Page 81 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

Aside from his bad choices in team-building activities, he was an incredible boss. He always made sure everyone’s voice was heard and gave us all a chance to shine.

I think because he caught a break early on in his career, he wants to provide others with the same opportunity. After he graduated culinary school, a celebrity chef dropped by the restaurant he worked at and was so impressed she requested to meet the chef. They had a long conversation, and she gave Theo her card before she left. Within two years, he’d opened his first restaurant.

Theo: We miss your attitude around here.

Fallon: As you should.

Theo: How’s everything going? Dare I say I’m shocked that you’re staying with Harrison.

Fallon: Don’t worry. I’m giving him a run for his money.

Theo: I have no doubt.

Theo: Just know that you have a job waiting if you want it.

Fallon: You’re the best, Theo.

It’s wild to think that just a few months ago I was living in London and still working for Theo. So much has changed since then, and something tells me this is only the start.

After the game, Harrison texts me, asking me to meet him in his office at the arena. He had an urgent work call with a potential client and needed somewhere quiet to take it. I didn’t even know he had an office here. It seems like he’s constantly working no matter where he is, leaving me to determine that he never actually has any downtime to relax.

Presley and Jack went home, citing an early morning tomorrow. I suspect they wanted some alone time, and I don’t blame them. The entire walk to find Harrison, my thoughts kept circling back to what happened in his bedroom the other night. I feel my cheeks flush when I think back to the look in his eyes when he watched me come.

When I get to Harrison’s office, the door is open. The space has exposed steel beams, polished concrete floors, and darkwood accents. I step inside to find Harrison at a walnut desk near an expansive window overlooking the arena.

“Just how many offices do you have?” I joke.

He glances up from his phone, smiling when he sees me. “I work more often than I don’t, and this is one of my favorite places to be. It’s even better when there’s a game or practice, and I can watch all the action from here.” He motions to the rink.

I stride across the room and perch on his desk, leaning back on my arms with my ankles crossed. “Isn’t it exhausting to work all the time?”

I take his phone from him and setting it to the side.

Harrison shrugs. “That’s the downside of running a company. I’m always on the clock.” He looks up at me quizzically. “I’m glad you’re back to your usual self. I was missing your sass the last few days.”

“I appreciate you giving me some time to think things through.”

With a raised brow, he cocks his head. “Do you need more time?”

I shake my head. “I’m right where I want to be.”

There’s no telling where this might lead, but I’m done pretending I don’t want Harrison. Even if it’s temporary, I’d rather embrace our physical attraction than act like it doesn’t exist.

With a low growl, he tugs the hem of the jersey, drawing me closer. “Fuck, Fallon, you look damn good in my jersey.”

“I do,” I answer smugly, tapping my chin. “Although I think I might look even better in Aleksandr’s. Black and gold are my colors,” I tease. “You wouldn’t happen to still have it, would you? I’d love to try it on again.”

It’s clear I’ve struck a chord when Harrison moves forward in his chair, pulling me to the edge of the desk, his hands resting firmly on my waist.

“What did I say about wearing another man’s jersey?”

I tilt my head, pursing my lips, pretending to mull it over. “I can’t seem to recall.”

“Then let me refresh your memory. The only jersey you’ll be wearing is mine.” His mouth grazes my neck, his warm breath making my skin prickle. “Tell me, when you’re lying in bed at night, whose face do you imagine is between your thighs, making you come?”

I inhale sharply, squeezing my thighs as he tilts my chin, peppering kisses along my jawline. He gets to my mouth, and I moan softly when he traces his tongue along the edge. Unable to resist, I tug his lower lip between my teeth, and what starts as gentle exploration erupts into wild, frenzied passion. I’m aware of the faint, metallic taste of blood from biting down hard.

“Fuck,” Harrison groans. “I want you.”

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