Page 81 of Cold Feet
"What? How?" I asked, surprised.
She shrugged, her eyes kind but knowing. "First, Logan is constantly saying you and Cam would be perfect together if you would only get out of your own way, and I happen to know Cam's had a massive crush on you for a while."
"How long is a while?"
"Um, forever. Let's just say that in real life, theHitmanis more of aone-hit wonder," she smiled. "At least when it comes to love. He has it bad for you."
"No, he..."
"Also, something about the timing seemed awfully convenient. Plus, Logan mentioned it happenedverysuddenly. And..." She gave me a meaningful look."You've spent the last year I’ve known you pretending Cam Murphy doesn't exist except when you have to manage his image. Or when you've had more than one margarita. Like at our party last summer."
"That's not true," I protested automatically. "We work together all the time."
"Uh-huh. And you maintain about fifty feet of professional distance at all times." She leaned forward, her expression turning gentle. "So what changed? Why agree to fake an entire relationship? That's a pretty extreme PR strategy, even for the Hitman."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Redline was ready to walk away just days before the announcement. His agent suggested a PR relationship to rehabilitate his image."
"And he asked you?" Coco looked intrigued. "Out of all the women in Tampa who would literally lie down in traffic for a chance with Cam Murphy, he asked his team publicist? The woman who, as far as I can tell, has spent years perfecting the art of professional disinterest around him?"
Put that way, it did sound strange. "It made sense for the optics," I explained. "I know how to handle the media, I understand the hockey world, and I'm..." I faltered.
"You're what?" Coco prompted.
"Safe," I finished. "I'm a safe choice. No messy emotional complications."
Coco's skeptical expression was almost comical. "Right. And how's that working out for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Lana," she said patiently, "you've been staring out that window at Cam every time there's a break in our conversation. And you haven't stopped fidgeting with that ring since I walked in."
Caught, I self-consciously placed both hands flat on my desk. "It's just – it's become a habit."
"Mmm-hmm." She didn't sound convinced. "So tell me about the beach trip with your family. How was that?"
"Complicated," I admitted. "My parents think it's real. So does the rest of my family. Only Zayne knows the truth."
"And sharing a room with Cam? How was that?" Her tone was light, but her eyes were astute.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks, remembering how I'd woken up with his arm draped over me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath warm against my neck. "Fine. Professional. We maintained boundaries."
"Right." Coco nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "And nothing happened that made you question those boundaries? Not even once?"
The memory of Cam's arms around me as we'd fallen asleep, the intensity in his eyes as he'd nearly kissed me on the bridge, the way my heart had raced when he'd confessed that no one after me had ever come close – all of it rushed through me in a wave of confusion.
"It's complicated," I repeated, feeling suddenly defensive.
"When did it stop being fake for you?" Coco asked quietly.
I stared at her, caught off guard by the directness of the question. "I – what? It's still fake."
"Is it, though?" She tilted her head, studying me. "Because from here, it looks like something real is happening. Maybe something that's been brewing for a while."
"That's…" I started to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat. With sudden clarity, I realized I didn't want to lie to Coco. Maybe I needed someone to talk to, someone who might understand the complex emotions swirling inside me. "I don't know what's happening," I admitted finally. "It's all getting... muddled."
"Let me guess," she said gently. "You're starting to have genuine feelings, or maybe acknowledging feelings that were already there. But you're terrified of what happens when thisarrangementinevitably ends."
I looked at her, startled by her accuracy. "Are you secretly a therapist?"
