Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Leo
Mara just gapes at me for a couple of seconds. Then she laughs.
“Are you joking?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, annoyed. “Why would I joke about this? It’s not remotely funny.”
Her smile slides away. “But why me? Aren’t there like ... a thousand other women in your phone you could have asked?”
“It wasn’t like that. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and Carter backed me up with the photo you took of us.”
A note of laughter bursts out of her. “No, don’t put this on me. I’m not part of your ... shenanigans just because of that photo.”
“You don’t have to actually date me. I just need you to go along with the story.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, not saying anything for a few seconds. When she finally speaks, she says, “It doesn’t even make sense, Leo. Your teammates have all seen us together at parties and they know it’s all we can do not to strangle each other.”
“We can tell them it took a turn. The passion was always there; we just rechanneled it.”
She smiles, amused. “Rechanneled it?”
“Yeah. You’re still yelling when we’re together, but now you’re yelling out my name while my face is between your thighs.”
Her brows shoot up. “Really? Is this the charm that parts legs in every city you visit?”
“Not even close. You haven’t seen any of the charm yet, but you will if you do this for me.”
She furrows her brow in a half cringe. “I honestly don’t think I can convince anyone I’m into you.”
I bristle at that. “Why not? Am I really that bad?”
“No, you’re actually very hot. But everyone knows we hate each other.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I used to—before your drunken intrusion.”
I have to force myself to focus on the road, though I’d rather look at her. Traffic is heavy, but within a minute, I’m pulling into the parking lot of Neptune’s.
“Do you mind if I park in the lot next door? I’m kind of precious about my car.”
“I’m precious about human rights. You and I are not the same. See what I mean?”
I ignore her jab and park my car in a spot without cars on either side of it.
“What can I say to convince you?” I ask on the walk into the restaurant.
“I can help you find someone for this. Easiest job ever with you being a hockey player. You’ll be so much happier pretending to be with someone you could actually end up liking instead of me.”
This is going about as well as I was worried it would. I run a hand through my hair, feeling a few cold snowflakes. “I already told him it’s you, Mara. Can you please just do me this one favor?”
She stops walking, turning to me and lifting her chin so we’re eye to eye. “Why would I do that? To be nice to you? I don’t fucking care if you think I’m nice. I once heard you tell Carter I’m a spoiled brat whose voice makes you want to claw your own eyes out.”
I exhale heavily, remembering the day I said that. I was in a shit mood. “That was more than a year ago.”
“So fucking what? You still think that.”
I pause, feeling the ruse slipping through my fingers. “Not as much. You stayed to help me with Darling—a brat wouldn’t have done that.”
“A brat.” She crosses her arms, her eyes bright with anger.
“You want to know how much of a brat I am, Leo? I’m two hundred eighty-one thousand dollars in debt from college and law school loans.
I make sixty-eight thousand dollars a year and can barely afford my loan payments.
If I’m wearing nice clothes or shoes, I bought them used. My parents have nothing .”
Her voice breaks on the last word, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
“Mara, I’m?—”
“I’m not done! My parents worked so fucking hard, Leo.
So fucking hard, and everything was taken away from them for something they didn’t deserve.
I waitressed in high school just to keep food on the table when things were really bad with my dad.
I promise you I am not the least bit spoiled, but you’ve never taken the time to know anything about me. ”
Angry tears well in her eyes. Or maybe they aren’t angry. Her parents are clearly an emotional subject for her, and I didn’t mean for us to get into something so heavy in the parking lot of Neptune’s.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “You’re right. I made a stupid assumption and never bothered to find out the truth.”
She looks away, the tears falling onto her cheeks when she blinks. “I don’t want your pity. It’s a lot easier when you’re just an asshole.”
“I don’t pity you.”
“Leo ... I have a lot of resentment inside me. A small sliver of it is toward you, but when I get mad, my resentment about other people and things can come flying out of me and hit whoever is closest. You’d have a hard time pretending to be into me, too.”
“I shouldn’t have asked. It was selfish.”
She sighs, her exhale making a small cloud in the cold. “I’ll do it for two hundred and fifty grand.”
My chin drops in shock. “What?”
She turns to face me, vulnerability swirling in her caramel eyes as she holds my gaze.
“For my parents. My dad was hit by a drunk driver when I was fourteen and he’s paralyzed.
I know it’s a lot of money, but it would change their lives.
