Page 148 of Power Play

“If you’re wearing that pink blazer of yours, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to hide.”

I laugh and pull a book out of my purse. “Don’t insult my blazer. It makes me feel like Superwoman.”

“I never insulted it.”

“I’m going to get you a matching one to wear to the arena. We can be twins.”

“Do it, Mitchell. I’ll wear the shit out of it.” He lifts his chin my way. “What are you reading today?”

“The guys asked the girls to join book club this month, and Riley picked one with a hockey player. Seems a little too close to home, but it’s good so far.”

“You really like reading that much?”

“Yeah. I love my job, but it’s nice to turn off my brain and sink into a world that’s nothere, you know?”

“Not really.” He leans forward and plucks the book from my hands. He pats his thighs and grins. “Come on over, Sunshine.”

“What?” I try to grab the book back, but he holds it over his head, out of reach. “You don’t care about my book.”

“I do now.” Liam pauses. “Will you read to me?”

My face softens as he watches at me with hopeful eyes. I’m out of my seat without a second thought, rounding the table and climbing into his lap. He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Do you want to see the page?” I ask gently. “Or just hear the words?”

“Hear the words, please. I’m a slow reader, and I don’t want to hold you up.”

“You wouldn’t be holding me up, Liam.” I reach up and touch his chin. “What are you most comfortable with?”

“Listening to you. And use your reporter’s voice when you read. It’s sexy.”

“My reporter’s voice?” I laugh again. “Do I have one of those?”

“You definitely do. Your tone gets all authoritative. Really pulls you in.”

“From the guy who doesn’t like interviews, you sure know a lot about how mine go.”

“I told you.” He hums and closes his eyes. “Observant.”

Liam linkshis hand through mine as we walk into the hotel hours later.

I know the affection is all for show, the grand finale of this plan of ours, but I like it when he touches me outside the bedroom. A brush of his shoulder in the tunnel. The graze of his glove when he jumps off the ice and heads to the locker room. His pinkie hooking in mine at the end of the night when I’m saying goodbye.

I’ve always craved physical touch, and a touch from him centers me. Calms me in a way words don’t. And when he rubs his thumb against the inside of my wrist in the middle of the lobby, I think we have a real shot at pulling this off.

“Liam!” someone shrieks.

A woman comes charging toward us, and the closer she gets, the more I can tell she’s the spitting image of the man next to me.

Same hook of her nose. Same hair texture and jawline.

She’s smiling more than him though, with a twinkle in her eye and a pep in her step I rarely see from him.

“Here we go,” he says under his breath, and I squeeze his palm in solidarity.

“I’m so glad you made it.” Alana throws her arms around his neck, breaking our contact, and I step back to give them a minute alone. “Don’t you ever go six months without seeing me again, you asshole.”

“Sorry, Lani.” He rubs his hands up and down her arms and kisses her forehead. “I’ve been a little busy.”

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