Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Kaden
When You’re All In (Whether She Is or Not)
I’m already pacing my kitchen when the doorbell rings, my nerves a live wire buzzing under my skin. It’s been a long fucking day, and this conversation with Valentina can’t wait.
I glance at the mug on the counter—green tea with a splash of honey. Her favorite. I’d texted Jacob earlier, asking for advice, and somehow his wife got involved. Between the two of them, they came up with the tea idea, calling it a peace offering. I’m not sure if it’s enough, but I need her to know I’m not entirely the asshole she thinks I am. At least, not all the time.
Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I head for the door. My stomach twists weirdly, but I ignore it, determined to face whatever storm Valentina’s bringing with her.
The second I open the door, the air feels different—charged. She’s standing there, looking so fucking beautiful it steals the breath from my lungs. Her hair’s loose, falling around her shoulders, and her makeup is just enough to highlight her features. She’s wearing this coat that cinches at the waist, hugging her curves, and for a moment, I forget why she’s angry with me.
Then I catch the look in her eyes—sharp, guarded, and definitely not happy to see me.
“You’re still mad, I assume,” I say, leaning one arm on the doorframe, trying to keep my tone light.
“Why would I be mad, Kaden?” she replies, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s not like I was fired just for trying to get you some good press.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation, brushing past me with enough force to make her point. “Oh wait, yes, I was.”
I sigh, shutting the door behind her. “You’re not going to let me off easy, are you?”
She spins around, arms crossed. “Should I? Because honestly, I can just leave and save you the trouble of pretending to give a fuck. Me personally, I’m out of fucks. Each time I try to restart my life everything goes to hell.”
“Valentina,” I start, running a hand through my hair, “can you just sit down for a second? I made you tea. Let me talk and if what I say isn’t enough I’ll disappear from your life—and make sure you get a job that you love.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she follows me to the kitchen, her heels clicking against the hardwood floors. I set the steaming mug in front of her as she perches on one of the stools at the island.
“Green tea,” I say, sliding the honey across the counter. “The way you like it.”
She blinks, caught off guard for a second, before narrowing her eyes. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“Not trying to change anything,” I reply, sitting across from her. “Just trying to apologize.”
Her hands wrap around the mug, but she doesn’t take a sip. “Go on, then. Apologize.”
I take a deep breath, the words heavier than they should be. “Look, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said what I did at the rink. I was out of line, and it wasn’t fair to you. That wasn’t your fault, and I know that. I—” I pause, struggling to get the next words out. “I want to hire you.”
Her mouth falls open slightly before she catches herself and straightens in her seat. “Excuse me?”
“I’m saying I was wrong,” I clarify, the corners of my mouth twitching despite myself. “You’re good at what you do, Valentina. And honestly, I need you. You, not the PR firm, just you.”
She stares at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she exhales, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, well,” I mutter, scratching the back of my neck, “don’t get used to it.”
Her lips twitch, like she’s fighting a smile, but she still doesn’t drink the tea. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning forward on my elbows. “But if you want, I could be your piece of work.”
That gets a reaction—a soft snort of laughter she quickly covers with a sip from her mug. But it’s enough to tell me I’ve got a shot at fixing this. Maybe.
“Okay . . .” She drags the word out, her gaze narrowing on me. “Why? I mean, why all of a sudden are you going back on your word?”
“My life is a fucking mess,” I admit, letting out a sigh and dragging a hand down my face. “I got into it again with Linus on the ice. None of the team will talk to me, and now my coach is telling me if I don’t get my shit together, I could be off the team next year.”
I glance at Valentina, bracing for her reaction. I expect her to sympathize, to champion me like she always does. What I get instead makes me want to flip the fucking table.
She’s staring at me like I just told her the weather forecast.
“What the hell kind of look is that?”
“What do you want me to look like, Kaden?” she retorts, calm as ever. “It’s not like you’re saying anything I didn’t see coming. Honestly, I’m surprised your coach hasn’t already benched you. You create a hostile work environment.” She shrugs, and it’s like a match to a gasoline-soaked pile of my patience.
Hostile work environment? Like I’m the only one responsible for the dumpster fire that is this team?
“Like hell I’m creating a hostile work environment,” I fire back, leaning toward her. “All I do is push my team to be the best they can be. It was fine when we were winning, but now that we’re struggling, suddenly I’m the bad guy?”
