Page 6 of Love is Fake

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he says and gives me a pointed look. I nod hurriedly in acknowledgement, feeling a little like I’ve just dodged a bullet.

“Come on, Dec, you know traffic out of Manhattan is a nightmare. Cut her some slack,” Kai pipes up from behind me and I send him an appreciative smile. He winks at me and I notice ‘Dec’ rolling his eyes at the obvious flirtation. “Besides, Nox only just got here.”

“Nox?” I frown between the two men, trying to figure out what the crap is going on and who the hell my mystery client is.

I like to be prepared and have all my ducks in a row, some people (Kiara) might say I’m even a little OCD about it, but it’s part of what makes me good at my job. So, this situation, where I’m totally on the back foot is not something I’m comfortable with, which makes me spiky.

“Is someone going to tell me why I’m here or is the guessing part of the fun?” I plant my hands on my hips, looking between the two men.

Kai snorts a laugh and Dec looks like he’s about to say something when his gaze goes over my left shoulder, his eyes widening slightly at whatever orwhoever he sees there.

“What the hell areyoudoing here?” I freeze, recognizing a voice that makes me go hot and cold inside.

No. No. No. Evenmyluck can’t be this bad.

But even as the thought enters my head, I know it’s just wishful thinking.

Slowly, I turn around to face the last person in the world I want to see right now or, you know, ever.

Lennox Fucking Gray.

Chapter

Two

“Not only are you a hazard behind the damn wheel, but you’re a stalker too? Christ, men must be breaking down the door to get to you.” Lennox glowers down at me with dark eyes, which would be hypnotic if he weren’t clearly irate beyond belief. He’s changed into workout gear, shorts showcasing strong legs and a right knee that’s more than a little swollen.

I mentally flip through the sports news I’ve read recently and try to remember if there was anything about him suffering a knee injury on the ice. There’s nothing, although I’m getting a vague recollection of a particularly nasty scrum in the final game of the season, but Gray definitely wasn’t stretchered off. That would have made headlines. Gray isn’t just the front-man of the New York Pelicans, he’s one of the most recognizable faces in sport, period.

“You know each other?” Dec looks between the two of us, each staring at the other in confusion.

“This is the chick who rear-ended me.” Lennox motions towards me, his expression suspicious as if he seriously thinks that I followed him here.

“It was anaccident,” I repeat the point I’d made at the roadside, working to keep the bite out of my voice and not being wholly successful. “It wasn’t like I hit you on purpose.” I cross my arms over my chest going into the defensive posture that seems to be my default setting when it comes to this man.

“Uh-oh.” Kai lets the words out under his breath, but in the silent tension of the room you could have heard a pin drop.

“And what, you turning up here is just another ‘accident’?” Lennox uses air quotes mockingly as he continues to glower at me like a grumpy bear.

“Meturninguphere as you so elegantly put it, is purely professional. I was sent here by my boss. I didn’t know you were the client.” And if I did, I would have responded to Kiara with two words. Hell. No.

“Oh yeah? And what kind of ‘profession’ brings you here?” Lennox looks me up and down lazily, pure male appreciation in his gaze and I resist the urge to take a step back. There’s no way I’m letting this guy know he’s intimidating me. “The strippers you hang out with are usually a helluva lot less prickly than this one, Kai.” He delivers the line to his surfer look-a-like friend who makes a face that speaks to the cringeworthiness of the situation.

I stare at Lennox in shock, my mind struggling to process what he’s just said. Did he really just call me a stripper? Not that I have any issues with the profession, whatever floats your boat, but I sure as hell didn’t go to school for four years to be dismissed like that.

“Nox, it’s nothing like that -,” the preppy one, Declan makes a calming motion towards the other man, his eyes flicking nervously between us like he’s calculating what the chances are of a lawsuit or, worse, a negative story in the press about the New York Pelicans’ darling MVP.

“I’m your physical therapist, Mr. Gray.” I’m impressed at how confident my voice sounds. Even someone who knows mewouldn’t be able to tell how angry I am, partly because I never really get angry, although Lennox Gray is testing that theory.

He blinks at me, frowning, and I don’t miss the way his expression darkens at my formal tone. “You’re not Michael.”

I roll my eyes internally, ignoring how his stare is even more intense without the shadow of the ball cap he’d been wearing on the road to distract from the hard lines of his face.

“As I explained to your manager,” I gesture towards Declan, taking a chance on the relationship between the two men, “I’m Michael’s replacement.”

Lennox gives me an unimpressed look and just shakes his head. “No.”

I bristle at the dismissiveness in his tone.

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