Page 78 of Faking the Shot
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Thanks, Leif. I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask,” he says, the smugness creeping back into his tone. “Now, go to bed before you overthink yourself into a stupor. You’ve got a game tomorrow, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I reply with a faint laugh. “See you tomorrow night.”
After we hang up, I toss my phone onto the bedside table and stare at the ceiling, Leif’s words looping in my head. Could he be right? Could Valentina possibly feel the same way? Or is this just me reading too much into late-night phone calls and stolen moments?
I close my eyes, trying to quiet my thoughts, but all I see is Valentina—her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention. For the first time in years, I let myself hope. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to get me through tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Valentina
When You Cross the Blue Line, Take the Shot
The doorbell rings, and my pulse skips as I smooth my dress one last time. Tonight is the night—our first outing that’s not drenched in media scrutiny or staged smiles. It feels significant, though I can’t decide if that’s exciting or terrifying. Probably both.
I swing open the door, and my breath catches. Kaden stands on the other side, a force of nature in a tuxedo that fits like it was made for him—because it probably was. His shoulders look broader, his chest more defined, and there’s just enough scruff on his jaw to make my knees feel weak. The bowtie is slightly crooked, but instead of diminishing his presence, it makes him more devastating. Rugged and refined, all at once.
His eyes rake over me, and the heat in his gaze has me gripping the doorframe for support.
“You’re gorgeous, Valentina,” he growls, his voice low and rough like sandpaper smoothing out the edges of my nerves.
I smile shyly, heat rushing to my cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself, Crawford. The tux works.”
He steps closer, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s physically restraining himself. “If we didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d rip that dress off you right now.”
A shiver races down my spine at his words, and I can’t help but tease. “Tempting, but this dress took a lot of effort. I’d prefer to keep it intact.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he mutters, licking his lips. “You look too good. It’s going to take every ounce of willpower I have not to drag you into a dark corner tonight.”
I laugh softly, stepping aside to let him in. “Then we better leave before you get any ideas.”
“I already have ideas,” he murmurs, his voice low as his hand brushes my lower back, guiding me toward the waiting limo.
Inside the limo, the air is thick with anticipation. Kaden slides in beside me, the door closing with a soft click. The driver offers a polite nod before the privacy partition rises, leaving us alone in the plush interior.
The hum of the engine fills the silence as I smooth my dress over my lap, trying to ignore the tension radiating from the manbeside me. When I glance at him, his gaze is locked on me, dark and smoldering.
“You’re killing me, Valentina,” he mutters, his voice like gravel.
“What?” I ask, though the heat in his stare is enough of an answer.
“That dress,” he growls, leaning closer. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
My cheeks flame, and I glance down at the silky fabric that clings to my curves. “It’s just a dress, Kaden.”
“It’s not just a dress,” he says, taking my hand in his. Before I can process what’s happening, he presses it to his lap, against the undeniable hardness straining beneath his pants. “You did this. You need to take care of it.”
My breath catches as heat rushes through me. “Kaden,” I whisper, darting a glance toward the front.
“The windows are tinted,” he assures me, his lips brushing my ear. “No one can see. And even if they could, you’re my PR, aren’t you? What would people say if I walked into that ball like this?”
His cock twitches beneath my palm, and my fingers curl instinctively, earning a low groan from him.
“Kaden,” I try again, my voice shaky, but he’s relentless.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress higher. “You drive me fucking insane. I don’t think I can wait until later.”
