Page 26 of The Cupcake Cottage

Her phone screen lit up with a text message from Maverick’s mom, firming up their plans for desk hunting.

Was her Sunday supper date afterward with Maverick still on? She hadn’t seen a single photo of them or their Saturday night date on social media, and it had been almost two days. Them dating was supposed to be huge, wasn’t it? What had happened to all of that interest from the initial photos?

What if their fake-real thing was already over and she was being added to The One-Date Wonder’s list of women?

She steadied her breathing. Maverick wasn’t going to toss her aside just because their first date hadn’t gone viral. She could argue that they needed to keep trying, plead her case. Louis would agree. Although maybe not after seeing their dinner bill.

She held her phone, fingers hesitating over the keyboard. Sunday shopping. Maverick would be there, and Daisy-Mae would be hanging out with him and his mom. Like they were a real couple, a serious one. Not a publicity couple that were locked in something just for show.

The swirling in her head intensified. She could easily wind up in a repeat Myles situation with this fake-real relationship, where she was more emotionally invested than her boyfriend.

Setting down her phone, she walked across the room, considering what she could do about Maverick’s poster. She tugged at its frame. It was screwed into the wall.

She sighed and surveyed her office. There was no way she was going to be able to concentrate in this office unless she turned her desk to face the corner.

Or just kept her head down and did her work.

She got back to it and a few hours later, there was a knock on her door. She’d closed it earlier, much too distracted by all the hotties and semi-famous people who traipsed past on their way to the conference room at the end of the hall. Agents, players, Miranda—the team’s owner—even Violet sometimes. Everyone seemed to pass by her office.

“Come in,” she called, her heart hiccuping as she spied Maverick looking at her from his poster.

“Hey, am I interrupting?” The door opened a crack and the real Maverick appeared. Her heart did another skip.

She shook her head and sucked in a breath, fearing he was coming to say he was pulling out of their fake-real relationship.

The One-Date Wonder strikes again.

He nudged the door the rest of the way open with his shoulder, revealing that he’d brought them each coffee. His expression suggested he was happy to see her and not about to dump her.

She relaxed, unsure if she should stay seated or come over for a hug. Was it too soon to expect something like that as a hello? She opted to stand and stretch and watch his cues.

The man needed a haircut, a wayward curl falling across his brow as he gave the door a gentle kick to close it behind him without spilling his precious caffeine cargo. She really hoped he was letting his hair grow as some sort of hockey superstition involving wins and losses during the season. She loved the slightly unkempt look he had going on.

“Not interrupting at all, especially if that second cup is for me.” She reached across her desk, accepting the takeout cup. “Organizing princess costumes for men your size is not an easy task.”

His eyes narrowed for a split second before he chuckled. “I thought it wasyouthey wanted dressing up like a princess during the games?”

The PR team had been pretty set on painting the Zamboni like a castle and turning the game into some sort of fairy tale on ice. Shooting that idea down had landed her this job—thanks to the man in front of her. But yes, the princess costume had been sized for her, not him.

“I outgrew the princess phase a long time ago,” she said with a wave of her hand, taking her seat again.

“Says the woman with a glass case full of tiaras and crowns.”

She laughed. It was true. She displayed her pageant wins. Some pageants didn’t allow the winners to keep the bling as it was passed down to the next year’s winner. But sometimes shegot to keep it. And what was the point of bling if you didn’t show it off a bit? Especially when you’d worked so hard for it.

“What are the twins going to do with a woman like you? I bet your no-nonsense, direct Texan approach melts their brains every time you speak to them.” He sat in one of the ugly plastic chairs that had been tossed into her office like a second thought. He crossed an ankle over his knee, leaning back, and she realized she could have pressed them into a tradition of a hug and a kiss hello.

She needed to think faster if she wanted to enjoy all the benefits of having Maverick as her boyfriend.

“It’s…interestingcoordinating my plans with theirs.” She lifted her cup, curious what he had ordered. The cup was from The Gingerbread Café and it smelled like their November special, a spiced latte. With oat milk? She took a sip. It was. “How’d you know I’m hooked on this?” She hadn’t ordered it during their date.

He shrugged.

“Are you psychic?”

“I have friends in the right places.”

“Well, tell them I also like diamonds, white gold, Italian leather, the color blue…”

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