Chapter Fourteen
Simon
The roar of the crowd was deafening, the atmosphere in the arena electric with tension.
I leaned forward in my seat, close enough to the glass that I could see the scratches in the ice from the players’ blades.
I’d attended games before with Kurt and it was always a thrill, but tonight was something else entirely—the kind of edge-of-your-seat experience that made you forget everything outside these walls.
The Lynx were battling a team from Jersey, and they were tough.
The game had been brutal from the opening whistle—hard checks that rattled the boards, high-speed rushes up and down the rink, bodies crashing into each other with bone-jarring force.
Now, with forty seconds left on the clock, the score was deadlocked.
Beside me, Raina was equally transfixed, her eyes tracking every movement on the ice. Despite the intensity of the game, I found my attention drifting to her for what had to be the hundredth time tonight.
I’d never seen her dressed so casually. Gone were the silk blouses and tailored pants and skirts she wore at the office.
Tonight, she was in fitted jeans and a Lynx jersey that somehow managed to make her look even more appealing than her professional attire.
Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she wore barely any makeup, just enough to make her blue eyes seem impossibly bright.
She was utterly beautiful, but it was more than that.
She was relaxed in a way I’d never witnessed before.
For the past three hours, she’d been yelling herself hoarse, leaping to her feet at every good play, groaning dramatically at every missed opportunity.
She’d devoured a giant soft pretzel dripping with cheese, followed by a hot dog, followed by a bucket of popcorn that she’d generously shared with me.
I had no idea where she put all that food, but I’d always been attracted to women with healthy appetites who weren’t afraid to actually enjoy themselves.
I was starting to realize I was attracted to a lot of things about this woman.
Just sitting next to her was a distraction from the game, and for once, I didn’t mind.
My decision to stop fighting my feelings had been liberating in the best possible way.
Instead of constantly suppressing my attraction and constantly reminding myself why wanting her was inappropriate, I could simply…
enjoy being near her and notice the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was focused.
Appreciate the curve of her smile when something delighted her.
Let my gaze linger without immediately forcing it away.
I knew getting involved with my employee was a risk, not to mention my best friend’s sister. A significant one. But my desire for her had grown larger than the potential consequences, and that alone told me something important.
I didn’t take risks like this. Ever. In business, I was calculated. Methodical. I weighed every decision against potential outcomes, never moved forward without a clear understanding of what I stood to gain or lose. It was how I’d built my success. Careful strategy over reckless impulse.
But Raina made me want to throw caution aside. Made me willing to accept whatever fallout might come, just for the chance to be closer to her.
That should have terrified me. Instead, it felt inevitable.
“Go, go, go!” Raina shouted, and my head snapped forward to see what had claimed her attention.
The puck was a black blur, passed rapidly between players as the Lynx pushed toward the opposing net. They had possession, and they were making a desperate final attempt to break the tie before time expired.
Miles was directly in front of us when the puck came his way. He pivoted hard, his blades sending a spray of ice hissing against the glass inches from my face.
Both Raina and I leapt to our feet, my own pulse quickening as I tracked the play, breath held as Miles drove toward the goal.
His teammates moved like a well-oiled machine, blocking the defensemen who tried to intercept.
The rink was chaos—bodies colliding, sticks clashing—but I kept my focus locked on Miles.
The clock on the jumbotron showed five seconds remaining.
The air itself seemed to compress. My eyes burned because I didn’t want to blink or miss even a fraction of a second of the game.
Miles stopped in front of the net, the opposing team closing in fast. There was no time for hesitation. He drew back his stick and swung.
The crack of impact cut through the roar of the crowd.
Or maybe it was just so vivid in my mind that it drowned out everything else.
The puck launched into the air, a dark streak moving almost too fast to follow.
It rose toward the top left corner of the net.
The goalie lunged, his gloved hand stretching desperately—
Not fast enough. The puck sailed past him and buried itself in the back of the net. For one breathless second, the entire arena seemed to gasp as one.
Then it erupted in cheers.
I shouted along with everyone else. Beside me, Raina was clapping and bouncing on the balls of her feet, her face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy.
When she turned and spontaneously threw her arms around my neck, I didn’t hesitate.
I lifted her off her feet, my arms wrapping around her waist like they belonged there.
She was warm and solid against me, laughing into my shoulder, and for that moment, nothing else existed.
Not the crowd, not the game, not the complicated reality waiting for us outside these walls.
Just her in my arms, exactly where she fit.
A violent rattling against the glass made us both turn. Three Lynx players had slammed themselves against the boards directly in front of us, celebrating with the wild abandon of men who’d just pulled off the impossible.
Raina laughed—bright and unrestrained—and I found myself joining her, the sound surprising me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like this, but it felt good.
After the players finished their interviews and showered, Miles met us outside the locker room.
I’d encountered him a few times before at games with Kurt, so introductions weren’t necessary.
He invited us to join him and a few teammates for dinner, and Raina’s eager expression made my decision easy.
Besides, who would turn down the chance to spend an evening with the men you cheered for every week during hockey season?
The restaurant Miles chose was a low-key place with a private room in the back.
A smart call, because even walking through the main dining area drew stares.
The Lynx were celebrities in this city. Last year’s Stanley Cup victory had generated endless media coverage, and I’d heard Miles mention how the fame was a double-edged sword.
Lucrative sponsorship deals on one hand; zero peace in public on the other.
But dinner was relaxed. Raina and I sat side by side across from Miles and two of his teammates, and conversation flowed easily.
The players shared stories about life on the road.
The grueling away-game schedules, the strange hotels, the inside jokes that developed when you spent that much time together.
Raina contributed her own stories, most of them embarrassingly detailed accounts of her brother’s younger years. His teammates howled with laughter while Miles grumbled under his breath, though I caught the affection in his eyes when he looked at her.
She was close to him. Just like she was close to Kurt. I liked that about her, that she valued family and maintained those bonds even as life pulled people in different directions.
I had two brothers and a sister, and they were among the most important people in my life.
Many of the women I’d dated came from wealthy families with complicated dynamics—strained relationships, long-standing grudges, or worse, complete estrangement.
I didn’t know if it was something about their social standing or if I’d simply had a talent for choosing women whose values differed drastically from my own.
Either way, it had always been a factor in why those relationships never progressed past casual.
Miles seemed at ease, laughing at his teammates’ jokes and stealing food off Raina’s plate in the way only siblings could get away with. But his sharp eyes also moved between the two of us more than once, and I could practically see the questions forming behind them.
Despite this being an ideal opportunity to practice our cover story, Raina and I weren’t acting like a couple. No lingering touches, no flirtatious banter. We were comfortable together, that much was genuine, but there was nothing romantic about our interactions.
I couldn’t quite stop myself from stealing glances at her, though. The way the low light in the restaurant caught in her hair. The animated way she talked with her hands. The cute dimple that appeared in her left cheek when she laughed.
But her brother clearly noticed my growing infatuation with her.
“So.” Miles set down his fork, his gaze sharpening as it fixed on me. “What’s going on between you two?”
His posture had shifted—shoulders squared, jaw tight. The easygoing hockey player from moments ago had been replaced by something more guarded and protective.
“Are you here as boss and employee?” he pressed. “Or is there more to this?”
A frown creased his brow, and his tone made it clear he wasn’t sure he liked either answer. I was tempted to confirm that yes, there was more, and not just for the sake of the story we’d told Alexander. But Raina spoke first.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
Miles’s frown deepened into something that bordered on a scowl.