Chapter 10
Avery
I made the right decision.
I've been telling myself this ever since Liam left my office. It’s the only decision that makes sense professionally, logically, and rationally.
So why am I not happy with myself?
Why do I keep remembering the side of him that the public doesn't know? The man who adopted six puppies, all because he couldn’t bear the thought of them being put down.
And why can't I forget the ruthless, delicious pressure of his cock, the way he knew exactly how to angle himself to hit that perfect spot, drawing a scream from me with just a few thrusts.
I shake those thoughts out of my head as the Uber pulls up to Hayes & Company Event Planning. This is exactly the kind of thinking that gets me in trouble. Liam Novak is a client. A job. Nothing more.
The building is in SoHo and is a converted warehouse with exposed brick and industrial windows. I stroll into the reception area, which is gorgeous with a small seating area and flowers on a coffee table.
“I'm here to see Harper Hayes,” I tell the young woman at the desk.
“She's expecting you. Third floor, corner office.”
I take the elevator up, using the mirrored walls to check my appearance. No hint of the woman who spent last night tangled up in her client's sheets while puppies slept at the foot of the bed.
The elevator opens onto the third floor's open workspace. Near the entrance, a woman with headphones hunches over her desk, fingers flying across her keyboard.
Past the collaborative area, a corner office with glass walls catches my eye. That has to be Harper's. I make my way across the space.
She looks up with a smile when I knock on her open door. “Avery, come in, please.”
Harper Hayes is tall and elegant, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She's wearing tailored black pants and a silk blouse, managing to look both professional and stylish.
“Thanks for making time on short notice,” I say, settling into the chair across from her desk.
“Of course. Jennifer speaks highly of you.” Harper closes her laptop and gives me her full attention. “How are you settling into New York?”
“Still unpacking boxes, honestly,” I say with a laugh.
“Have you found the best coffee spots in your neighborhood?”
If I hadn’t been so obsessed with Liam, I would have done that and a lot more. “I’m getting there.”
“We need to fix that immediately.” Harper leans forward, her expression warm and conspiratorial.
“Listen, I know we're here for business, but if you ever want to grab drinks or need recommendations, call me. A new city can be isolating, and the sports world is small enough that we should stick together.”
The offer makes my heart squeeze. I've been so focused on work that I haven't thought about actually building a life here. “I'd like that.”
“Good. Now—” Harper's phone rings, cutting her off. She glances at the screen, and a smile comes over her features. “I'm so sorry, I need to take this.”
“No problem.”
“Hey, you,” Harper says into the phone, and even though I'm trying not to eavesdrop, it's clear this is personal. Her voice goes warm and affectionate. “No, I told you the caterer samples are on Friday. Because I'm working, that's why. I literally scheduled it around your free time.”
She shoots me an apologetic look, mouthing “boyfriend” while rolling her eyes fondly.
I busy myself examining the mood boards on her wall. The Renegade's logo appears frequently enough that it's clear she handles most of their events.
“Love you too,” Harper says, ending the call with a smile. “Sorry about that. I’m planning a surprise birthday for my boyfriend, and keeping it a surprise is hard with the season ongoing.”
“Oh,” I say as the pieces click into place. Her boyfriend must be a player. I wonder if he and Liam are friends.
“Hey, you should come!” Harper says, excitement in her voice. “Please say yes. You’re new in town, right? It’ll be a nice way of getting to know a few people away from work.”
“I'd love to.” It dawns on me how isolated I’ve been, not knowing anyone in the city. Harper seems like exactly the kind of person I'd want to be friends with. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Perfect.” Harper beams. “It's next Friday night. The team has Friday off before their game on Sunday, so it works out. I'll text you the details once we're done here.”
Friday makes sense. It gives me something to look forward to beyond work. “Sounds great.” I pull out my notebook, ready to refocus on business. “So, about Saturday's hospital visit?”
Harper's expression shifts back to professional. “Right. Let me pull up the details.” She opens her laptop. “We have Cole, Jake, Ryan, and Alex confirmed for two PM at the Children's Hospital on the Upper East Side. The kids are expecting photos, autographs, the whole experience.”
“I'd like to add Liam to that list.”
Harper locks gazes with me. “Liam was on the original invitation list. He didn't respond. Not the first time either.”
Shame floods through me, which is ridiculous. I'm not responsible for his choices, but somehow his pattern of ignoring commitments feels like my failure now, too. “He'll be there. Even if I have to drag him myself.”
A small smile tugs at Harper's lips. “Bold strategy. The hospital is expecting four players. If I add a fifth, especially last minute, they'll need to adjust their schedule.”
“I understand. I'll make sure he's there and ready to engage.” A need to defend him comes over me. “He's not as bad as his reputation suggests.”
Harper's eyebrow arches. “Really? Because his reputation suggests he's pretty bad.”
“Yes, he’s wild and impulsive, and makes terrible decisions.” It hurts to say this, but it’s true. “But he's got a good heart. He adopted six puppies.” The memory of walking into Liam’s house to the puppies creating havoc in his living room makes me smile.
Her eyes widen slightly. “Six puppies?”
I nod. “He rescued them from a shelter that wanted to put them down. He got all of them because he couldn't stand the thought of them being put down.”
Harper's expression shifts. “That's actually kind of sweet.”
“It is.”
My heart pounds as an idea sparks in my mind. “Harper, do you know any photographers? Someone who could be available right now?”
“Right now?” Harper blinks at the subject change. “I work with several, but availability on a Tuesday afternoon is tough. Why?”
“I need photos. Good ones. Of Liam with the puppies.”
