Page 42 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

“I always keep my promises,” he whispers.

A sense of calm washes over me at hearing the sincerity in his voice. I believe him. Which makes me wonder if this couldpotentially be the start of something more than just a fun weekend together.

I place a chaste kiss on his mouth. “You better.”

He climbs out of bed, stark naked and strides to the chair in the corner, grabbing the T-shirt and jeans he’d tossed there earlier, and puts them on. When he’s finished, he rummages through his hockey bag and pulls out a jersey.

I sit up in bed when he walks toward me, clutching the sheet around my waist.

He holds out the jersey. “Put this on.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why?”

He leans in and gently cradles my face. “It’ll make me so hard to see you in my clothes,” he says, his voice low. “Now, arms up,” he instructs.

Already caught up in the thrill of his possessive streak, I eagerly lift my arms as requested, letting the sheet fall into my lap. Harrison’s gaze takes me in, his eyes dark as he studies me.

His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he pulls the shirt over my head, guiding my arms through the sleeves in a slow, deliberate motion. His fingertips graze my skin as the fabric slides down my body, and once it’s in place, he carefully tugs my hair free from the neckline, letting the strands loose down my back.

Harrison nods. “Perfect,” he says, his approval ripples through me. “Tell me you’ll spend the rest of the weekend with me,” he adds, his eyes pleading.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” I say with a sated smile.

A noise from down the hall has me snapping my head up, causing me to crash back to reality. It’s probably Cat causing another disaster.

I glance at the framed jersey again, its silent presence a cruel reminder that I’m still bound to the past with no way to break free.

My vision blurs as a tear slips down my cheek, and I can’t help but feel foolish. It might be naïve, but by the end of the weekend Harrison and I shared, I convinced myself he was different from the other guys I dated, including Jeremy.

Unlike my ex, who made me feel small and insignificant, Harrison had been eager and kind during our weekend together. Which is why his actions left me blindsided.

Even after the other waitresses gushed over rumors they’d heard that he’d been with several puck bunnies during the hockey season, I still believed that because we shared a meaningful connection, things would be different and that he’d actually give what we shared a real shot. Instead, I was just another tally on his stat sheet, a temporary indulgence to add to his collection.

I angrily swipe away another tear, scowling at the hockey sticks in front of me. The flood of painful memories, combined with having to deal with Cat’s destructive behavior the past week, must have pushed me to the edge because I smirk when I spot a stick at the end with a white shaft and black blade. In my opinion, it’s far too plain and could use a makeover. A wicked idea forms in my mind as a way to settle the score while having a little fun at Harrison’s expense.

Hockey stick in hand, I head out of the office, glancing around to confirm no signs that point to Harrison being a cat owner. Which only adds to the mystery of Cat’s sudden appearance. I’m still convinced Harrison picked him up before he left for his trip, thinking it would be funny to leave me to deal with a cat on a rampage. He’ll regret it; I’ll make sure of that.

Despite the mess he made in the kitchen, Cat doesn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Harrison’s bad decisions, and I have to admit he might be growing on me.

After running to the store to grab ingredients to remake my sauce, I went to the local art supply store to pick up blue and pink gems, rhinestones, glitter, and glue that now covers the dining room table. The hockey stick is laid out in front of me, its white surface now half-covered in sparkles.

With Harrison being out of town, I haven’t had the chance to pull another prank on him, and there’s something cathartic about getting back at him and reclaiming control. I’m buzzing with excitement, but there’s a hint of nervous anticipation, too. He specifically told me not to mess with his hockey gear, and I push aside the smidge of guilt.

I recline in my chair, stretching my arms above my head, deciding a break is much needed. My project will be here waiting when I’m ready. Rising from the table, I go to the kitchen to grab a drink and check my phone that I left next to my laptop earlier.

Earlier, on my way to the craft store, I called Lila to check in.

Her brother’s best friend is in town, and she’s harbored a crush on him since she was in high school. I have a sneaking suspicion there’s more going on between them than she’s letting on. Unable to shake my curiosity, I type in Brooks’ name on my computer, curious to put a face to the name.

Fallon: Girl! I just looked up Brooks Claus. He’s hot AF!

Fallon: Is he as good of a kisser as you remember? He definitely looks like it.

Lila: OMG! I told you nothing happened. He’s only staying with me because the inn is fully booked.

Fallon: You’ve had a crush on him since you were in middle school. This is your chance to act on it.

Lila: Oh, sure, because going after my brother’s best friend sounds like a great plan.

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