flight or from that kiss.
I can’t find the words to respond, so I settle for a breathless nod, and he smirks, leaning back in his seat like kissing me senseless was the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe—for him—it was. Though, I’m beginning to wonder how no one can see this man isn’t the cold bastard he portrays? Sure, before I today, I would have sided with the media in saying he was a heartless jock, but after only a few days with him, I can see that’s not the case.
“You okay?” he asks once I’ve had a few seconds to catch my breath.
“Yeah. Thanks. Sorry,” I mumble, trying to pull my hand away.
He holds it tighter, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. “Leave it. Who knows, we might hit some turbulence or something.”
He shrugs casually, then settles back, crossing his legs at the ankles and closing his eyes like he’s about to fall asleep.
There are a million and one things I should be doing right now—emails to check, headlines to spin—but all I can focus on is how warm his hand feels in mine. I should let it go, but I don’t.
“If this is what you do during a helicopter ride,” I mutter, half to myself, “I don’t want to think about what you’d do on a long plane ride.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “If this was a private jet, I’d just take you to the bedroom and fuck you senseless.”
“You only think of sex.”
“Only when you’re around,” he murmurs, dipping his head toward my neck. His lips brush against my skin, warm and teasing, and I swear his movement nudges my headphones slightly. The soft graze of his mouth sends a shiver racing down my spine.
“Only me, huh?” I tilt my head, giving him a skeptical look, even though my body betrays me, reacting to the warmth of his touch. “That must be a great line to use on women. We all know about your reputation before you moved to Boston and started hooking up with Brittany.”
“In theory, we hooked up,” he says, his voice suddenly defensive. “In practice, I just let everyone think there’s something between us, but never happened.”
His words catch me off guard, and I pull back slightly to study his face. There’s something in his tone—an edge, maybe a hint of irritation—that makes me believe him.
“Never?” I echo, raising an eyebrow.
“Never,” he repeats, his jaw tightening. “I was going to ditch her, but everyone thought she’d be a good thing to keep around. Someone that would let people know I had changed.”
The shift in his demeanor surprises me. It’s not the cocky, flirtatious Kaden I’m used to—it’s something else. Something almost . . . honest.
For a moment, I’m tempted to press further, to ask why he feels the need to defend himself to me of all people. But I let it drop, turning my gaze back to the window and pretending the flush on my cheeks is from the altitude and not from the way his lips felt against my neck.
“Sure,” I mutter, more to myself than him. “That must’ve been one hell of a hookup.”
His laugh is low and rough, vibrating through the air between us. “Jealous, Valentina?”
“Of you or her?” I shoot back, forcing myself to sound unaffected.
“Either,” he says. “But for the record, there’s no competition.”
I roll my eyes, but my hand stays firmly in his, as if I’m incapable of letting go.
“I meant it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that gravelly rasp that slides down my spine and pools low in my stomach. “Whenever you give me the green light, I’ll be more than happy to give you a real hell of a hookup. Picture it—my mouth on your cunt, licking you until you’re begging me to stop because it’s too much. I’ll give you orgasms so intense, you’ll forget your own fucking name. And when I’m finally satisfied? That’s when I’ll fuck you senseless. Hard. Deep. Until the only thing you can think about is how fucking good it feels to have me inside you. All you’ll want after that is more. More of me. More of this.”
My breath hitches, but I force my expression to stay neutral, pretending his words don’t affect me. Pretending I don’t already feel the ache he’s describing, that I don’t want him to take me apart right here, right now.
“You think too much of yourself,” I say, my voice steady despite the heat rising in my cheeks.
His grin widens, a knowing glint in his dark eyes as he leans closer, his breath teasing the shell of my ear. “Do I? Or are you thinking about it right now? About how good it would feel to let go. To let me make you come again and again until you can’t take it anymore.”
My lips part, but no words come out. My thighs press together involuntarily, and I pray he doesn’t notice the way my pulse is racing—or the way my body is betraying me so completely.
“Not ready to admit it yet, huh?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear like a promise that sets my nerves alight. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got all the time in the world to make you see what you’re missing.”
I hate him. I hate how smug he sounds, like he already knows exactly how I’m going to unravel for him. But even more than that, I hate how badly I want to let it happen, to find out if he’s as devastating as he feels right now. Every word, every touch—he’s a challenge I don’t know if I want to resist.