Rinkmates: A steamy Hockey Romance (The Mates series Book 1)

My hand rests lightly on the worn wooden door frame as I watch Liora closing the door behind her.

She’s so fucking tiny, standing there and frowning up at me. And all I can think about is how easy I could lift her up and throw her around in my bedroom to make her shut up and—

The door closes with a loud thud. “How in the world did you manage to track down my address?”

Damn. She looks at me like she’s the one towering over me. Her piercing blue eyes are full of defiance, making it clear she’s not someone you can just throw around. She’s a wild one, and it drives me nuts.

I clear my throat, feeling the cool hallway air mix with the leftover warmth from her friend’s small place. “Um, well.” Shit. So how do you politely tell a girl that your assistant stalked her? “Nina found you. She’s crazy good at stuff like this.”

“Doesn’t sound legal.”

“I don’t think it was.”

She narrows her eyes at me and I steady myself for what I have to do. Fuck. I’ve never begged before. I feel like a complete idiot asking her to move in with me. The irony isn’t lost on me—considering how much I love my single life. My single apartment. My single nights. Just thinking my man cave is going to be full of things smelling like strawberries soon gives me the ick.

“Listen, I know I screwed up and I’m sorry. You got the wrong impression of me last time.” I clear my throat again. Damn it. What’s up with me? “I didn’t mean to come off as rude. My team never mentioned their PR strategy to me either.”

“That’s what really turned me off, to be honest. Your own team doesn’t even inform you when you have to move in with someone.”

I don’t tell her I want to turn her on, not off. Instead, I just say, “I suppose they were concerned that I might reject it and we’d all lose out on this chance.”

And now I even cough awkwardly. Shit, I wish I’d brought some water. I probably sound like a castrated cat. This should be easy. Apologize, ask her to move in, take her home, done. Okay, good, she can’t hear my thoughts because I sound like a total creep. It’s not like I can’t just snag her and—

“What?” she snaps, and I realize I must have looked at her like I just stepped out of reality and into the Twilight Zone.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“To apologize? You must be very comfortable up on your high horse, huh?”This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I bite my lip. What a little brat. “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

Is she serious? I bite back a snarl. “For mocking your current…job.”

“And?”

“And being an ass,” I grunt out.

She grins, and that beauty of a smile might have knocked me out if I didn’t lean against her crappy door. I quickly add, “I think Ethan and Nina had a good idea and that we should take it into consideration and go along with their plan. Let’s keep it casual. You move in with me, we ignore each other but pretend to have a relationship when needed, and profit from it?”

She looks like she’s contemplating it, so I keep pushing it. “Once we step out holding hands, the news will eat that shit up. You need some publicity to keep up the voting in the show, and I need everyone to think I’m settling down.” I pause, hoping she’ll see the practicality of it too. “It’s simple.”

“You think living with you will be simple?”

I ignore that knife coming at me and continue, “Like I said, I won’t be around often. Ethan and Nina will set the terms for us later. So, what do you say? Want to move in with me?”

I flash my best smile, the one that usually melts hearts, but it seems to bounce off her like a rubber ball hitting a brick wall.

Teenage Riley would be heartbroken right now.

“Let me guess, you’re always this eager?” she says, leaning against the other side of the door frame, looking up at me.

The light bounces off her little nose and there’s a loud jingle in my mind, telling me that I need to keep my dick in my pants in case she says yes. Liora is my last chance. I can’t afford to fuck it up. To fuck her. But she doesn’t have to know what her face does to me.

“Only when the prize is worth it,” I reply smoothly.

She adds a sweet eye roll for good measure. “You must’ve been a c-section because there’s no way your mother could’ve pushed both you and your ego out naturally.”

Ouch. I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Okay, okay, you’re out for blood, I see.”

If she only could understand that this is my last resort.

Even Mercer got in on the act, pulling me aside after practice to sell me on the idea of a fake relationship for the sake of our reputation. It’s not only for me. This is for the whole team. The league.

She sighs and finally speaks up. “Okay, let’s assume…” I grin widely, and she continues, louder this time, “Assuming I say yes. How do we pull this off? Fake a relationship? It just sounds ridiculous.”

