Faye
One of the things I love about my new job is the flexible hours. I don't have to worry about missing classes or stressing about getting to an office I'd never use. Most of what I do, I can do from my phone. Which means I can work whenever and wherever.
The only obligations I have are certain games and meetings with Coach and the others. We agreed to a certain number of posts per week and set up some goals they'd like me to hit when it comes to engagement.
Mostly, they have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing and are very interested in listening to my feedback and opinions.
It's the perfect job.
I've already cleared my schedule so I can be there at most of the home games and some practises, and I've set up a photo shoot with the guys tomorrow during their practise. I'm not sure how long Coach will give in to my requests, so I'm taking full advantage of his current goodwill.
But right now, I can do what I need to without being at the Den.
I'm eating the last of my lunch in a quiet corner of the dining hall, planning out the posts for the rest of the week, when a shadow falls over me. My entire body tingles, and I make sure to take a moment before I look up.
Liam is studying me.
"Oh, it's you. I've been meaning to talk to you." I do my best to sound professional and disinterested.
"Really?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, a friend of mine found your dance videos."
"A friend?" His smirk tells me he doesn't believe me.
"Yes. My cousin, in fact. Anyway, I was thinking, if you're interested, we could do something similar with the team."
He walks around the table and sits down opposite me.
"You want them to dance?" He furrows his brow as he leans back in the chair.
"Yeah. I want to have regular fun posts. Posts that show off what the players can do, or give some insight into their personality. And I think having some of them do a dance video could be a good start."
He blinks at me a couple of times and I swallow as I wait for an answer. Why does it matter to me what he thinks about my idea? It shouldn't I don't even know the guy.
"Sure," he finally says. "We could do that."
"Great." I bring out my tablet and find my notes on the dance. "I have a few suggestions for music, but I'll, of course, need your input. And your help with the choreography."
He clears his throat. "Yeah, I can do that."
"Good." I make a few notes, mostly to have something to do besides stare at the way the muscles in his forearms tense and relax as he moves. "I'm not sure who would want to be involved, but I'm hoping at least five or six of the players."
He places his forearms on the table and leans in. "I'm not bad in bed."
"What?" My eyes fly from his arms to his face.
The change in topic is jarring, and my mind is instantly back in his bed with his arm over my waist.
He lowers his voice almost to a whisper. "I'm good at sex."
"You could have fooled me," I whisper back, leaning in just a bit too close.
His eyes narrow and I can't look away. "I can prove it."
Scoffing, I shake my head. "I'm not watching whatever porno you've made with the puck bunnies."
"What? No. I haven't made any pornos."
My relief is immediate. "Good. That's one less PR disaster I have to worry about."
"That's not what I meant." The blue in his eyes darken and I'm sucked in.
"I'm not going to ask them about your sexual escapades, either."
"Worried you might get jealous?" The smirk on his face is annoying as hell.
"Hardly."
"Don't worry, I came up with a different plan."
Every syllable is a challenge, and my entire body wants to take it on. So I lean in closer and hope he won't notice how fast my heart is beating.
"And what plan might that be?"
"I want a do-over."
For a moment, I'm sure my brain has stopped working. There is no way he just said the words my ears picked up on.
"What?"
"I want a do-over."
"On a one-night stand?"
"Yes."
"That's not a thing."
"Why not?"
"It was a one-time thing."
"A do-over won't change that."
Worried my body will set on fire, I grab my things and start packing them up. "You're insane for even suggesting this."
"It's the only way I can prove to you that it's not my fault you woke up disappointed."
"I'm not sleeping with you."
"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't."
"I can give you a million. We don't like each other. We already tried it. And what's that last thing.... Oh, right, I'll get fired. Because it's against the rules."
"Let me guess, you never break the rules."
There's a glimmer in his eyes, promising much more than I'm ready to accept.
"Rules are there for a reason."
"Rules are overrated. They haven't done me any good. Besides, no one would know."
The way his voice caresses my spine makes me want to give in. The memory of his hands under my shirt is making me excited.
Someone drops a plate in the distance and I shake my head. "No. This is not happening. I'm not risking my career to sleep with you."
"It would be worth it."
"Not to me."
His eyes dip down to my chest, and I silently curse my body for making my nipples hard.
"Come on, you're dying to know, aren't you?"
I shake my head. My mouth is dry and I can't get my breathing under control.
He smirks at me. That crooked, infuriating, adorable smirk.
As he gets up and leaves, I'm left feeling confused and flustered.
He did not just suggest we sleep together again.
There is no way he thinks that would be a good idea.
I mean, I am curious. But no. No. I can't risk my job just to satisfy an urge. There's no way.
***
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