Chapter 9
NINE
CJ
“Busy day?”
Olivia lets out a nervous breath. “Yeah, busy, but good.”
“Can I take you out to dinner?” I ask her hopefully.
“Oh, um…”
“Come on. You have to eat.”
She sighs and relents. I grin like I just blocked a goal and won the whole game. Then I take her hand and lead her out of the youth center.
We head around the corner to the pizza place and slide into a booth in the back. Olivia grabs a menu, but I lean back in my seat. I can’t stop looking at her.
My inviting her out to dinner was supposed to be a casual event, some pizza, low stakes, nothing like the gala with donors breathing down our necks. Just me and her, tucked into a booth with some food between us, but Olivia Walker in soft lighting? Yeah, nothing about that feels casual.
I’m falling for her. I think I fell the first moment I saw her.
Now, how do I get her to fall for me?
I’ve never tried to win a woman over before, and now I have no idea what I’m doing or who to turn to for help. None of the other guys on the team is in a relationship. None except for Logan, and he got lucky by winning his girl, Violet.
“How was practice?” Olivia asks me, setting the menu aside.
“Rough. Coach put us through the wringer. We have a game this weekend to get ready for.”
“Is it here in town or are you traveling?”
“It’s a home game. You should come. I’ll get you tickets.”
She blinks. “Oh, you don’t have to go through all that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Okay.”
I grin. Progress. Maybe my plan to make this fake dating thing real is working after all.
The server comes over and we order a large pizza with pepperoni. Once he’s gone, I lean closer to Olivia and ask her how her day was.
She tells me about getting caught up on work and creating a new budget with the money raised last night. She’s so passionate about it, and I find myself hanging on her every word.
Our food comes, and we each eat a few slices. It’s starting to rain outside, so I pay and head out to pull the car up to the door so Olivia doesn’t get wet.
“Thanks,” she says when she slides into the passenger seat.
“No problem. Where to?” I ask, pulling away from the curb.
She stifles a yawn. “My place.”
We drive back to her apartment in comfortable silence. My hand finds hers, and she smiles slightly, relaxing as I interlace our fingers.
“You know, I’ve never actually seen your place,” I say as I pull up to the curb outside.
“There’s not much to see.”
“Hmm, I’d like to be the judge of that.”
Olivia looks at me out of the corner of her eye and sighs. “Would you like to come up?”
“Sure, I’d love to,” I chirp.
She laughs, rolling her eyes as she gets out of the car and rushes through the rain to the front door. She unlocks it, and we both hurry inside.
My pulse kicks as we climb the stairs. She unlocks the door, and I step inside, taking in the small space that feels so her.
Stacks of grant proposals on the table. A candle that smells like vanilla and determination.
A bookshelf that’s seen better days but crammed with dog-eared novels and binders labeled with things like Fundraising Ideas and Tutoring Schedules.
“Nice,” I say honestly. “Cozy. Feels like… home.”
“It is. For now.” She looks around her place with a critical eye.
I can’t resist her any longer. I take a step towards her and then another, closing the distance quickly.
She stares up at me, and I wait for some sign that she wants this. When she licks her lips, letting out a shaky exhale, I pounce and kiss her. Slow at first, testing. She sighs against my mouth and kisses me back, and I think, yeah, this, this is all I want.
Then she pulls back, her hands flattening against my chest. “CJ, wait, we need to talk.”
Those five words are the hockey equivalent of hearing the buzzer go off right before a penalty shot. My stomach drops.
“Uh oh,” I say lightly, trying to joke, but the way her eyes dart away tells me this isn’t a joke kind of conversation.
I sit down on the edge of her couch, heart pounding in my ears. “Okay. Hit me.”
She stays standing, arms wrapped around herself. “I don’t know what this is,” she admits softly. “Us. This… thing between us. It started as fake dating for PR, and now—” She shakes her head. “Now it doesn’t feel fake, and that scares me.”
For once, I don’t try to charm her out of it. Instead, I stand, close the space between us, and pull her into my arms. She stiffens for a beat, then melts into me like she was always meant to be here.
“It’s not fake,” I murmur against her hair. “Not for me. Not one second of it. I’m falling for you, Liv. Hell, I’ve fallen already. That’s the truth.”
Her breath hitches. She tips her head back, eyes shining like she’s fighting herself. Then, in the smallest voice, she says, “It’s not fake for me either.”
Relief crashes through me like a clean save. I cup her jaw, tilt her face up to mine, and kiss her again, deeper this time, with everything I’ve been holding back. She kisses me back with the same desperate honesty, and I know, without a doubt, that the lines are gone.
This is real.
We’re real.
Thank fuck.