“Nina suggested a minimal effort sort of relationship—me attending some of your shows, you tagging along to some games, no need for any actual conversation. Some photos here, some photos there, and we’ll leave.”

Her piercing blue eyes narrow, dissecting my words as if she’s cutting up a frog in biology class, analyzing each condition. Then, in a split second, her gaze snaps up, and I’m left hanging, waiting for her verdict. Leaning closer, her eyes catch the light and sparkle like a cold January sky full of stars. Damn it. She makes me feel like she could see right through me. It’s both electrifying and eerie.

All I want is for her to say yes, and I’m terrified. As if a no from this little stranger could give me the final blow.

Gathering my courage, I try again. “Look, I’ll be gone on a string of away games starting tomorrow…Come on, you can’t hate me this much. You don’t even know me, and I’m not that hard on the eyes.”

She scoffs. “So you think I should say yes just because you’re hot?”

Oh, there you go. She thinks I’m hot. “No, because fame is the ticket to your victory. People will be buzzing about us and you’ll stay fresh in their minds when it’s time for nominations. You need me as much as I need you.”

She bites her lips and I’m getting impatient. Why is this so hard?

No word is coming out of this fucking plush mouth. Every time I try to open up, she shuts down.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m here trying, Liora. What are you afraid of?”

“A lot,” she says.

“I’m pouring my heart out, damn it. What else do you want me to say?”

“Fine.” She throws up her hands. “My biggest fear is that you’ll continue hurting others, that you use me like your sidekick and then the media will turn against me as well. I can’t take that risk.”

My stomach drops. She truly believes I’m the worst piece of shit around. But that’s the reputation I’ve earned with those who didn’t fall for my looks online. “Okay. Fine. If you’re that convinced I’m the worst, let’s just scrap the whole thing then.”

She repeats, “Fine,” once more, spinning around as if relieved to be finally rid of me. I’m left breathless at her abrupt dismissal.

I never had a problem persuading a girl to stay at my place before. What the fuck is happening right now?

A surge of desperation floods my body, and I touch her on the arm to stop her. She’s not running from me like that. Hell no.

She halts, glancing at my hand on her arm, and I reluctantly release my grip, realizing I’ve held on longer than intended. I slide my hands into my pockets. “Look. This started off totally wrong and I— You know what? What about we start over?”

I carefully reach my hand out. She just looks at it. Damn, I’m not sure if she’s going to hit me again or laugh at me. I say it anyway, “Hi, my name is Riley Huntington, I’m a hockey player and have a spare room for you. Scouts honor, I’m a nice guy.”

She doesn’t take my hand and I just stupidly leave it there for her to shake. The seconds stretch and I’m so close to just storming off. For real this time. But her frown changes into a smile that could kill me. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

And then, she finally takes my hand and I can’t help but sigh in relief. I shake it and there’s this sizzling spark shooting from my fingertips up to my spine, and I do everything in my willpower not to say something stupid like woah.

“I’m Liora James, a figure skater who turns homeless soon if she doesn’t agree to this stupid idea,” she says.

I let out a nervous laugh. She doesn’t join in.

“So, you’re up for grabbing a bite and getting to know each other before sharing rooms?” I ask, flashing a smile.

She averts her gaze. “I can’t really afford eating out.”

“No worries, I’ve got it.”

Her frown deepens once more and I have absolutely no clue what I did wrong this time.

“Riley, if we’re doing this, I won’t be your charity case. I mean it,” she says. “We need clear rules, a contract, both of us laying out what we expect.”

So much for getting to know each other. But she’s right, we’re talking business here. “Got it, you want to keep this as professional as possible.”

She nods. “No distractions. I need to win this show, there’s no other option for me. We’ll think about a strategy that makes us both win, and nothing else. And I want a key to my own room.”

I halt for two seconds, wondering what she must have gone through if she trusts people so little. “Sure. So, are you in then?”

She nibbles her lip but nods eventually. “I hate feeling like a burden on my friend in there, and we’ve been on the hunt for a decent apartment nonstop. Yours is…okay. So, yeah, I’ll give it a shot.”

“Okay? It’s fantastic.”

“Don’t need another girl boosting your ego.”

I laugh. This is going to be a catastrophe. “Okay, okay. I got it. Then let’s grab your stuff and head to my ‘okay’ apartment.”