Page 49 of Hockey Boy

But when it comes to Lennox, I’ll gladly play by the rules.

With my hand on her back, I guide her forward. “Let’s start with your father. He looks absolutely thrilled to see me.”

An unladylike snort leaves Lennox. God, I love the sound.

The house is larger than it looks from outside. Against one wall, a bar has been set up, and a line has formed. To the left of it is a DJ.

The Kennedys have certainly thought of everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if an up-and-coming musician is slated to perform tonight. That’s how these things normally go. Since this event is being thrown by the head of Kennedy records, I have no doubt the talent will be impressive.

Heavy gold and black curtains are draped along the walls, creating a speakeasy-type vibe. As we make our way toward Lennox’s father, the room goes silent. Every eye is locked on us, waiting to see what the Kennedy family heiress will do.

Lennox believes that she is a stain on her family’s reputation. In reality, they fear her because she can’t be controlled, and they have no fucking idea what she’ll do right now.

Her mother, Tia, is standing next to Jackson, but she still hasn’t noticed us. That’s probably a blessing. If Jackson Kennedy considers me an annoyance, Tia Kennedy doesn’t believe I should even breathe the same air as any member of their family. It’s a wonder Lennox is so kind and caring, with a mind of her own, unwilling to be molded into what they consider the perfect daughter.

“Hi, Mom,” Lennox says, gently grasping the woman by the shoulder.

As she turns toward her daughter, a smile tugs on her lips. It quickly falls, though, when she catches sight of me.

“Mrs. Kennedy, you look lovely,” I say, biting back the foolish smile I’m itching to break into in order to cut through the discomfort of this moment. It couldn’t be more clear how unwanted I am in this space.

“Yes, well, hello, Aiden. Lennox, I didn’t know you were bringing a friend with you tonight.”

Lennox clears her throat, but before she can respond, I butt in.

“Not a friend, Mrs. Kennedy. As you know, Lennox and I could neverjustbe friends.”

It may not be wise to irk them so early in the night, but when Lennox breaks out into a surprised smile, instantly twisting her lips to cover it, I know I’m playing this right.

“Jackson,” her mother says, her voice tight. She tugs on his arm, drawing him into the conversation. Or maybe she just needs an anchor so she doesn’t fall to her knees in despair over her precious daughter being seen with the likes of me again.

“Princess,” he says, taking Lennox in.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says.

It’s odd, the way they greet one another. For all the shit I’ve given my parents for being too busy when we were kids, my family has never been stingy when it comes to affection. My mom hugs us, my brothers and I hug each other too. Hell, hugging is my favorite thing to do, and I’m not going to change for these people. Maybe that’s all Jackson Kennedy ever really needed—a nice, big Aiden Langfield–style hug.

So when he holds out his hand to me, I can’t resist. I pull him in, and this isn’t a one clap bro hug. No, I grip him around both arms so he can’t escape my embrace and then I do a one-two step. There’s no stopping the dance moves when the mood strikes.

The snort behind me is obviously from Lennox.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Kennedy,” I say in his ear, and then because he’s so damn tense, I plant a big kiss on his cheek. “It’s been too long.”

As I pull back, Lennox’s shoulders shake with laughter, though she’s got a hand clamped over her mouth.

Though I expect to find her parents wearing angry or otherwise passive expressions, I’m surprised to find them smiling. Though it’s notat me. It’s clearly at someone right behind me.

I glance over my shoulder, and as I’m turning back to the Kennedys, prepared to go into the story of how Lennox and I are back together, the man’s face registers. Heart lurching, I spin and come face to face with the musician who asked my fake fiancée out on a date this week.

Somehow, I know that this won’t bode well for me.

“Ryder,” Jackson says in a far friendlier tone than he’s ever used with me. His smile is wide as he shakes the musician’s hand.

“Thanks for the invite.” He glances in Lennox’s direction, and his eyebrows raise, not like he’s surprised to see her, but like he’s excited.

Tia is smiling now too. Dammit. This just went from not good to a fucking disaster.

“I’m just happy that you finally said yes. I do believe you’ve met my daughter,” Jackson says, practically grabbing Lennox by the arm and pushing her in his direction.

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