Page 16 of Pucking the Grump

“Whatever you want it to involve. And totally, I wouldn’t ask you to.” I hand her the contract, careful not to seem too eager. “But the basic idea is that twice a week, in pockets of time pre-approved by you, I get to plan something for us to do that has nothing to do with work, hockey, or productivity. Something purely recreational. You have veto power, of course,” I add hastily.

“How generous of you,” she mutters, scanning the document.

“I’m a giver.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips as she mutters, “This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But you need it,” I counter. “Are you impressed by how legal I made everything sound? Think I have a future in the law when I’m too old and crusty to play pro hockey?”

“It’s very impressive,” she says dryly, before glancing up at me with those piercing green eyes. “But what do you get out of this arrangement? I don’t see anything about your compensation listed here.”

I consider deflecting with a joke, but I really don’t want to. “I get to spend time with someone I care about, and make sure she doesn’t work herself into an early grave. Like I said, your health comes first.”

Her expression softens. “Stone, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do. I appreciate you. You’re a very sweet person, but?—”

“I am not,” I push back, afraid this is headed in a bad direction. “I’m sexy and exciting and make you come harder than anyone ever has. And don’t you forget it.”

She sighs, before replying in a tone that’s a tad too condescending for my taste, “Yes, obviously. But the point is, I don’t have time for this. Not even two hours, twice a week. I’m booked solid.”

“The point is, you don’t have time not to do this.” I counter, realizing it’s time to take off the kid gloves. “Rem, what happened last night wasn’t normal. It was a warning you should take seriously. Eventually, your body will force you to rest, whether you want to or not. Just like what happened with Noemi. And I really don’t want to bring flowers to the hospital again anytime soon.”

She chews her bottom lip. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she weighs the pros and cons, calculating the risk versus reward.

Deciding whether or not to take easy-going Stone, the fuck buddy, seriously…

“And if you don’t,” I cut in, when her lips part on what looks like another excuse, “I don’t know if I can be friends anymore.” I hold her gaze as her jaw drops, making sure she sees how fucking serious I am right now. “I know you already called things off sexually, but I just… I can’t watch you abuse yourself and stand by and keep quiet about it. Not even as a friend.”

She falls silent, studying me for a long moment before she nods. “Okay. But I need to make it abundantly clear: this can’t interfere with my work schedule, not even a little bit.”

“Agreed,” I say, hope swelling in my chest.

“Second, we continue to be discreet when we’re together, even if we’re just hanging out in a friendly capacity.” Her gaze is steady, unwavering. “The last thing I need right now is Dad up my ass about spending time off the clock with a hockey boy.”

“Understood. Discretion is my middle name.”

“I thought it was Julian.”

“Hush, we don’t talk about that,” I say. “It’s embarrassing.”

She huffs out a soft laugh. “Fine. I’ll sign on the dotted line. But we end the contract on October 30th, not the 31st. That’s my last day in town before I fly out for the interview.”

“Perfect. But you don’t have to sign, we can just shake on it. A gentleman’s agreement, if you will.” I hold out my hand, careful not to look too pleased with myself. “So, we have a deal, Coach Lauder?”

She slips her smaller hand into mine. “Deal, Fun Coach Stone.”

Her fingers are warm and perfect as I give them a squeeze. “You won’t regret it, Bossy. I promise.”

“I’m already regretting it,” she mutters, but there’s no heat in the words. “Now, can I go get coffee?”

The buzzer beside her front door cuts into my reply. “Yeah. Go. And I’ll fetch the groceries. While I’m gone, decide if you want Mediterranean omelets or huevos rancheros. I ordered stuff for both.”

“Okay, that sounds great. Thanks,” she whispers, one of those vulnerable smiles curving her lips again.

I should let go of her hand. I should step back, keep things professional, and respect the boundaries we’ve just established.

Instead, I give her fingers another gentle squeeze. “You know what the first rule of fun is, Bossy?” I brush my thumb slowly across her knuckles. “Never accept that you have to choose between two things you love. It’s okay to ask for everything you want.”

Something flashes in her gaze, awareness and a hint of suspicion that makes me suspect she hasn’t missed the subtext.

---