Chapter 6
SIX
Olivia
My mom drilled a rule into me before she passed. She told me not to mistake sparks for fire. Sparks are quick, hot, and dangerous. Fire is steady and reliable, warming you when the nights are cold.
Last night with CJ? Sparks. Enough to light up the whole damn block.
Which is why I spent the rest of the night pacing my apartment and reminding myself of the second half of the rule. Sparks burn you if you get too close.
I shouldn’t want to get burned, but something about CJ has me convinced I might like it. Heck, it might be worth it.
It took me most of the morning to get that thought out of my head, and by the time I show up at the youth center this afternoon, I’ve convinced myself I’m fine.
The gala is over, donations came in, and the crisis has been delayed.
He did his job, I did mine. End of story.
We don’t have to pretend to date or interact that much ever again.
Except the kids swarm him like he’s Santa Claus in a goalie mask the second he walks through the door, and I find myself wishing I could do the same.
“CJ, you were on TV!” Malik crows, holding up his phone like a victory flag. “You danced with Miss O! Everyone saw it.”
My face heats instantly. “Malik—”
“Did you kiss?” Bea demands, wide-eyed.
CJ chokes on his laugh, hand pressed to his chest. “Wow. Straight for the jugular.”
“Answer the question!” she insists.
“No kissing,” I say firmly, shooting CJ a glare. “It was work.”
“Boring,” Bea mutters, then skips off toward the art table.
CJ leans against the wall near me, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Just work, huh?”
“Shut up,” I grumble.
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement, but he doesn’t push. Which, somehow, is worse.
“Have you counted all the donations yet?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, we’ll have enough to cover utilities and rent for a while. Some breathing room.”
“Good. Now, what are we going to do for dinner tonight, babe?”
“Don’t call me babe,” I warn him.
“Baby.”
“No.”
“Pumpkin?”
“CJ!”
“That’s my name, Princess Angel Baby. I think calling you that will get too confusing.”
“Oh, my god.”
I stomp off, ignoring his laugh as I go.
We spend the first hour helping kids with homework, and despite my best efforts, I keep sneaking glances at him.
He’s crouched beside Malik at one point, breaking down a math problem by drawing tiny hockey nets on the paper. “See? Three shots on goal, one goes in. That’s one-third. Boom. Fractions.”
Malik rolls his eyes but writes it down.
Later, CJ sits at a table with Bea, listening intently while she explains her story about a dragon who runs a bakery. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t laugh; he just nods and asks, “What’s the dragon’s favorite pastry?” like it’s the most important question in the world.
And I… I can’t stop watching.
I can’t stop wanting him.
If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been intrigued by him since the first time he walked into my office, and that feeling has only grown. It’s not simply intrigue or curiosity anymore. I like him. I might even be falling for him.
No! I scold myself. That’s crazy. You barely know him.
After the kids are picked up and the gym is quiet again, we’re left stacking chairs. The clatter echoes too loudly in the empty room.
“So,” he says casually, “we should probably plan the follow-up.”
I glance over. “Follow-up to what?”
“The fundraiser. PR wants us to keep the momentum. Social media posts, interviews, maybe another event.” He sets a chair on the stack with a clang. “Also, our second date. Why don’t we go grab dinner and talk about it?”
My stomach flips, half of me dreading it, the other half excited to spend more time with him that way. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“Hey, I’m just the goalie. I don’t make the plays, I block the shots.” He shrugs. “But… it could help the center. More donors, more visibility.”
He’s right. Damn him.
I run a hand through my hair. “Fine,” I say, trying with all my might to keep things between us as the status quo.
“Great! What are you hungry for?”
“I’m not,” I tell him at the exact second my stomach growls, proving me a liar.
“Pizza or burgers?”
I sigh. “Burgers.”
“Great! Let’s go.”
He takes my hand and drags me out of the center, pausing long enough for me to lock the center doors, and then we’re off again.
He pulls me over to his car and opens the passenger door for me.
“Thanks,” I mumble, and he nods.
The burger place is just around the corner, and we could have walked, but it’s cold out, so I don’t argue as he steers us down the street toward the restaurant. We park, and he hurries to open my door again.
“You’re laying it on a little thick,” I tell him as he takes my hand and helps me out of the car.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My parents raised me to treat a woman with respect.”
“Uh-huh.”
“They did!” he insists. “They’d be rolling in their graves if I didn’t open your doors and kiss you goodnight.”
“They did not say kiss her goodnight!”
“Okay, maybe not that.”
“Wait…they passed away?” I ask softly.
His smile dims. “Car accident when I was twenty-one.”
“I’m so sorry, CJ,” I whisper.
“Thanks.”
He opens the restaurant door for me, and I breathe in the scent of grilled meat and fresh-baked bread.
“Table for two,” CJ tells the hostess.
“Of course,” she purrs.
She shoots me a glare before she flips her hair over her shoulder and leads us to a table by the wall. CJ reaches out and takes my hand, interlacing our fingers. When I look up at him, he smiles down at me happily.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach as I return his smile. He squeezes my hand and then releases it so he can pull my chair out for me.
“Thanks.”
He nods and drops into the chair next to me.
“We should talk about the next event,” I suggest.
“Sure, after we order.”
He passes me a menu, and I scan it, deciding on the classic cheeseburger and fries.
“Do you know when the fundraiser will be?” I ask, setting my menu aside.
“Soon. I’ll get with PR to finalize details tomorrow.”
The server comes over, and CJ lets me choose first before placing his order. Once the server has left, he shifts, angling his body toward me and giving me all his attention.
