Page 44 of Puck Prince

Until her eyes narrow.

Fuck.

“What are you hiding?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Fake relationships are always a cover-up for something. So what are you covering up?”

“My reputation. Unnecessary attention.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re a hockey player. You love attention, good or bad.”

“Or—and I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out—maybe I love hockey. And I want to keep the focus on that. But what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

I hem in on her. “You’ve been acting pretty strange lately. It’s almost as if you have a secret life you don’t want anyone to know about.”

Callie’s face pales, the way it has been doing a lot lately. “What are you trying to say?”

“I was eavesdropping on your conversation with Coach earlier. I heard what he said about you being a risk more than an asset at this point. You have a reputation that apparently can’t stand another hit. His words, not mine.”

Callie clears her throat, straightening up. “It’s none of your business.”

“Which means those pictures aren’t just bad for me; they’re bad for you, too.”

Her mouth pops open. “Owen Sharpe, is that a threat?”

It wasn’t. I mean, that isn’t what I meant. But I’m realizing how that could work in my favor, and what else can I do but roll with it? I’m getting nowhere with her right now by any other methods.

I shrug. “Maybe. Fake date me, Callie. Pretend we’re together and put an end to the rumors.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll tell your uncle I was lying just to save face. And that I regret it because, in reality, you’ve been coming on to me ever since he hired you.”

“You wouldn't.” Her tone is low. Venomous.

“Watch me.” I step closer, close enough that my chest is rubbing against hers.

“That’s blackmail.”

“I guess it is.”

I stare down at her.

She glares up at me.

Her jaw deliberately tightens.

My pants involuntarily tighten.

God, she’s hot when she’s all worked up. I’d love to relieve some of that tension.

“Fine,” she finally says. “I’ll go along with your sick little game.”

“Yeah?”

---