I went to law school because I wanted to help them with money, but then I was an idiot who left my high-paying job to work in traffic court, so that’s never happening. ”
It is a lot of money, but also, it’s not. I’ve been smart with my money over the past ten years in pro hockey and I have more than twenty million dollars between savings and investments. Plus another two million in the bank that I can access anytime.
“Okay,” I say.
Her eyes widen with shock. “Okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. You’re right—if I’m getting something out of it, you should, too.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “I ... wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
I nod at the restaurant, my hands freezing in the cold. “Let’s talk about it over dinner.”
“Okay, but before we even walk inside—I’m not sleeping with you.” She’s on the verge of tears again, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. “Not even for that much money.”
I put my palms up. “I’d never ask you to do that. I’d never want any woman who didn’t want me to do anything like that. This situation won’t involve anything physical. Ever.”
She wipes her fingertips beneath her eyes. “And you’re still willing to do it? For that much money?”
The woman I call the queen of mean has her armor off in this moment, and I see how wrong I’ve been about her. She just wants to help her parents, and she’s carrying around a lot of guilt over not being able to.
“You’re the one doing me a favor.” I fight my urge to reach out and cup her cheek, which is tinged pink from the cold.
“But this ... the money part, I mean ... can we not tell anyone? Suki knows about my parents, and Dex and Harry know a little bit, but not everything. I don’t like talking about it.”
I get that more than she’ll ever know. I’m the same way about my brother’s death. No matter how many years pass, it stays raw. Talking about it just reopens the wound.
“Just between us,” I say. “I promise. You, me and my accountant will be the only ones who know, because she’ll be the one sending the money.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
She turns to walk into the restaurant, and I follow. The lobby is crowded with people waiting for tables, but when I mention our team owner’s name to the host, we’re immediately led to a quiet table for two in the back of the restaurant.
“The fewer people who know the truth, the better,” I say once we’re in our seats and alone. “Especially on my team.”
“Want me to post that selfie on my socials?”
Ugh. That’s something I’ll have to do, too. And when my friends and former teammates see it, I’ll get flooded with messages. I’ve never posted a photo of a woman on my social media.
“Yeah,” I say. “And send it to me. I’ll post it too.”
She gives me the devilish smile I know all too well. “Caption it, My heart and add a heart emoji.”
I groan. “Come on. Everyone who knows me knows I’m not cheesy.”
“You are for me.” She rests her chin on her hand, grinning. “By the end of this, I’ll have you posting about how you’d crawl through broken glass just to kiss my filthy, unmanicured feet.”
I glare at her across the small table. “What’s your handle? I have to follow you.”
“I’m MaraTorres19 on all of them.”
“What’s the nineteen for?”
“My favorite constitutional amendment.”
I roll my eyes. “Nerd.”
“Caveman.”
I pick up my menu. “Me hungry, so figure out what you want to order.”
“I think we need pet names for each other.”
I slump in my seat, dreading what she’ll come up with.
“Mine should be about your ass, because obviously,” she says.
I sit up straighter. “Obviously what?”
She lowers her brows. “You’re going to make me say it? It’s a great ass. There.”
“You like my pro dumper?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Why did you just ruin it?”
“No, not like that. That’s what we call a strong ass in hockey.”
“I’ve noticed other guys on the team have decent asses, but yours is exceptional. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”
“You want me to sign a picture of it for you?”
She scoffs. “No.”
“I should call you my little habanero.”
Her jaw drops. “Fucking racist. I’m about to raise my price.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like because you’re hot and spicy.”
“Uh-huh. And I’ll call you my little Neanderthal.”
I focus on the menu, fighting my urge to keep escalating the argument. That’s usually our style. We both want to get the last word in. But that’s Mara all the time, and I’m not like that with anyone but her.
Conflict gives me anxiety--unless it's with her. Weirdly, I enjoy our interactions, even when she frustrates the hell out of me. It’s kind of an outlet.
“We can easily get away without meeting each other’s families because we can say things are still new,” I say. “But I’ll need you for some holiday stuff with my team. There’s an ugly sweater party Wednesday evening. Can you make that?”
“Sure.” She meets my gaze. “As long as I get to pick out your sweater.”
I sigh softly. “Fine. You won’t be able to shock my teammates. Better pick one fast, or it won’t be here on time.”
“It’ll be fine. You can do expedited shipping.”
I guess this is my life now. Playing hockey and amusing Mara. But it won’t be forever. We can fake a hot and heavy relationship for a month and then say she dumped me and I’m devastated. That should buy me time with Anson.
And if nothing else, this year’s holiday season will at least be memorable.