Page 73 of False Play
I placed my hands on my hips, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “Forgive me if I’m trying to understand what happened. I was blindsided.”
“It’s none of your business how I act around people,” she snapped.
“I beg to differ,” I challenged. “I’m your boyfriend,” I said as if that would explain everything.As if it were true.
“Fakeboyfriend,” she corrected.
I ate the distance between us and pressed a finger against her mouth as my eyes darted around in panic. “You can’t be saying that in public.”
She darted her hand to my ribs and pinched me. I let out a pained groan as I took two steps back.Hell, the strength this woman had was both terrifying and sexy at the same time.
“Ouch. What the fuck was that for?”
“I told you the next time you shushed me, I was going to pinch you.” She crossed her arms, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Not so much into masochism anymore, are we?” she asked innocently, batting her long, dark eyelashes.
Silence fell between us as I fought a smile that threatened to break my barriers. I couldn’t fathom how Kennedy managed to make me frustrated with her and in awe in a matter of seconds. She was something else.
It was incredible how she managed to breathe life into me.Every time I was around her, I could be myself. More than anything, when she was around me, I forgot about…everything. The pressure of my career. The pressure from my father. The way I self-destructed to keep a sense of control.
Around her, I could be…normal.And I loved that.
Not being able to hold back my smile any longer, I widened it as much as I could. She matched the movement, showing her beautiful and bright smile. This woman was perfect, and…fuck. The knowledge was so frustrating. All I wanted to do was kiss her again.
Kissing had always been a means to an end for me. Something I did because I knew where it would inevitably end up.
But kissing Kennedy was the closest thing to a religious experience I’d ever had.
Out of all the scenarios I had drawn up inside my head—and believe me when I say there were a lot—that was not how I imagined our first kiss to be. I wished it had happened under different circumstances because I wanted—needed—it to happen again. And call me crazy, but I think she wanted it, too. There was no way she hadn’t felt how…howconsumingit was.
“Do you want to go get ice cream?” I blurted.
“Why?”
Because spending time with you is fun even if you frustrate me and confuse the hell out of my fucking feelings.
Because I think I…I like you. Like, really like you.
Because I can’t get you out of my head, and I don’t think I want to if I’m being fucking honest.
“No point in wasting our perfectly good outfits,” I replied in a weak attempt to convince her. “We should enjoy our only day off, too.”
She gave me ayou’re-so-full-of-shitlookbut nodded anyway. “Fine. Lead the way. I guess spending one more hourwith you wouldn’t be theworstthing in the world,” she retorted.
And just like that, we fell back into the comfort of what we knew.
“Maybe goingfor ice cream wasn’t such a good idea,” Kennedy whispered as we strolled into the ice cream shop.
The place practically fell silent as all eyes settled on me. The city of Chicago was always crawling with hockey fans, and it was difficult not to get recognized.
“It’s bound to happen. I’m not wearing a disguise,” I whispered back. Though I considered it, it defeated the purpose of theexposureI told Kennedy we needed.
It was a risk I was willing to take if it meant she would go out with me, even if it was under fake pretenses. I was a desperate man who wanted nothing more than a glimpse of attention from her.
The guys were going to give me so much shit when they figured out what I was doing. I could hardly believe it myself.
“And your massive frame doesn’t help either,” she commented dryly.
“Massive, huh?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
