Page 45 of Faking It with the Forward

This man and his body are the complete opposite of what it was like to be with Ethan.

“Do you want to know why I turned down the deal with New York?” he asks suddenly.

“Sure, if you want to tell me.”

He rolls over, but keeps his hand on my hip, not allowing me to shift off. I’m now straddling his lap, looking down at his gorgeous face. There’s no mistaking the hard length of his erection pressing against my core. He doesn’t look a bit apologetic about it either.

“My father took a similar deal when he was in college. Junior year he got drafted by Boston. He started in the minor league and after a year made it to the NHL.” The angles in his face are so sharp in this light, making his cheekbones seem even more dramatic. “He married my mom, and she got pregnant with me, and he promptly had a career-ending injury.”

I actually know all of this. I’ve read his father’s history as a player and coach—Reese’s coach.

“The fact he never got a degree fucked him, Twy. He didn’t have the opportunity to go back because he was a husband and dad. He had to work and the only thing he knew was hockey. The best he could do was coaching at the junior level, barely able to support us the way he wanted to. It caused a lot of strain in the family.” His thumb rubs against my hip. “I love hockey. Like, I fucking love it. But I want something secure to fall back on just in case.”

“That’s understandable. I think you’re smart to get your degree. Career-ending injuries happen all the time.”

He laughs darkly. “Shanna didn’t think it was smart. She wanted me to take the deal, get the signing bonus, and marry her. All she wanted was to start building a life as a professional athlete’s wife.”

“And that’s why you broke up?”

He nods. “She gave me an ultimatum. Her or college. I think she really thought I was going to cave and was shocked when I didn’t. That’s why she’s been coming around again.”

And why he needs me to pretend to be his girlfriend.

Except the way we are sitting right now, the way he feels underneath me, and how he looks at me. None of this feels fake. Not the conversation. Not the way my body is reacting. Not the way his fingers brush against my skin.

I reach out and press a hand to his chest. The thrum of his heart feels like wings. “Your heart’s beating so fast.”

“It does that when I’ve got a hot girl straddling me in my bed wearing nothing but booty shorts and a bra.”

“Reese…”

He sits up, bringing his face to mine. I’ve still got my hand pressed against his warm chest and his fingers fan over my cheeks and then graze under my chin. “I call you Sunshine because when you occasionally venture to smile, it lights up the whole damn room.” His mouth is inches from mine. “You’re not easy, Twyler. You’re tough and can wrangle a locker room of asshole hockey players, which is fucking impressive. You wear a shield over your heart, but the few times you’ve let me see inside, I’m overwhelmed by who you are.”

“You’re crazy,” I tell him, unsure of how to accept what he’s saying. From the start, the one thing about Reese that has made me nervous was the fact I felt like he saw me when no one else did.

“Maybe.” His fingers curl under my jaw and he lifts my chin. “Can I kiss you?”

I should say no. I should get out of this bed and go home because this isn’t what we agreed to. He’s got a hundred other girls that would happily be in his bed, and a sophisticated ex that wants him back. But I don’t say no. I nod my approval and he tilts his head, licking his bottom lip. I think my heart is going to burst through my ribcage.

Like the last time, he starts slow, setting a tentative pace, like he’s afraid I’ll run. Fair. It wouldn’t be the first time I took off on him. But his mouth parts, and mine follows suit, and when his tongue slides against mine, every nerve in my body stands on end. Reese Cain is a fantastic kisser. Calm and confident on the outside, dominating underneath. The same way he is on the ice. The reason he was named captain. He’s a leader—a partner. He knows what he wants, and how to get it.

His big hands flatten against the bare skin on my lower back, and I loop my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through the fringe of hair. I pull him closer, wanting to feel his body against mine. The heat between my legs builds, and I grind against him, biting down on his bottom lip with my teeth.

He growls, flipping us over, pressing my back against the mattress. He hovers over me, breathing hard, no longer kissing me, no longer touching me at all. His eyes are wild with lust. His fingers graze my jaw, dropping to my neck. I flinch instinctively, and he jerks his hand back.

“We…” he says through a shuddering breath. “We should stop, before I do something I’ll regret.”

I withdraw my hand. “Okay. Right. Too far. We made an agreement,” I move to shift away from him, back to my side of the bed, “and this goes way outside the boundaries we set.”

His hand clamps down on my hip, keeping me still.

“Don’t.” His fingers graze down my cheek and his gray eyes hold mine. “Don’t you fucking think this is because I don’t want you. I’ve wanted you since the first time we kissed. But this isn’t what you agreed to, and we need to reassess when you’re not sprawled in front of me half-naked.”

His confession stuns me, which is why I don’t argue as he presses his lips to my forehead and then rolls onto his back, next to me. The room is quiet, other than the two of us trying to catch our breaths.

I move to curl on my side, but in the dark, his hand catches mine. That’s how we both finally fall asleep, linked.

14

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