Page 96 of Off The Ice

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and my body tensed with anxiety until he finally responded,

“No, Cassie. I don’t mind.”

A slow breath escaped me, my shoulders loosening as I stepped back from him.

Liam studied me for a beat, then exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“If you’re being serious about the rumors not bothering you,” he said, looking as if it were hard to get the words out, “then do you want to save my life by doing me the literal biggest favor in the world?” he asked, his face turned in a way that told me he was expecting rejection.

I stared at him, knowing there was nothing he asked of me that would be too much. After all he’d given me—safety and comfort, and friendship—how could he think there was anything I wouldn’t do for him?

“Anything,” I responded.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Liam

Ididn’t want to read into it too much about what it meant that I’d asked Cassie to be my girlfriend. And I sure as hell didn’t want to think too hard about what it meant that she’d accepted.

Because it wasCassie.

Of course she’d done it to help me out, like I’d asked her too. It wasn’t anything more than that. If I let myself for even a second think it meant something deeper, then I was letting myself creep into dangerous territory.

Besides, it wasn’t like it was real, anyway. It was just one night, to save me from being bid off at the charity auction Coach demanded I go to in order to fix the bad press surrounding me and therefore, the team.

So why the hell did I feel like throwing up the whole time I was getting ready?

It’s just one night. It’s just pretending.

But people around us would think it wasn’t, and not only did I notmindthe idea of that. I liked it. A fucking lot.

Shit.

“Are you ready?” her voice floated in from outside the bathroom door.

I let out an exhale, yanking at the cuffs of my suit jacket as if I could find some minor thing to tweak just to hide in here a bit longer.

The door opened, and all I saw was Cassie standing there in a shimmery rose gold dress that looked like it was made for her and her alone. I doubted it could sculpt to anyone else as perfectly as it clung to her.

I had one of those fucking cartoon moments where I actually did a double-take. Jaw dropped, eyes wide, the whole ordeal.

I remembered those scenes in the movies Maggie used to watch when we were growing up. I always thought they were corny as hell, but here I was, jaw on the floor, staring at Cassie without a single thought in my head, all because of that dress.

“You look—” I started, mouth dry. “Uh—”

“Do I look okay?” she had the audacity to ask.

Understatement of the fucking century.

“You look really pretty.” I cleared my throat, nodding in confirmation, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off of her.

Or her body.

“You looksohandsome,” she said, running a hand along the sleeve of my jacket. “You always do, but I’ve never seen you dressed up like this. No wonder every girl’s in love with you.”

I couldn’t breathe.

How could she just casually spew that out, looking like she just stepped out of every guy’s most intimate dream and expect me not to grab her in my arms and kiss the shit out of her?

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