Page 79 of Beautiful Collide

Dane sits across from me, watching me a little too closely. I know that look. He’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.

“You’ve been pulling a lot of late nights,” he says casually like he isn’t trying to pry.

“I’ve been busy.” I shrug, lifting the mug back to my lips. The coffee isn’t the best. It’s not awful—but it’s stronger than I like. “Someone has to keep your life from imploding.”

He snorts. “I could hire someone else, you know. Someone who insists on taking their vacation time.”

“I went to Europe last summer.”

“Only ’cause I forced you.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, you can try to replace me.” I smirk. “But good luck finding someone who’ll juggle your schedule, deal with your sponsors, and pick up your dry cleaning without strangling you.”

Dane laughs, and the tension eases. “Fair point. You’re irreplaceable, I guess.”

“Obviously.” I lean back in my chair, keeping my voice light even as my chest tightens again.Don’t let him see it. Don’t let him know.

Dane studies me, his brow furrowing slightly. “You know you don’t have to do everything, right? You could take a break. Breathe for a bit.”

His words make me flinch, but I cover it quickly with a sip of coffee. “I’m fine,” I respond, a little sharper than I mean to. “Really, Dane. I’m good. You don’t need to worry about me.”

He hesitates, his gaze lingering on me like he isn’t sure whether to believe me. But after a long pause, he nods. “Okay. But if you need anything, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course,” I lie again.

I’m going to hell.

The last thing he needs to know is that I’m barely keeping it together. He’ll ask too many questions.

It’s easier this way.

Much easier.

He finally smiles, easy and wide. Something he’s been doing more and more since he met Josie. “Good. Because I was thinking about adding social media to your to-do list.”

I laugh. “Finally. Did Josie convince you?”

“Um.” He leans back. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ll love the job too. Josie had a great pitch of all the fantastic posts you can make.” He rolls his eyes before continuing. “She painted a pretty picture.”

“Such as?”

“She said you could write ‘Dane Sinclair: Hockey’s Golden Boy—or Just a Guy Who Can’t Remember His Passwords?’”

Despite myself, I laugh, shaking my head. “Please, tell me Josie didn’t come up with that.”

“She didn’t. I just forgot what she said and tried to shoot from the hip. I failed.”

“You’d be lost without me, brother.”

“Probably,” he admits with a laugh of his own.

For a second, it feels normal. The laughter and the teasing almost make me believe that everything will be fine.

But deep down, I know better. I’m not okay. Not really. But as long as Dane believes I am, I can keep pretending.

27

Molly

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