Chapter 17
Seventeen
MALAKI
“What do you mean you’re moving out?” Kane studies me from across the ice.
I toss the puck to him, but he lets it slide right past. I skate a circle around him. “You know you’re going to move Daisy in eventually, so why do you care?”
I opted to use my house on the other side of town as an Airbnb and moved in with Kane when he found himself in a sticky financial situation, but I wouldn’t really call us roommates. He’s sort of a loner. The quiet, broody type.
I decided to drop the news now as we warm up for the last period of the game. We’re up 2 to 1, but we all know that doesn’t mean anything. I figure it’s better to tell him while we’re winning, versus after, in case we lose.
Most of the team will be fuming if we leave defeated, especially Kane.
Don’t get me wrong, I hate to lose too.
I’m just a little more in control of my emotions than the rest of these hotheads.
“The rent is paid for the rest of the year,” I add. “Is that why you’re looking at me like I just broke your heart?” I lean in close. “Don’t tell me you’re heartbroken that I’m moving out. I didn’t realize you liked me that much.”
“I don’t,” he snaps.
Rhodes, an even grumpier version of Kane, skates past, and I take the opportunity for what it is. “Hey, Volkova.” I tap him with my stick, and he stops immediately, ice flinging up from his abrupt pause. He glares at my stick against the front of his jersey.
“What do you want, Young?”
I fling my chin over to Kane. “Kane is sad that I’m moving out of the apartment. Figured you’d want to see him shed a tear or two—you know, to confirm that he does have feelings.”
Rhodes glances at Kane and then to me. “Do you ever shut up?”
Kane is the first to answer. “No. He doesn’t.”
Rhodes grins and skates off with Kane following close behind. I trail them because I still haven’t broken the news to them—or to anyone, really.
“Don’t you guys want to know why I’m moving? Or where?”
Rhodes turns, skating backward with his stoic face smooth. “Not unless it’s because you’re being traded, which I know isn’t the case…so, nope.”
He skates away, and I let him.
I steal a puck from the floor, the crowd becoming louder as the minutes tick by. I toss the black biscuit back and forth before heading to center ice to fling it at our goalie.
Olson blocks it with his killer reflexes before doing the same to Kane’s.
“Damn, he’s good,” Kane mutters.
He is.
I’ll admit, our team had a lot of work to do at the beginning of the season, but adding Emory Olson to the roster as our goalie has completely turned this season around. We’re not bad, and the league is beginning to notice.
“Okay, fine,” Kane gives in. “I’ll take the bait. Where are you moving?”
The buzzer sounds, and we’re quickly pulled back to the bench. “Back to my house on Oak.”
I tip my head back and squirt water into my mouth.
“Oak?” Rhodes, who must’ve been listening, repeats the name of the street.
I smirk. “Oh, so Daddy does want to know where I’m moving.”
He narrows his eyes. “Never call me Daddy again if you want to make it back to your house on Oak.”
“Young, go.”
I hop up from the bench at the sound of Coach’s voice.
Before swinging my leg around to climb onto the ice, I mention to Kane that I’m going to be living with Reese.
“Reese?” he repeats. “Daisy’s Reese?”
The blade of my skate touches the ice, and I nod. “Yep.”
My chest grows tight, but I still can’t figure out if I’m excited at the prospect or scared out of my fucking mind.
Not only are we about to be living together…but she has a kid.
I’ve been known to seek out a challenge a time or two, but this? This is uncharted territory, and there’s a lot more at stake than something like getting MVP of the year.
I shut my car door and stare up at the house.
I bought it when I first moved to Chicago, because the price was right, and it was close to the arena. Since moving in with Kane, it’s been listed as an Airbnb just to keep things running smoothly.
It’s fully furnished, and the appliances are brand new.
I wonder if Reese likes it.
If she doesn’t, I suppose we can just move someplace else.
My hand freezes with the key inside the keyhole. What?
It’s late, and clearly, my thoughts aren’t making sense.
Not only was I in a different time zone earlier today, but I had nearly twenty-eight minutes of ice time, which is more than average.
That’s the only valid reason as to why I’m falling for this make-believe stunt that Reese is actually my fiancée, and we’re going to live happily ever after in a house we choose together.
It’s not like I want that or anything.
I’m just helping out a damsel in distress by pretending to be her fiancée.
I chuckle to myself.
Reese is the furthest thing from a damsel.
If anything, this whole experience of living with a single mom will be entertaining, right?
The house is pitch black when I walk inside. I shut the door quietly and use my phone as a flashlight to make sure her sister isn’t lurking somewhere in the corner with a baseball bat, ready to attack me.
She scares me.
I slowly place my bag on the floor and scan the foyer.
It smells nice, and I can’t decide if it’s from the cleaning service I hired last minute or if it's an indication that Reese is somewhere near.
The thought that she isn’t here definitely crossed my mind, but I confirmed with the moving company that they did, in fact, deliver her things from her apartment.
After finding the downstairs empty, I make my way up the stairs.
It’s quiet, and I suspect that Reese, her daughter who I’ve still yet to meet, and sister are all sleeping.
Which is fine.
We can work out the rest of the logistics tomorrow over breakfast.
I head for the master bedroom.
