Page 52 of Rinkmates

And just like that, there’s a flicker of understanding between us. Maybe she sees more than just the hockey player with a temper. Maybe she sees someone who’s trying to do better, someone with vulnerabilities and scars. Because fuck, that’s what I am.

“So, what picture do we post?” she asks, changing the subject lightly, and I’m glad she did.

“I think my ex-plumber just decided what our ‘grand reveal’ looks like. How about we wait until his photo hits the gossip rags, then post the one with you kissing my cheek? Unless you want me to go after him and get the pic deleted.”

I look at her with pure honesty. I would do anything she asks me.

“No. It will be good PR wise. Any press about us is good press, right? And I like the one where you’re looking at me like you’re inlove,” she teases gently, dragging out the wordlove.

I snort. “That’s not love. That’s called ‘tolerating your antics.’”

She chuckles softly. “Tomato, tomahto. But I’d definitely pick that one.”

I prepare the Instagram post and use that photo as my phone’s background. Next, I call my therapist. I need to talk to him about Liora. The situation is getting out of hand.

Of course,that slippery skunk sold the pic.

Ethan called me the minuteUS Lifepublished it.

The caption wasTikTok Hottie Riley Huntington Spotted in Steamy PDA with rumored Olympic Athlete Girlfriend!

Ethan asked if my fake girlfriend had turned into a real one and reminded me of the contract. I told him it was staged. But was it? Liora and I keep pretending it is—or rather, we pretend it never happened—and I’m fine with it. Turns out, if I can’t have someone I want, I immediately turn into a jerk and channel all that pent-up energy into being annoyed by practically everything she does.

My therapist said it’s a tactic to keep me from shouting my feelings at her. I told him I definitely don’t have any feelings for her, and his chuckle on the phone made me want to hang up. But I didn’t because I’m trying to change. Still, it’s driving me insane.

I’m starting to think I should just sleep with her because maybe I’m pushing her away due to my mood swings rather than risking breaking her heart since I don’t do girlfriends. It’s like choosing between pests or cholera while I try to relax in the tub. The practice for the play-offs was intense and all my muscles are sore, so my physician suggested a bath with some kind of herbs.

My phone buzzes on the table next to my tub.

Bladezilla: Come out of that damn bathroom!

I check the door. She’s banging on it, and I realize the music was so loud I didn’t hear her. My bad.

Riley: Nope. Living my spa prince dream right now. Bubbly bath and cucumber mask and all that shit. I learned from you, baby.

And all those hours of blow-drying that hair.

Bladezilla: You’ve got ten seconds to open that door! I need to get to set for our costume fittings.

Riley: Or what?

Bladezilla: Or I’ll donate your PS5.

My heart drops in my pants. She wouldn’t. I’d lose all my trophies.

Riley: Does your mom know she gave birth to the devil?

Bladezilla: I’ll contact Nina, I bet she’d love to donate it for us.

I run to the door and yank it open so that she’s satisfied. But I do it naked.Here you go, princess.“Pleased?”

Her eyes widen, moving from the tattoos on my arm downstairs and looking at my shampooed abs, my dick, my balls, and even though I don’t have any problems with that, since I’m packed and I know it, she seems to have the shock of her life. And fuck, I turn around and grab a towel because I can’t have her know she can give me a boner just looking at my cock.

“Is this the first time you’ve seen a proper dick?” I ask, trying to hide the way I blush.

“No,” she grunts. “No, please get out of here. I really need to get ready, Ri.”

“Okay, okay.” I wink at her. “Don’t get off on the thought of showering in the same spot as I do.”

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