Page 13 of Pretend Girlfriend

I didn’t have a witty response. I didn’t feel like making jokes now that the night was ending.

“I think I’d rather just go home,” I replied.

His phone chimed with a text message, and his eyes scanned the screen. Then he smiled. “Actually, I have a better idea. Why don’t you come with me?”

“To deal with your dumb work emergency?” I replied. “I’m just going to go home.”

He took my face in his hands and gave me a long, slow kiss. “I want you to trust me. Come to the office with me and you’ll understand.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see when we get there. My office is only two blocks away. Joanna, I promise you it will be worth it.”

I didn’t believe him. I felt deflated and just wanted to go home to watch the Blackhawks game. But a part of me, a very small part, was curious.

“Surely that earth-shattering orgasm earned me a little bit of trust,” Theo said.

“Let’s not get carried away. It was an average orgasm.”

“There was nothing average about the noises you made,” he replied with a goofy grin.

Against my willpower, a laugh escaped my throat. “Fine. Let’s go.”

I got dressed and we left the hotel. We weren’t arm-in-arm as we walked down the street this time; I was tense while waiting to see what could possibly be more important than staying in bed with me.

He led me into a stone pre-war office building and we took the elevator to the third floor. It was a dentist office, with the name etched into the glass door: Dr. Andrew Princeton, D.D.S.. An assistant was waiting in the lobby, but it wasn’t her that drew my eye.

Standing next to her was a man holding a bag of ice to his face. He was wearing hockey gear, and a red-and-white Blackhawks jersey.

“Doctor Manafort,” the assistant said. “I was going to prep room three.”

In the blink of an eye, Theo’s lighthearted demeanor fell away and an air of competence and control took over. “Let’s use room two. Easier cleanup when we’re done.”

“Right away, doctor.” She scurried away.

“I thought we agreed you’d keep your mouth guard in during fights,” Theo said.

The hockey player removed the ice pack from his face and gave a toothless, bloody grin. “You should see the other guy.”

“You’re Connor Bedard,” I breathed.

The hockey player frowned. “Who’s she?”

“This is Joanna,” Theo explained. “Your call interrupted our date, and I wanted to show her that it really was an emergency.”

“Sorry about that, doc. Didn’t mean to ruin your night…”

“No apologies. That’s why the team keeps me on retainer.” Theo gestured toward the dental assistant, who had returned. “Lexi will take you back to the room and prep you for surgery. We’ll get you all fixed up.”

“Thanks, doc.”

“That was Connor Bedard,” I exclaimed when we were alone again. “The Center for the Blackhawks!”

“Yep. Looks like he lost two central incisors on the top, and one on the bottom.”

“You didn’t tell me you’re the team doctor for the Chicago Blackhawks!”

“I only just inherited the job,” Theo explained. “My mentor, Doctor Andrew Princeton, has worked with the team for decades. He got a ring for being the team doctor when they won the Stanley Cup in 2015. He just retired. We’re still switching out all the monogrammed stuff for my name.”

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