Chapter 38

NASH

“Hey, Nash,” Piper says breezily when she gets home from her day at the bakery.

“Hi,” I answer, feeling a little off-kilter at how casual her demeanor is after what happened yesterday.

Piper hums a pleasant tune as she goes to her bedroom and changes into something more comfortable. She then heads to the kitchen to put the kettle on and brew herself a cup of tea, one of her after-work rituals that I’ve noticed.

Her light, relaxed manner, as if our conversation yesterday never happened, makes me feel … nervous.

“How’s the search for that big money sponsorship going, Nash?” she asks from the kitchen, as if it’s a totally off-hand comment.

“Uh … okay, I guess. My agent’s working on it.”

“Hmm,” Piper muses. There’s a certain note in the noise that puts my guard up. Something about it doesn’t sound exactly innocent. “I thought the whole point of you getting married was that the offers were going to come rolling in. But it’s been months.”

“Well … these things take time.”

“Hmm,” the same not-so-innocent sound.

She walks over with her mug of tea and drops down onto the couch cushion next to me. Not the one on the far side of the couch. The middle one, right next to me.

“Interesting.” She takes a small sip of tea. “Makes you think. Makes you wonder.”

My lips flatten, eyes sliding over to her. “About what?”

“Well, you were so sure that getting married would be the golden ticket to you getting all these amazing sponsorship offers. You were so sure about it, and cared about it so much, you were willing to literally marry me.” Another sip of tea.

“But then, months after marriage, nothing. And it doesn’t seem to bother you much.

It’s like you don’t care at all. Makes you think. ”

“Does it?” I grunt.

“Mhm.” Sip. “Makes me think that maybe that reason was bullshit from the beginning.”

My lips purse. The word busted flashes in my brain.

“Like you actually liked me enough to want to do me the favor of marrying me, like you actually liked the idea of us having to spend time together, so it was just a plausible-sounding excuse that you pulled out of your ass.”

Piper continues composedly sipping her tea next to me as I’m in stunned silence.

“But you don’t even feel any chemistry between us, so that can’t be it. I’m sure you’ve been working super hard finding those sponsorships, and I just haven’t been paying attention. I’m sure you’ll get a big one soon.”

Now it’s clear what Piper is doing. She’s going to keep confronting me with how much I lied when I said that I didn’t feel anything between us.

If I just came clean with my real reasons for not wanting to step over that line, I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But if I told her the truth—that I’m afraid of getting too attached and then getting crushed when it all ends—that might scare her away.

I’m really between a rock and a hard place. And I guess I need to get back on the phone with my agent.

“What a fucking game, Nash!” Colson says when I call him back in my hotel room after a 3-0 away win against Portland. I left him a message this morning to check in on his efforts to get me an endorsement deal. He texted me to call after the game.

“Thanks,” I answer. “Would’ve loved to get a goal, though. Kicking myself for the one that hit the crossbar.”

“Forget it, you killed it out on the ice tonight. Besides, that assist you tossed to Cooper Landry was a damn beauty.”

I smile at the memory. I don’t love to toot my own horn, but that one was pretty sweet.

“Anyway, about the reason I called earlier.”

“Right. Well, the thing is … it’s the same as I told you last time. I could get you some small-money endorsements, like I always could, but I don’t know if you’re interested in putting in the effort for low returns.”

I sigh, annoyed. “Yeah, not really. I’m looking for something significant.”

That’s what I told Piper, after all, when I was down on one knee in the parking lot and she was still a runaway bride. If I let some no-name company pay me a couple thousand to use me in ads for their bargain product, she’s going to see right through me.

Truth be told, even if I do secure a significant sponsorship, it probably won’t fool her at this point. But this feels like the only play I have.

“Just find something, man. Please. I’m desperate here.”

“Desperate?” Worry fills Colson’s voice. “Why? For money? I literally know the dollar figure of your contract, Nash. What the hell are you getting yourself into?”

I groan. “It’s not that. It’s … it’s hard to explain.”

Colson lets out a long, thoughtful sigh. “Alright. I’ll pound the pavement even harder.”

“Pound it hard, Colson.”

A long beat of silence follows on the phone as I replay those words in my head. “I’m going to choose not to comment on the way you phrased that.”

“Thanks.”

“Because the terms of our professional relationship are very deliberately outlined in the contract we signed, and they certainly don’t include—”

“You’re breaking your own promise already.”

Colson laughs. “Fair. Alright, man, I’ll dig deep into my book of tricks and see what I can do about getting you a deal.”

After the call, I unwind a bit by reading some hockey articles by analysts I like. It’s important to stay informed on the current state of the game. About an hour passes, and I get a text.

PIPER

Wearing your jersey to watch the game was so comfortable that I decided I’ll wear it to sleep

Then she sends a picture that makes me groan.

The picture is angled from her point of view, looking down as she sits crisscross on the bed. She has my jersey on, and the hem covers practically zero percent of her legs. If that jersey hitched up one millimeter, I’d be seeing all of Piper.

PIPER

Not wearing anything underneath, just the jersey

My throat goes dry and tight.

PIPER

I wouldn’t add that little piece of info if I thought there might be any sexual tension between us, but since you’ve assured me there isn’t, I’m sure it won’t affect you! Good night!

Fuck me. Piper could’ve led the Spanish Inquisition with her obvious talent for torture.

Piper knows exactly what she’s doing, that’s for sure.

I wonder if she knows what I’m doing when I pull out my cock and get myself off thinking of the picture she sent.

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