“This—” she gestures toward me, eyes blazing—“is exactly what I’m talking about, Kaden. Not everything is about you. Don’t you think Linus already knows he’s playing like shit? Don’t you think your team realizes they’re falling behind in the standings? You think they need you constantly in their faces about it?”
Her words hit like a sucker punch. I gape at her, scrambling for a comeback, but nothing sticks.
“I don’t need this,” I bark, standing abruptly and looming over her. “If I wanted someone else to beat me down, I’d have stayed at practice. You’re supposed to be helping me. Isn’t that your fucking job?”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. Instead, she tilts her head and calmly meets my glare. “I am helping you, Kaden. You just have to be willing to accept it.”
Her voice is maddeningly even, and then she shrugs, like this is the simplest thing in the world. “I’m not here to sugarcoat anything. If you want me to work with you, you’ll have to act like a decent human being. Not this half-assed, brooding asshole that everyone hates. If you’re not going to work on that, you’re wasting my time.”
Her words hit harder than I expect, and for a moment, I just stare at her. My jaw clenches so tightly it aches.
Finally, I exhale through my nose and let my shoulders drop. “Fine,” I grumble. “We’ll do it your way.”
Her brows shoot up, like she’s surprised I conceded.
“But we’re still dating, right?” I add, my lips curving into a smirk. “Because I already picked up the ring.”
Her mouth falls open, and she gapes at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What?”
“You heard me,” I say, leaning back against the counter. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Valentina. We’ve still got a deal, and if I have to grovel to make it work, I will. But don’t think for a second that I’m not serious about us.”
The look on her face is priceless—equal parts stunned and flustered. And if I didn’t feel like shit about how I treated her yesterday, I’d tease her even more.
Instead, I cross my arms and wait for her response, because for once, I’m not backing down.
“We weren’t dating. It’s fake,” she squeaks, her voice higher than usual, betraying her nerves.
“Oh, we are. It was temporary, remember,” I say, my tone low and deliberate. Because damn if I’m letting her get away. I need her.
Her calm, the way she grounds me when everything feels like it’s spinning out of control. Her fire, how she never backs down, even when I’m being an absolute asshole. Her goddamn laugh, soft and warm, the kind of thing I didn’t realize I craved until she gave it to me.
And yeah, her pussy. I want to bury my cock so deep inside her she forgets her own name. I want to claim her in every way possible.
She’s mine, and I’ll make her see that.
Even if it’s a fake shot for now.
Even if she’s still pretending we’re just playing a role.
She can tell herself whatever she wants, but this? Us? It’s real as fuck to me. Because Valentina Holiday is it for me. She just doesn’t know it yet. But I’ll show her.
Her mouth opens and closes, like she’s trying to come up with a counterargument but can’t find one that sticks. Her cheeks flush, and that little wrinkle between her brows appears—the one that drives me insane because it’s so her.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, leaning forward, my voice dropping into something rougher, more intimate. “Tell me, baby.”
Her eyes flick to mine, and for a moment, I think she’s going to say something real. But then she straightens her shoulders, pulls herself together, and tilts her chin up in that defiant way she does.
“I’m thinking you’re insane,” she mutters.
I chuckle darkly, stepping closer until I’m towering over her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin. “Maybe. But all I need is for you to give me a chance. To believe in me—to let me in. Because I don’t just need you for my PR. I need you, period. I need you to help me figure out why, in the past month, I’ve missed you so fucking much. Why every time I pick up my phone, I almost text you, just to hear you say something snarky back. Why I can’t stop thinking about how you smile when you’re trying not to. Why the memory of your lips on mine keeps me up at night.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Instead, she just stares at me, her chest rising and falling a little too fast, like she’s fighting to keep her composure.
I take a step closer, my voice dropping lower. “Let me grovel. Let me prove I’m not the asshole you think I am. You have every right to slam the door on me, but if you let me, I’ll show you I want you in my life—on your terms, not mine. Because this past month without you? It’s been hell. And I don’t want another day of it.”
Her breath hitches, her gaze flickering with something I can’t quite place. Good. Let her feel this. Let her see that she’s not the only one fighting to hold it together. Let her know she’s not alone in this pull that’s been driving me out of my mind.