Page 41 of The Closed Off Captain

It takes me a moment to do what she requested. I remind myself to be professional and step towards the large man in front of me. I don’t meet his eyes as I put my arms up and over his shoulders. “Chloe, can you let them hang further down?”

“Uh, that’s as far as I can reach,” I tell her, still not looking at Gunner.

“Okay. Then, instead, wrap your arms around his torso.” I inwardly groan as I do as she says. “Tighter,” she calls out. “More.”

Gunner wraps an arm around my back suddenly and pulls me to his chest so tight that we’re plastered against each other. “Perfect,” Olivia says. “Now, put your ring hand on top of your other.” I try to do as she says, but my brain feels like mush. All I can think about is the hard body that I’m pressing my entire body against. Gunner makes a sound, and I can’t tell if it’s a good sound or an annoyed sound. I don’t look up at him because it would crush me if he had a look of frustration or irritation on his face right now. I’m a strong, independent woman, but I’m notthatstrong. Gunner’s hand moves up and down my spine slowly.

“Relax,” he whispers.

His words and hand should make me relax, but it does the exact opposite. I feel strung tighter than a bow. As soon as Olivia says she’s done, I step back from Gunner, putting much needed space between us. I don’t look at him as I walk over to Olivia, who’s looking at the photos she took. “Any good ones?” I ask.

“Yes.” She doesn’t offer to show me, and I don’t ask. “Give me a few days, and I’ll send you a link to look at them.” She stubbornly refuses our help as she packs up her equipment. “All right, Cousin. It was good to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” She kisses him on the cheek. “And take care of that shoulder.” Then she turns to me. “Chloe, it was great to finally meet you. Make Gunner bring you to the next family event.”

“It was nice to meet you too.”

She leaves, and it’s suddenly quiet. Way too quiet. “Well, I should get going,” I say.

“Want to stay for dinner? I’m going to order a pizza.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “Since when do you eat pizza?” Gunner never eats junk food.Never.

He scowls. “Since I can’t play for two weeks.”

I nod. “So, you want to drown your sorrows in pizza?”

“If I say yes, will you stay?”

I consider it for a heartbeat, but then the rules come back to me—the rules I set so I wouldn’t forget that this isn’t real. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Rule number four says we won’t seek each other out outside of work. We’re definitely breaking that rule.”

"No, we’re not. We just took pictures for my career’s sake. Right? And now, I’m just doing the polite thing—feeding you at a work event.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s really pushing it.”

“Come on, Chloe. Don’t make me drown my sorrows in pizza by myself,” he says, using my own words against me. I finally cave.

“Fine. I’ll stay but don’t order any for me.”

He pulls out his phone to place an order, and I grab my bag and pull out my laptop. “Do you ever stop working?” he asks a few minutes later as he settles on the couch next to me.

“Nope.”

“You work too hard.”

I snort. “Says the professional hockey player who plays eighty-two games in a season.”

He leans against the back of the couch. “At least my salary reflects it.”

“Ouch, Coftman! That was harsh.”

“I didn’t mean it to be. You just work really hard, and your pay should reflect that.”

I frown. “My pay is just fine, Coftman. Not all of us can be millionaires.”

He goes quiet, and I wonder what he’s thinking. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says softly.

I glance over at him. “You didn’t. I know you make a killer salary, Coftman.”

“You should ask for a raise,” he says after a little bit.

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