I’m not used to having someone’s undivided attention, and definitely not someone as attractive as CJ. My pulse races, and I lick my suddenly dry lips. That turns out to be a bad idea because it draws CJ’s attention, and when his eyes lock on my mouth, my whole body goes up in flames.
“So, tell me about yourself.”
“Why?” I ask.
He smiles faintly. “I should know in case someone asks. Gotta keep up the fake dating ruse, right?”
I take a deep breath. “I was born here in Maple Creek. What about you?”
“Chicago.”
“When did you move?”
“I left for college. Went to Michigan and was drafted. I spent a year in New York before I was picked up by the Thunder here in Maple Creek.”
“Did you like New York?”
“It was fine. I wasn’t there long. What about you?”
“I was born and raised here. I left for college and went to California, then I moved back here after.”
He frowns. “Didn’t like California?”
I shrug. “This place is my home.”
“What about family? Any siblings?”
“No. You?”
“No. How’d you land on a career as a youth center director?”
“I always liked kids. I initially wanted to be a teacher, but when I got to college, things changed. I remembered the youth center from when I was a kid, so I switched my major and decided to go into the charity and philanthropic sector.”
“That’s cool. Very noble of you.”
“Thanks,” I say drily. “What about you? Was it always hockey?”
“Oh, yeah. My parents said I was skating before I learned to walk. I would race home, lace up my skates, and go practice. My parents would have to yell at me to get me to come in once it was dark.”
“Pure love,” I murmur.
“It was. Still is.”
“You’re lucky to have always known what you wanted and to be able to do it every day,” I tell him.
“I know.”
Our food is dropped off, and we both dig in.
We talk about favorite colors, seasons, and vacations.
I relax as CJ tells me funny stories about his childhood and his teammates.
My brain turns off from worrying about bills and grants, and for the first time in forever, I allow myself to fully live in the moment. I’m… happy.
CJ pays the bill and stands, taking my hand and leading me out to his car. A few fans spot him, and he stops to take pictures and sign autographs. Then he heads back to me and opens the passenger door, helping me into the seat.
“Where to?” he asks as he climbs behind the wheel.
I fasten my seatbelt. “You can drop me off at the center.”
“Is your car there? I didn’t see any others in the lot when we left.”
“No, I walked today, but I can walk home.”
He scoffs. “Not a chance, Princess Angel Baby.”
“It’s fine, and don’t call me that,” I remind him.
He shakes his head, starts up the car, and reverses out of the parking spot. “Which way?”
I give him directions back to my place. Five minutes later, he pulls up out front, and I unbuckle quickly.
“I’ll walk you in.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” I insist, but he’s already climbing out of the car.
CJ opens my door, and I dig my keys out of my purse. We head up the front steps of my apartment building in silence, and he follows me up the stairs to the second floor.
“Thanks for tonight,” I tell him as we stop outside my apartment. “I had fun.”
“Anytime.”
We’re silent for a minute as I shove the key into the lock.
“Are you going to invite me in?”
I snort. “Not a chance.”
“Oh,” he says, all mock innocence.
I huff out a laugh.
His smile slips slightly as he leans in. “I meant to tell you earlier… You were good last night. Better than me. You handled those donors like you’ve been doing it for decades.”
His compliment catches me off guard. “It’s my job.”
He shakes his head. “It’s more than that. You made them believe. You made me believe.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my throat tight. I don’t know what to do with CJ Morgan when he’s like this, unguarded and honest. “So were you.”
“High praise from you, Walker.” He grins, then tilts his head. “Want to know a secret?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do I?”
“I was terrified the whole time.”
“You? Terrified?” I ask in shock. “I’d think you would be used to things like that.”
“Nope, I’m never at ease with it.” He leans against the wall, arms folded. “Everyone watching, waiting for me to screw up. I kept thinking, what if I can’t pull this off? What if I make you look bad?”
Something tugs hard in my chest. “You didn’t.”
“Because you were there,” he says simply.
The words land heavier than they should. I swallow, looking away. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it blurs the lines,” I whisper.
He slowly steps closer, like he’s testing the ice. “Maybe the lines are supposed to blur.”
I shake my head. My pulse is a drum in my ears.
“Olivia,” he says, voice low now, all the playfulness stripped away. “Tell me you don’t feel it, and I’ll back off.”
The air between us hums, electric and undeniable. I should tell him no. I should protect myself, but when I look up and meet his eyes, the truth slips out in a whisper. “I feel it.”
His hand brushes mine tentatively, and my breath catches. Then… he kisses me.
It’s not a show kiss. Not staged or careful. It’s hungry and soft all at once, his mouth capturing mine with a kind of reverence that makes my knees weak.
I clutch his shirt like I need something to hold on to. He deepens the kiss, one hand cupping the back of my neck, and for a moment, I forget my mom’s rule and every other rule I ever made.
I can’t remember why keeping my distance from CJ seemed like a good idea.
His body presses against mine, all hard lines and hot skin. I sink against him, loving how stable he feels against me.
He moans, his tongue slipping into my mouth, and I cling to him tighter, pouring every ounce of feeling inside me into our embrace.
“Liv,” he groans against my mouth.
I whine, actually whine, as I pull him back down to me.
He comes happily, kissing me back, his hands sliding down to my hips and squeezing as he tugs me closer.
I’m lost in him, in us, and I never want to find my way out. For the first time in forever, I’m doing something for me, and it feels damn good.
When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, my heart pounding.
“This is probably a mistake,” I say hoarsely.
“Probably,” he agrees, his forehead resting against mine. “But it’s the best one I’ve ever made.”
I nod before I can stop myself, and God help me, I kiss him again.