Page 24 of Empty Net

I nod, hoping he keeps his word because my legs are so tired I’m not sure I can walk for another moment.

As if he knows it too, he wraps me back into his arms, holding me up again as a sleek black Uber pulls around the front.

“You’re a good fake boyfriend, Arthur.”

He laughs. “Thank you, Lilah Jane.”

“You’re welcome,Arthur.”

Another deep rumble, the sound of a door being pulled open, and a blast of heat. It’s the last thing I remember before I fall straight to sleep.

CHAPTER 5

FOX

I almost kissed Lilah.

It’s the first thought that crosses my mind when I finally talk myself into peeling my eyes open to silence my alarm that has my phone vibrating against the table. I don’t know exactly what I was thinking—and maybe I wasn’t with the six or so vodka sodas I had last night—but I almost kissed my fake girlfriend.

Apparently, I have one of those now.

I also don’t know why I stepped in and helped her against her mother. No, wait. I do know why I did that. Those things she was saying to her… They were terrible, and nobody—especially not Lilah—deserves to hear them from their mother. She needed help, and it cost me nothing but a night out to help her. Why wouldn’t I do that?

Carefully, I pull myself up from the—holy shit, is that apinkcouch?I rub my eyes, then check again, and yep, that’s a pink couch, all right. I did not have “wake up on a pink couch” on my bingo card to start the new year, but here we are.

I push myself to a sitting position on the comfortable albeit godawful ugly thing and look around. I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings last night, especially given I couldbarely hold myself up when I finally got Lilah wrangled into her bed, so it’s like I’m seeing her apartment for the first time.

The walls are painted a pale pink that nearly matches the furniture. White bookshelves filled to the brim with what look like romance novels line one section of the room, and a huge TV is plastered against the other. There are not one, not two, but three different gallery walls, and several pairs of shoes are lined up neatly by the door. Everything has its place; even the stack of mail on the table by the door seems organized.

If I had to choose one word to describe the apartment, it would have to befeminine, and that’s not a bad thing. Not at all. It’s exactly what I expected from Lilah, the girl who, even though completely wasted, tried to run back inside because she was worried about her high heels.

Speaking of them…

I snatch my phone off the table and text Hutch to have Auden grab the discarded footwear. He instantly replies that they’re already on it. Then he asks how I’m doing, and I send him back a thumbs-down emoji, which he laughs at. Hopefully, the rest of my teammates are feeling just as shitty as I am, and Coach Smith will take it easy on us during the morning skate. I scrub my hand over my face, my head pounding, likely from dehydration. I need water and maybe something greasy to eat, or there is no way I will make it through practice this morning.

I check the time: 7:12. If I move fast, I’ll be able to get my truck from The Sinclair and grab a shower before heading to the barn, but I’m not sure I will be moving fast anywhere today. At 7:20, I finally drag myself off the couch and find the bathroom. After doing my business, I pad into the adjoining kitchen. It takes me four tries, but I eventually find the glasses, pulling down a mug—because that’s all there seems to be—and filling it with water from the faucet.

I chug it, then refill and repeat it three more times before I’m mildly satisfied. I rinse the cup and dry it with a hand towel hanging from the stove before returning it to the cabinet where I found it. Back against the island in the kitchen, I peer to my right, letting my eyes wander down the hall to where Lilah is—based on the snores filtering through the apartment—still fast asleep.

Shit, what was I thinking last night? I mean, yes, Lilah is a beautiful woman and I’m definitely attracted to her, but almost kissing her? That’s a whole different playing field. I couldn’t help myself though. She just looked so damn good standing in the middle of the dance floor, her hair wild from all the humidity and the sweat from hours of dancing. Then she called me Arthur, and I thought I might die hearing my name on her lips.

Nobody outside of my family has ever called me by my first name, not even when I was in grade school. I was playing hockey by then, so I was always just Fox. It’s not that I hate my first name, it just feels foreign now. But hearing Lilah say it… It didn’t feel foreign at all.

A loudthunkthat sounds suspiciously like someone falling comes from the direction of Lilah’s room, and I immediately shove off the counter, racing down the hall to make sure she’s okay. I toss open the door and am greeted by the absolute last thing I expected to see today—Lilah’s ass. It’s completely bared save for the strip of material nestled between her cheeks. I stand there dumbfounded, utterly fucking surprised, for a long time—likely too long. Not until I hear Lilah groan do I realize I should probably do something other than stare at her.

I spring into action all at once, reaching for her, careful not to touch her anywhere that isn’t covered. When I finally get her turned around, I brush the hair from her face.

“What are you… How did you…”

I suck in a breath, trying to get my racing thoughts to calm. What the hell is even happening right now? How did she end up on the floor? How did she lose her pants? What would that thin strip of material feel like between my teeth?

Stop it, Fox. Stop it right now.

I settle on “Are you okay?”

She huffs, glaring up at me with puffy eyes still coated in last night’s makeup. “No.”

I tuck my lips together to keep from laughing. “Why are you on the floor, Lilah?”

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