Chapter 16
Sixteen
REESE
I nervously tap my fingernails against my steering wheel outside of the Devils’ arena as I wait for Malaki. I pinch my leg again, just in case the first few times I did it were a fluke, but unfortunately, the tiny bite of pain is still there, which means this is not a dream.
If we go through with this–wait, no. We are not going through with this.
I am not engaged to Malaki Young.
Through the windshield, I watch the bus until it comes to a halt in front of the arena. A group of Blue Devils players exit the arena and head for it with their suitcases. They have an away game and soon will be on an airplane out of the state.
Which is good, considering I’m about to tell Malaki that even though he was awfully convincing last night, I still haven’t changed my mind. We can’t fake an engagement.
My breath catches as soon as I see him.
At least I had enough sense to pick a good-looking fake fiancé, even if it is the shortest engagement in the world.
His formal attire isn’t overdone by any means–blue dress pants, a white button-down with a few buttons popped, and a matching suit jacket.
One single strand of his perfectly messy hair hangs over his forehead, and I’m thankful he’s wearing sunglasses.
That way, I don’t have to look into his dreamy blue eyes.
Suddenly, he's standing in front of the passenger window. He grins and mouths, “Unlock the door.”
Oh, right.
I quickly unlock it, and he slides into the passenger seat. His cologne swarms my senses, and I have to pinch my leg again to pull myself together. He adjusts the seat so he’s able to fit better before brushing his hand down his dress pants, smoothing them out.
God, he’s hot.
It’s a contradiction.
He’s a contradiction.
No one this sexy in a suit should have an air of unease around him too. My pulse quickens, and I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel.
“I got you something,” he finally says.
“I hope it’s a divorce,” I joke.
His jaw unhinges. “We’re not even married yet, and you’re asking for a divorce?”
I roll my eyes playfully and somehow keep my mouth from forming a smile. “We’re not getting married, and we’re not engaged,” I remind him.
Malaki lifts a hip and shoves his fingers into his pocket. He keeps his hand clasped and holds it over my center console. “Open your hand, Dimples.”
I sigh and do as he says. “If this is a ring, I swear–”
My sentence is cut off by that exact thing dropping into my palm.
“You swear what?” Malaki mocks.
“Malaki.” I plan for his name to sound like I'm chastising him, but instead, it comes out as an airy whisper.
I stare at the prettiest diamond I’ve ever seen.
I’ve never held something so expensive before.
It makes my skin itch.
I clear my throat. “You know the only reason I asked to see you this morning was to tell you that we cannot go through with this.”
And fine. Maybe I wanted to see him one more time.
For what?
I don’t know. I just…did.
Zoe is all for this engagement.
Malaki too, if that shiny ring has anything to say about it.
Apparently, I’m the only one not.
Malaki steals the ring out of the palm of my hand, his fingers sweeping against the skin quickly. Heat races up my arm, and I jerk my hand away.
This is exactly why we can’t go through with this.
I’m too affected by him, too blinded by shiny things.
If I entertain this idea of a fake engagement with a pro hockey player in an attempt to trick Benedict and the justice system into thinking I have my shit together, it’ll blow up in my face.
Because newsflash: I do not have my shit together.
Malaki twirls the ring in between two fingers and gazes out the passenger window. Some more of his teammates are walking toward the bus with their bags slung over their shoulders, which means he’s going to have to go.
“I thought I was pretty convincing last night,” he says, gliding his gaze over to me. “I mean, I already got you a ring.”
I push my back into my seat. “I didn’t ask you to do that, though.”
An airy chuckle leaves him. “And that’s exactly why I did it.”
There’s an argument on the tip of my tongue, ready to come out, but he cuts me off.
“Your sister said you’d do this.”
I’m instantly irritated. “Do what?” I ask.
He reaches for my hand again, his fingers wrapping around my wrist to gently pull on my arm. With a determined look in his eye, he uncurls my clenched palm to slip the engagement ring onto my finger. “She said you’d push back because you hate when people help you.”
“Well…” Damn her. “I don’t need help.”
Malaki snaps his eyes up to mine, and my heart leaps. His blue eyes, dreamy and soft, deepen.
I think he could convince me to do anything.
“Yes, you do, Reese.” His tone is grave.
I glance to the diamond on my finger and then back to him.
“And you’re going to take my help,” he demands.