Maybe I should get donuts for breakfast—a little ‘just engaged’ treat to tease Reese.
I turn the knob to my room.
Wait, do babies eat donuts? Do they have teeth yet? I don’t even know how old Reese’s daughter is. When I texted Daisy and asked her, she told me to ask Reese and followed it with a chicks before dicks text.
Very immature.
Almost as immature as my follow up text: bros before hoes.
I pull out my phone and shoot a quick message to Rhodes.
Me:
Do babies eat donuts?
He texts back before I even make it into the room.
Rhodes
You’re a moron.
The room is dark, and my eyes have yet to adjust. I reach for a light switch, searching the wall, but come up empty-handed.
“Where the hell is the light switch?" I mutter, angling my screen toward the wall for light.
A gasp comes from somewhere in the room, and I quickly turn around in the direction of it. My elbow hits something soft, and suddenly, I’m in a vortex of confusion with a yelp, blinding light, and a looming, headless figure coming right toward my face.
“Fuck.” I form a fist and punch whatever is attacking me.
A loud thud comes next, and I lurch backward, bumping into something else. I twist, and my hands fly forward to steady the next thing falling toward me.
My eyes adjust, my palms warm from Reese’s skin. She stands there in the skimpiest pair of pajamas that I have ever seen. The tank top ends above her belly button, and my hands remain wrapped around her bare waist.
“Jesus.” I glance over my shoulder to see a tattered mannequin laying on the floor, now with lopsided mounds for breasts from my attack. “What the hell is that?”
Reese shakes her head to clear the damp hair from her face. “What are you doing here?” She's breathless, and it takes just about every ounce of respect in my body not to drop my eyes to the cleavage peeking out from her tank top.
I raise a brow. “I live here…with my fiancée.”
Her long eyelashes flutter with confusion. “No, I…I know,” she stutters. “I mean…I thought you had a game.”
“Sometimes we fly back through the night.”
“Oh.” Her gaze drops to my hands still wrapped around her.
Mm, right. I remove my hands from her warm skin and bend to pick up my victim. The headless mannequin is wobbly when I place it up right.
“Don’t worry,” Reese brushes me off. “Stella was like that before.”
“You named it?”
Her dimples appear, and my chest constricts. She shrugs coyly while pulling on her tiny shorts.
I tear my eyes away and run a hand through my hair while searching the room.
It’s the same as it was before I left—my boxes still unopened in the corner—but now there’s an opened suitcase, a mannequin that nightmares are made of, and a shiny ring on top of the dresser that should be on Reese’s left finger.
My fatigue from earlier has long disappeared as Reese and I stare at each other. The warmth from touching her skin has given me energy to toy with her. If anything, maybe she’ll show off those dimples again before escaping to a different room.
“So…” I glance at the bed. “Sharing a bed with me tonight?”
Faint wrinkles of worry appear on her forehead. “What? No!”
I walk over to the dresser and lean against it. I unbutton the top two buttons of my dress shirt, eager to get out of my stiff clothing. “You can if you want.” I grip the edge of the dresser behind me and watch the prettiest shade of pink spread over Reese’s cheeks.
“I don’t!” she blurts. “I only came in here to get ready for bed. Zoe was in the other bathroom, so I used this one…” She looks nervous. “I’ll make sure to use the other one from now on.”
I tilt my head to the side. “You’re welcome to use this one whenever you want. This is your home too.”
Reese shifts on her feet. “No, it’s not.”
I narrow my gaze. “Yes, it is.”
She sighs and pops her hip out. Her arms move to cross against her chest. Thank God.
“This is your house,” she says, emphasizing the word your.
“Yeah…” I push off from the dresser and grab one of my boxes. I open the dresser drawer and dump the contents in there, gathering some clothes to change into. “But you’re my fiancée,” I remind her. “So, what’s mine is yours, babe.”
With my back to her, I start to unbutton my shirt. I peek at her through the mirror, but she’s staring down at her bare feet instead of at me. “I think you’re insane,” she mutters. “I can’t believe I’m going through with this.”
I shrug my shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. “Going through with what? Marrying me?”
“I’m not marrying you!” she shouts.
I turn around, and her jaw drops, right along with her eyes. She scans my chest, all the way down to my waist, and then back up to my face again. Her lips slam together, and she’s suddenly looking everywhere but at me.
“Most women would kill to be my fiancée. Fake or not.”
Reese darts over to her suitcase, shoving her clothes back inside. “Well, I’m not most women.”
That much is obvious.
Doesn’t she understand that’s the entire reason I’ve taken such an interest in her?
I have to hold back a laugh as she drags her suitcase and Stella over to the bedroom door. “What are you doing?”
She looks to the bed again, and then her eyes flit in a different direction. “I’ll sleep in the other guest room.”
I can’t help but smirk. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
I hum to myself, and she rolls her eyes.
Before she gets too far, I stride over to the door and call down the hall. “We have breakfast plans tomorrow.”
She stops walking, her spine straightening.
“Kitchen. Eight am. See you then, Dimples.”
I shut my door and head to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
The steam from her shower lingers, and the smell of her shampoo fills my head. I tell myself not to do it, but the last thing I think about before falling asleep is Reese and those teeny-tiny pajamas.