Page 19 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

I casually slip in the last part, hoping it’s not too obvious. I’d like to think he wouldn’t be on a date with me if he was seeing someone, but with hockey players, you can never be too careful.

He chuckles, setting the champagne on the ground. “I don’t have a girlfriend, and I’m living in another state from my family, which my mother doesn’t like. We’re all really close, and as the oldest, it comes with lots of expectations that I’m unsure if I’m ready to handle. Which is one of the reasons I moved away in the first place.”

I place my hand on his arm. “Don’t sell yourself short. I might not know you well, but I can tell you’re more than capable of dealing with whatever it is,” I say.

“I appreciate it.” His hand covers mine, his thumb softly tracing circles on my skin. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but would you want to come back to my hotel? I’m here until Monday, and I’d like to spend more time with you.”

I should say no. After Jeremy, I swore off hockey players and dating altogether. But right now, I’m second-guessing that decision. What would be the harm in spending more time with Harrison? Like he said, he leaves on Monday—meaning no strings or expectations.

Harrison watches me expectantly, and the vulnerability in his eyes cements my decision.

“Alright, I’m in,” I agree.

He grins, wrapping his arm around me, drawing me closer. “Good choice. I was worried I might have to beg,” he says playfully.

Maybe hockey players aren’t so bad after all.

I glance over to where Harrison is still watching me. His gaze has softened, curiosity flickering in his eyes like he’s trying to figure out what’s on my mind.

I frown slightly, internally reprimanding myself for letting him affect me. It’s hard to ignore his undeniable magnetism when he’s close, especially with memories clawing to be set free and slipping out when I least expect them.

He clears his throat, his expression turning impassive as he picks up his phone, as if our exchange hadn’t fazed him at all.

“What else do you need, Fallon?” he asks, his eyes glued to the screen. “I have a long day ahead, and would like to eat my breakfast in peace.”

My temper flares, and I stand up, the chair scraping against the floor. “If you have certain times you’d like to eat or other requests related to your meals, you’ll go through me. No more messages from Cabrina,” I say as I head toward the kitchen, not giving him a chance to reply.

If we’re stuck living together, we’ll have to find a way to co-exist, at least somewhat peacefully.

I’m at my office, buried in a contract, when my phone chimes with a notification.

Stafford Siblings + Mom

Harrison: Cash, why did you change the name of the group chat?

Cash: Because “Stafford Siblings + Mom” was boring AF

Mom: Watch your language.

Presley: I’m impressed you’re up on your lingo, Mom.

Harrison: The last thing I need is to be in a meeting and “Parental Advisory” pops up on my phone.

Dylan: Way to be subtle, Mom.

Harrison: Can I leave the group now?

Mom: No. How is everything going with Fallon? Is she settling in okay?

Harrison: She’s fine.

Mom: Have you asked her?

Harrison: Yes.

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