Page 111 of The Fake Out

“I would, though,” I add quietly. “Like you if you were a gym teacher, that is.”

His expression softens as he searches my eyes.

“You’re a catch. And you’d be a catch even if you didn’t play hockey.”

Rory Miller is so much more than a hockey player, but I don’t know how to say that without spilling everything to him.

He takes a deep breath like he wants to say something, but instead, his throat works and he just smiles. I don’t know how to categorize this one; it’s sweet, affectionate, and wistful. He’s gorgeous when he shows me this smile.

Rory brings his mouth to my ear before he gives me the lightest nip on my earlobe, and my breath catches. “Love it when you pump up my ego like this, Hartley.”

My stomach flutters. “Like you need it.”

He presses a kiss to my temple, warming me with another quiet laugh. “From you? I need it.” His voice goes low and liquid, and there’s another flutter low in my belly.

“Maybe later tonight, you can show me what else you’re good at, besides hockey.”

His eyes flare with heat but he shakes his head. “That’s not happening tonight.”

I balk. “Why not?”

“You need to rest.”

I hold his gaze, challenge rising in my eyes as my mouth slides into a knowing smile. “We’ll see.” I bring my lips to his ear, lowering my voice. “There are a couple pieces you sent that you still haven’t seen.”

His eyes dip to my mouth, darkening, but he pulls his gaze away, taking a deep breath like he’s trying to block out the dirty thoughts of what we did last night.

“Hartley,” he groans. “Please don’t make me hard in public.”

I just chuckle, turning back to the conversation at our table.

“We fly out tomorrow night,” Pippa says to Hayden, gesturing at Jamie, Rory, and me. “Although,” her eyes linger on me as she chews her bottom lip, “I don’t think you should go anymore.”

“What?” My jaw drops in outrage. “I’m not missing Christmas.”

“Pippa’s right,” Rory says in a firm, no-nonsense tone, that heartbreaking worry back in his gaze. “They’ll have snow in Silver Falls and I don’t want you to slip on your crutches.”

Disappointment flows through me in waves. I’ve never missed Christmas with my family, and all those images I daydreamed about that included Rory? Gone.

His fingers tense on my waist. “I’ll stay at your place and take care of you.”

My heart lifts, not knowing what to say as I look up into his pretty blue eyes.

“Don’t be stubborn, Hartley,” he adds, watching me like he hopes I’ll say yes.

“Okay.” I nod, blowing out a nervous breath. He’s going to bestaying with me. Not just crashing in my bed. This is getting more real by the day. “I’d like that.”

He smiles again, softer this time, and gives me a gentle kiss. “Good,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’m going to make you rest, Hartley, even if I have to tie you to the bed.”

My eyebrows wiggle and I grin against his mouth, and from his huff of laughter, he likes that idea just as much as I do.

* * *

After convincing Rory I don’t need him to carry me to and from the ladies’ room, I make my way back through the crowded bar to our table.

I bump into someone, and a wave of hot beer breath hits me in the face.

“Hey.”