Page 12 of Nash

CHAPTER 4

REESE

The Bangor Badgerstadium is packed, both with fans of the Badgers and the Vegas Golden Knights.

Monroe, Blakely, and I sit just behind the team box, and I have my camera out, recording our boys as they warm up.

The team looks like a unit, finally. There’s a camaraderie between them that wasn't there a year ago.

I make sure I record all the players, but I can't help but linger on Nash.

He glances up, catching me recording him doing a very suggestive stretch on the ice. His smile beams when he sees me, and he proceeds to move deeper into the stretch, his gear-clad legs spreading wide on the ice as he opens up his hips with subtle motions.

“Who knew he was such a ham for the camera?” I ask, unable to stop laughing.

“Who knew he could make you smile like that?” Monroe asks.

I gape at my friends. “What? We're playing roles for our new audience. That’s all.”

“Isthat all it is?” Blakely asks. “Because you can't deny there’s chemistry between you two.”

“Oh, I'm definitely not denying it,” I answer. “Whowouldn'thave chemistry with Nash Stokehill? He's ridiculously gorgeous, built like he was born for the ice, and has a sense of humor that can even get grumpy Clay Kiplin laughing.”

“All of those things are true,” Monroe says. “And you know we support you,” she continues. “We just want you to be careful.”

“Yeah, I dabbled in the game you’re playing, and ended up with the love of my life,” Blakely says, referencing the way she and Lawson got together. He’d helped her with her ex, acting as her boyfriend in order to get the guy to back off. It worked, but they fell hard and fast for each other.

“I really appreciate that,” I say, and totally mean it. There’s no world in which Iwouldn'ttell my friends about the arrangement I made with Nash, and I love them even more for supporting me. “But you and Lawson are different,” I continue, and my friends flash me skeptical looks. “You two fit. Me and Nash?” My heart skips a little at the thought. “We’ve barely been able to talk to each other without arguing before now.”

“And what about that New Year’s Eve kiss?” Monroe arches a brow at me as the players glide off of the ice, finishing their warmup, the event shifting into the pre-game hype phase.

Warmth pools beneath my skin at the memory—Nash’s lips on mine, his hands on my body. I’d never been kissed like that.

“Nash’s kiss is one I won’t be forgetting anytime soon,” I admit. “But just because he’s a good kisser doesn’t mean he’d be a good boyfriend. He’s not Lawson,” I say to Blakely. “He has no interest in real relationships. You both know him better than I do.” I shrug. “This is all business.”

They share a silent look that I do my best to ignore.

“Okay,” Blakely says. “I just want you to know we’re here. I’ve played the no-strings game before, and it can get intense. If you need us, we’ve got you.”

I smile at them. “Thank you,” I say, then wave them off. “We aren’t doing anything like that,” I continue. “We agreed to some PDA for the sake of the edits, but nothing more. It’ll be fine.”

The lights dim and after the introductions of players wrap up, we face off against the Golden Knights.

The game is intense. Both teams are battling it out on the ice like we’re in the playoffs rather than a regular season game. The hits are harder, the attempts more passionate, and the crowd is feeding off of it like the best of them.

It makes for incredible footage, but soon I find myself so wrapped up in the game I pocket my phone and focus as if my attention will help us win.

Nash gains possession of the puck, dodging Knights left and right, before sinking the puck against the net.

I cheer louder than I ever have before, and the camera isn't even on.

I chide myself, mentally noting for the next game to make sure one of my friends has the camera at some point to get me in the shot. But for now, I'm kind of hoping that Nash being the center of attention will be enough to keep our new followers content.

Either way, the enthusiasm isn’t for show. I’m genuinely proud of him, of the entire team as we beat the Knights by one.

The girls and I head to Clay’s house after the players file out of the stadium, showered and on a win-high. We beat some of the players there, and help Clay pull out food and drinks as the rest of the team and their friends start showing up.

Nash comes in after Pax and Lawson, his eyes lighting up when he spots me. The look does things to my body—excited, fluttery things that it has no business doing. I manage to get those feelings in check as he weaves through the crowd now filling Clay’s house.

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