If it were anyone else, like Benedict, I’d recoil at the dominance. But with Malaki, it’s different. It’s sincere, and he’s highly persuasive. Whether it’s regarding an Uber ride, staying at the club to dance with him, or remaining his fake fiancée, I find myself agreeing.
There is so much ease with Malaki. It makes him dangerously convincing and outwardly trustworthy.
I gingerly pull my hand away from his. “And what if I don’t?”
Am I going to go through with this?
Can we pull this off?
“You will,” he says matter of fact.
The ring is like a brand, searing itself with guilt and sin around my finger. “You act like you know me,” I say.
“I know enough.”
I huff. He does not.
His phone goes off, but he ignores it. “I know that if you’re willing to work as hard as you do to provide for your daughter and your sister on your own, then you’re willing to do almost anything to keep what you’ve built so far.”
His phone goes off again, and this time, he reaches for it.
“I’m coming,” he says into it, hanging up a second later.
I should take the ring off and give it back to him. The diamond sparkles beneath the morning sun, but I pull my gaze away and look into the rearview at Charleigh’s empty car seat.
Give him the ring.
This is crazy.
You can’t.
I barely know him. Sure, he’s willing to act like my fiancé just to help me, but…
He smiles at me, and my stomach dips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow…future Mrs. Young.” He grips the door handle and slips out of my car.
My mouth hangs open with shock as he strides toward the bus with ease, as if he didn’t just leave me with an expensive ring on my finger.
He disappears onto the bus, and I get a text.
It’s an address.
That’s it.
Then another message comes through.
Malaki
Movers will be at your apartment in an hour to get your things. See you at home.
I quickly fling my attention out the windshield, but Malaki and the bus are long gone.
“Oh my god, stop being so dramatic about this!” Zoe spins around the foyer of the address Malaki gave me with bewilderment. “Look at our new place!”
I refuse to call it ours, because it’s not, but apparently, Zoe didn’t get that memo.
Charleigh claps aggressively in my arms, bouncing up and down as she watches her auntie twirl over the marble floor.
“Even Char is excited!” she says.
“That’s because you’re acting like a maniac!” I hiss.
“Says the girl wearing an engagement ring from a man she hardly knows.”
My jaw drops. “You’re the one who told me to go through with this!”
Zoe’s laugh echoes throughout the empty space. “I’m kidding! Of course I’m all for it. It’s like killing two birds with one stone. A better place to live, and we’re getting rid of Benedict? I mean, why wouldn’t you?”
I turn my back to Zoe and ignore the small stack of boxes from our apartment in the middle of the floor.
The moving company showed up with four hefty men, thinking they’d have to move loads of furniture and household goods down three flights of stairs, but in reality, it was four boxes, and most of the things were Charleigh’s.
“Because,” I stress. “I feel like a charity case.”
My head spins the longer I stand unmoving in the foyer of a house that I’d never be able to afford. It’s in a historical part of town where the homes are even more expensive, with pretty windows for natural light and bricks that are fully intact and not at all crumbling.
There’s even a little yard full of green grass in the back for Charleigh to play on.
I slowly walk throughout the house and remind myself that this is all fake.
I can’t get invested.
Zoe follows me, and we both stare into the kitchen. It’s pristine with state-of-the-art appliances and a modern feel. Zoe steals Charleigh out of my arms and helps her stand on top of the kitchen island.
“We’ve been a charity case our entire lives.” Zoe scrunches her nose at Charleigh. She bounces up and down, her little bare feet leaving footprints on the marble. I spy her two little bottom teeth and can't help but smile too. “What’s a few more months?” she finishes, raising an eyebrow at me.
Charleigh squeals, and my shoulders drop.
“A few months?” I take Charleigh from Zoe. “You think that’s all it’ll take? Just a few months of acting happily in love with some hockey player and playing ‘family’ with him?”
Zoe tightens her ponytail and heads for the stairs. “A few months, a year? I guess we’ll see.” She jogs up the steps and shouts over her shoulder. “Either way, I get the biggest room.”
“Yeah right!” I call after her. “You’re going back to the dorms!”
“Never!” she shouts back.
I laugh to myself as Charleigh wiggles in my arms again.
“Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma,” she babbles.
“Okay, fine.” I press my nose to hers.“We can stay. But don’t get attached. This isn’t permanent.”
“Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma.” Her little hand lands on mine, and she is immediately distracted by the ring on my finger. Her lower lip pops out as she studies it, concentrating on the shine that continues to catch my eye too.
“Don’t get attached to that either,” I whisper, more to myself than her. “It isn’t permanent.”