Page 86 of Romancing the Grump
My heart starts hammering as Nathan leaves the last reporter, then makes his way toward me. A cheer erupts as he breaks into a jog, and I can’t keep myself from smiling.
As soon as he reaches me, he scoops me up into an enormous hug, lifting me off the ground as the cheering intensifies.
“Should we kiss for our fans?” he says, his mouth close to my ear.
“I don’t think they’ll settle for anything less,” I say.
Then his lips are on mine, his thumb sliding over my cheek in the gentlest caress. It’s not quite a stage kiss—I can tell Nathan is enjoying himself—but I can also tell he’s holding back. That’s not unexpected, considering our audience, but it triggers a sharp yearning deep in my chest. I want more than this. I want Nathan to kiss me for real. Even if no one is watching. I want Nathan to kiss me like he feels whatI’mfeeling.
When he pulls back, I look into his navy eyes and manage a smile. “Do good out there, Bruiser,” I say. “I’ll be cheering for you.”
His gaze narrows slightly as he studies me, and I wonder if he can sense what I’m feeling, but then Alec calls his name from the arena door, and the moment is over.
Nathan presses one more kiss to my forehead, then he pulls away and leaves me with Parker.
She eyes me as I watch him walk away. “Eighty percent?”
I breathe out a sigh. “Maybe even eighty-five.”
CHAPTER 20
SUMMER
As it turns out,winning a game against an NHL team gives the Appies a little bit more than bragging rights. The team isallover the news. Parker has always worked wonders with our social media, but now the Appies are getting coverage on every mainstream news outlet. Headlines likeThe Family-Friendliest Hockey Team of All, The Magic of the Appies,andHow TikTok is Changing the Face of Hockey.
It’s amazing to see, but also, we’re swamped. Parker is basically living at the arena—she really needs a team to help her with her job—and Grant and I are fielding dozens of new inquiries from brands who are interested in partnering with the team. We’ve even gotten calls from sports agents representing players who seem as interested in playing for the Appies as they are any of the NHL franchises.
I’m the newest member of the Appies staff, but I can tell from the looks on everyone’s faces that none of them have ever seen anything like this.
I won’t complain—I love the challenge of being busy. The only trouble is that all this work is making it much more difficult to accidentally on purpose run into my fake boyfriend.
We’ve still been texting, and he’s left coffee on my desk every morning this week, but now, the team is on their way to Pennsylvania for three-in-three—three games in three days—and I’m stuck at home with a dozen new contracts to review.
I sigh and grab my laptop from the coffee table in my living room.
At least I can work from home while the team is on the road. Tonight, I’m in my new favorite Flex leggings and an oversized hoodie, curled up on my couch with a giant bag of Robin Egg Easter candy, a delivery pizza, and a forty-four-ounce fountain Coke Zero from the gas station around the corner because they have the best nugget ice.
Reviewing contracts while episodes ofSchitt’s Creekplay in the background isn’t the sexiest way to spend a Friday evening, but it could definitely be worse.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I put down my slice of pizza to grab it. It’s probably Lucy, texting from the hospital. She’s still working nights, but she’s off tomorrow, so as soon as she wakes up from her weird morning sleep, she’s driving to Harvest Hollow to see me. I have no idea how she handles a schedule that doesn’t get her into bed until just before eight a.m. every morning, but she swears she’s gotten used to it, and the pay increase for signing on as night shift supervisor was plenty of motivation.
We’ve been texting back and forth all afternoon making plans, going over everything we want to do and eat and talk about while we’re together. But when I reach for my phone, it isn’t Lucy.
It’s Nathan.
And his message is only one word long.
Nathan
Help.
I frown at his message, a prickle of unease racing up and down my arms. I haven’t heard from Nathan today, which is slightly unusual—we’ve been texting at least a few times every day—but I’ve been trying to keep my expectations in check. He’s notactuallymy boyfriend, after all. And when he’s with his team, I especially don’t want to be demanding.
Summer
Can you be more specific? Help with what?
I give Nathan ten minutes to respond, then I start to worry. I waffle for a few seconds more before dialing his number. When he doesn’t answer, Ireallystart to worry.
