Page 85 of Irresistibly Risky

“The cookie crumbles,” he finishes for me. “It’s a play on words, even though they never finished the sentence.”

“Got it. Very cute.”

He opens the door and leads me in, but I pause, jerking my hand from his. He turns his head to find me, and I shake my head, staring around the shop that has about a half-dozen patrons plus the staff inside.

“I come in here enough that the staff all know me, and I tip them like I’m a Kennedy for their quiet loyalty. It’ll be fine.”

“What about them?” I bounce my head in the direction of the occupied tables.

He shrugs. “Maybe they won’t notice.”

I give him a you cannot be serious look.

“It’ll be a test.”

He retakes my hand and drags my reluctant body inside and up to the counter.

“Ash! Hey, man!” one of the kids behind the counter crows, reaching out his fist. Asher releases my hand and gives him a fist pump.

“Hey, Kev. How’s it going? How’s school?”

“Good!” the kid exclaims. “Senior year is coming this fall. It’ll be epic. What can I get you”—his gaze swishes over to me—“and your lady friend tonight?” That’s the moment we hear the click of a camera phone behind us.

I stomp on Asher’s foot, and he winces. “This is actually the amazing doctor who saved my shoulder. I wanted to thank her by buying her the best cookies in the city.” He turns around and addresses the café full of people who are all staring at us. “And if you all delete any pictures or videos you just took and promise not to post anything about my lovely doctor who is very camera shy, I will buy you all cookies, sign anything you want me to sign, and have my assistant send you each a ticket to a game this year.”

That quickly wins everyone over, and Asher ends up dropping hundreds on cookies and taking selfies—which he’s fine with—and signing everything anyone hands him with the marker he keeps in his pocket at all times. He also texts Freddy to inform him of the offer he just made and gets a returning thumbs-up.

By the time we leave the cookie shop, I’ve eaten my weight in salted caramel and chocolate chip cookies, and Asher has a very contended smile on his lips.

“You love that,” I remark. “Don’t you?”

He gives a half-shrug as we stroll. “What’s not to love? It’s a trip that’s never gotten old. I like signing autographs and taking selfies and dropping money to make someone’s day better. I love being able to pay it forward. It’s why I love going to the hospital. All I do is throw a ball around a field, but it’s magic to those people and those kids, and I think that’s the coolest part of this gig. Sure, it’s annoying when I can’t leave my apartment or take my girlfriend and son out to the park without being mobbed or photographed. But I’ve been dealing with the celebrity side of life since I was sixteen, so it’s not new, and for the most part, I’ve learned how to manage it.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” I admit. “I never had anything like that when I was skating. Not even with endorsements or winning gold.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

That thought hits me, and hits me hard. Regardless of this thing between the two of us, Mason being Asher’s son, will be in the spotlight. I didn’t get knocked up by a regular guy; I got knocked up by a football god. A man who stems from a family of football legends. My instinct is to shelter and protect Mason from all of that, but the clock is already ticking on that particular time bomb.

The world will discover what we’ve been hiding sooner or later.

And when they do, they’ll want a piece of it for themselves.

We reach the back door of the building and slip back inside, both of us quiet and a bit stoic. It’s late, and we’re both exhausted. Wordlessly, he guides me down the hall to his room, even though I never told him I’d move in here with him. We brush our teeth, and then he exits the bathroom to give me privacy.

I wash my face, fighting the jolt of butterflies that comes over me. Last night, this all sparked into action, but tonight we’re actually doing this. It’s real now. I’m his girlfriend. That’s what he called me, and I told myself I was done with second-guessing when Asher walked out on the ice after chasing after me.

Something catches my eye and brings a smirk to my lips. He has a T-shirt in here, slung over the side of his bathtub. It’s a team shirt with his number and name on it. I strip out of my clothes and slip it on, the soft cotton falling around the middle of my thighs. The butterflies only intensify as I switch off the light and step into the dark bedroom.

My feet pad softly toward the edge of the bed, and then a laugh tickles the back of my throat. Asher is shirtless, on his back, his reddish-brown hair already rumpled because he’s fast asleep. His breaths are deep and slow, his full lips softly parted.

“So much for the end to our hot date,” I whisper, running my hand through his soft hair, reveling at how I can do that now. At how this larger-than-life man is now mine. I’m going to fall in love with him. I’m positive of it. And it scares the absolute crap out of me.

24

After falling asleep before sealing the deal on my first real date with Wynter, I woke up to the best surprise in the world. Even thinking about it now, I’m hard. Wynter’s mouth wrapped around my dick while she was wearing my jersey with my name and team number plastered across the back.

Hottest. Fucking. Thing. Ever.

---