Page 34 of Chips & Checks
I hate how that makes me feel—like I’m just another rule he’s never going to break.
“Perfect.” He grabs a mini quiche like we didn’t just agree to commit social arson. “Guess we’re a fake couple now. Let’s eat.”
Cam sips his wine, then mutters just loud enough to hear, “Better fake it fast. Chad doesn’t strike me as a slow-burn kind of guy.”
I nod, because what else can I do?
And just like that, I’m fake-dating the man who kissed me like he meant it. Who touched me like I was more than a game. Now he’s drawing up boundaries like I’m a threat. Like he knows how close he came to crossing something real.
God help me if he ever looks at me like that in public because I’m not sure I’d remember it’s pretend.
And I don’t think I could fake not wanting him back.
* * *
I thought there were going to be leftovers, but that’s because I forgot how much athletes eat. In less than an hour, they demolish everything we’ve laid out, along with the rest of the first bottle of wine and half of a second. When the food’s gone, Cam asks Bowen if he wants to meet up with Knight, Tristan, and Viktor for a drink at The Puck Drop, and they depart. The condo feels both larger and quieter after they’re gone.
Ash pours herself a little more rosé. “So, fake dating, huh? Cute. Since you two seem to share a special closeness, the kind of closeness one might have if they were super intimate say… to the stage of going down on each other. So, tell me, Vi. Have you given Bowen a blow job yet?”
I groan and cover my face with both hands. “Ew! No! Do I look like I want a dislocated jaw wired together for weeks on end?”
Ash snorts. “He’s that big?”
“No comment. I was referring to the show you traumatized me with back in the day. The origin of my fear. Not about his size…which is…”
“Tell me!”
I peek through my fingers at her. “Somewhere between Justin Timberlake and Girthmasterr.”
She sticks out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.
I drop my hands back to my lap. “Besides, you don’t get to make fun of me for the fake dating thing when the whole scheme was your idea!”
“Camden thought of it first.” Ash leans back into the cushions and tugs one of my blankets onto her lap. “I just enabled him.”
“I hope Bowen doesn’t get the wrong idea,” I mumble. What if he thinks I want arealrelationship? Or decides I “owe” him sex, since he can’t hook up with anyone else without blowing our cover. I don’tthinkBowen would do that, but you never know with guys, and despite how much time we’ve spent together over the last few days, I barely know him.
Ash continues to sink into the cushions of the love seat. When she gets situated, she’s like a cat, defying the laws of physics as she settles into the most comfortable possible position. “He seemed pretty adamant that he’s not interestedin dating. I wonder what makes Bowen so determined to stay single. Did you Google him?”
I shake my head. “No need. I don’t date hockey players. And the front office would’ve run a background check.”
Ash rolls her eyes. “How good can that be if you’re having trouble with Chad? Also, I don’t get what you have against hockey players. You’ve grown up surrounded by them. As far as I can tell, they’re awesome. I would totally date any of the ones we know. Except maybe Viktor.”
I swing my legs up onto the couch. I envy her ability to get cozy, especially right now when I want to run a mile just to burn off my anxious energy. “So many reasons. The egos. The injuries. The puck bunnies. And do you remember how this messed with my mother? My dad was a hockey player. He wrecked her. And she married a hockey player. And herbrotherwas a hockey player. I love Uncle Latham, but sometimes I think Scarlett is a saint. Hockey players are not for me. Their egos just cannot be controlled.”
Ash points toward the front door, as if Bowen’s still standing on the other side. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much. You liked him just fine when you met him in the wild.”
“Ignorance was bliss,” I agree. “But I wasn’t planning to date himthen, either.”
Not that it mattered. He wasn’t exactly giving off long-term vibes. If anything, Bowen Murphy seemed like the kind of guy who came into your life like a hurricane and left before the dust even settled.
My phone buzzes. There’s a new message from Bowen with a text attachment. Out of curiosity, I open it up. I nearly slosh rosé across the couch when I see the heading:Bowen Murphy: Romantic Rules & Boundaries.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“Oh my God, he wasn’t kidding! He really has dating rules, and he has themsaved in a document.Listen to this: No sleepovers. No weekday dates. No unexpected visits. No staying for breakfast.”
Ash cackles. “Are you serious? He sent you that?”