Understanding dawns in Harper's eyes. She reaches for her phone. “Let me make some calls.” She dials, waits. “Hey Josh, it's Harper Hayes. I have a last-minute shoot. Like within the hour. Are you free?” Her face falls. “Damn. Okay, thanks anyway.”
She tries another number immediately and proceeds to explain. This one seems to go well and relief floods me. “You're amazing. I'm giving your number to Avery Carter from the Renegades PR team. She'll give you the details.”
She scribbles something down on her notepad and tears off the sheet, sliding it across the desk. “Rob is good, and he owes me a favor.”
“Harper, you're a lifesaver.”
“You’re welcome.” She stands up at the same time as I do.
“Good luck tomorrow. Media days are brutal enough without having to clean up All-Star weekend shenanigans.”
“I know, hence the puppy pictures,” I say, gathering my things.
Outside Harper's office, I pull out my phone and text Liam.
Me: Are you home?
His response comes within seconds.
Liam: Yeah.
Me: Stay there. I'm on my way.
I call Rob next. “Hi, this is Avery Carter. Harper Hayes gave me your number.”
“Right, the last-minute shoot. What are we talking about?”
“Professional athlete with six puppies. I need candid, warm, approachable shots. Can you meet me at this address?” I give him Liam's building information.
“See you there,” Rob says, not sounding fazed at all by my request. I guess he’s seen it all in New York.
The Uber ride to Liam's building gives me exactly twenty minutes to think. The images will hit social media this afternoon, meaning tomorrow’s media day attention won’t be on Liam’s weekend…activities.
Rob is waiting outside when I arrive, camera bag slung over his shoulder and a second bag that probably contains lighting equipment. He's younger than I expected, maybe late twenties.
“Avery?”
“That's me. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“Harper doesn't ask for favors often. Plus, puppies? Anytime. What's the vibe we're going for?”
“Natural. I want people to see who this guy really is at home.”
“Got it. Let's do this.”
Liam buzzes us and we head up together. My stomach tightens as we approach Liam's door. I can hear barking, which makes me relax somewhat.
Liam opens the door before I can knock. He's wearing gray sweatpants and a Renegades t-shirt, hair still damp like he’s just come from the shower. Inappropriate image pop into my mind and I quickly shut them down.
His smile fades when he sees Rob. “What's going on?”
“This is Rob, photographer. We're doing a shoot.”
“A shoot?” Liam's gaze moves between us, confused and wary. “Of what?”
“You and the puppies.“ I step past him into the apartment, with Rob following. “You playing with them, holding them, being the guy who saved their lives.”
The living room is fairly neat. That sitter is certainly doing her job. Princess—aka Avery—immediately trots over to me, tail wagging, and a tug pulls at my chest.
“Hi, baby,” I croon, crouching to pet her. I smile at the memory of Liam trying to name the puppy after me. Thankfully, we settled for Princess.
“Avery, I don't understand,” Liam says, sounding put off. I guess anyone would be if they were ambushed, but this is his mess to clean.
“Media day is tomorrow,” I say, straightening and brushing puppy hair off my blazer. “Every reporter is going to ask about your weekend. We need to give them something else to talk about.”
Liam crosses his arms, and I force myself not to notice how the movement emphasizes his biceps or how the t-shirt stretches across his chest. “So you want to use the puppies as a distraction?”
“I want to show people who you really are.”
He shakes his head. “I don't want to exploit them for PR.”
“It's not exploitation. It's truth.” I gesture to the puppies, who are now investigating Rob's equipment. “This happened. You did this. Why shouldn't people know about it?”
Rob clears his throat. “For what it's worth, I'll keep it natural. No forced poses, no fake moments. Just you being yourself with them. If it feels wrong at any point, we stop.”
Liam sighs. “Fine. Do I need to change?”
“No, you’re fine as you are,” Rob says.
The shoot takes longer than expected, but that's because Rob is good at his job. He doesn't direct much like he promised and just follows Liam around as he plays with the puppies.
He captures one puppy climbing into Liam's lap and gets a perfect shot of her curled against Liam’s chest while he strokes her. There's another one of Princess trying to chew on his shoelace while he laughs.
I stay out of the way, but my whole body turns to liquid as I watch Liam being impossibly sweet. The public will eat this up.
“Got it,” Rob announces after an hour. “These are great. You want me to send them to your email?”
“Please. And thank you, seriously.”
“Anytime. Good luck tomorrow.” Rob packs up efficiently and lets himself out, leaving me alone with Liam and six exhausted puppies.
The apartment feels suddenly too quiet.
“Avery.” He's close enough now that I can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It takes everything in me not to curl up against him and burrow my face in his chest. “We need to talk about Sunday night.”
“No, we don't.” I step back. “You were horny, I was horny.” I shrug, aiming for casual. “That's all it was.”
Liam's expression shutters, the openness disappearing. “Right,” he says flatly. “Just scratching an itch.”
His saying that turns my stomach, but that’s all this can be. “Exactly. No reason to complicate things.”
“Of course not.” His laugh is bitter. “Wouldn't want to complicate your perfect professional reputation.”
The barb stings. I grab my bag, suddenly desperate to leave before these walls I'm holding up start crumbling.
“See you tomorrow,” I say as I open the door. I don't wait for his response. In the elevator, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
That was brutal. The look on his face when I called it meaningless. The way his whole body tensed like I'd physically hit him.
But I said what needed to be said. I drew the line that needed to be drawn.
As the elevator descends, I congratulate myself on my acting skills. He bought every word.