Chapter 8

A fter arriving at Sugar and Ice with a few of our camera operators and getting our team set up, I delegate tasks to ensure we capture the shots we need. I want it to look like a party and get clips of Sully interacting with his closest friends. He's not doing me any favors by sitting in the corner and cutting his eyes… mostly at me.

Thankfully, the rest of the guests are loosened up. It helps to arrive after they have a few drinks in them. Sometimes, people perform in front of the camera, especially one-on-one, and forget how to act normal, but when you put them in a room full of their friends first, you can usually get more candid takes. This is an important night for Sully, celebrating his new position as head coach as well as his new role of most-eligible bachelor.

Once we've got most of our shots, I chat with Micky and some of the girls. I've previously been introduced to them, but this time I actually have time to get to know them. Raleigh is the wife of Barrett Conway, who's sitting with Sully. Barrett and Sully are best friends. They spent most of their hockey careers playing together and retired only a year apart. Sully is the godfather of their children. Their kids call him Uncle Sully. When she pulls out her phone to show me pictures with him, my heart melts into a puddle. He looks like a fun uncle.

I resist the temptation to turn around and look at him. I need to go over there and rip off the Band-Aid. It's not like we can ignore each other. After all, I owe it to him for letting me keep my producer spot, even if I have to share the role with Jeremy. I haven't decided if being coproducer is a blessing or a curse. In some ways, it feels like a punishment. If it were up to me, I'd be casting anyone but him, but my hands are tied and so are his. We're both trying to do what's best for our careers.

The soundbites we captured from his former teammates were all positive, and naturally, everyone is excited for him. There isn't a bad thing about this guy—other than the fact that I can't have him. I risk a peek over my shoulder, and he's laughing with Barrett. One of the camera operators has the shot. They're definitely getting his good side. Granted, every side is his good side. His gaze meets mine, and I turn my back to him again but still feel his eyes on me. Every time I look at his face, I'm reminded of the way he stared at me while his tongue was between my thighs. I can still feel the way he held me in his arms all night after fucking me within an inch of my life.

The room feels smaller and heat licks up my spine as I sense his presence growing closer. The women are talking about the Lakes and the recent Stanley Cup win. I smile and nod, playing my part, but can't help but think about the fact that we're in the same room, yet couldn't be farther apart. Seconds later, a hand brushes my back, and his deep voice booms in my ear.

"Can we talk?"

My knees nearly buckle, but I turn around with a fake smile pasted to my face. "Of course!" I tell the women I'll catch up with them later, and he leads me to the dark corner booth he was sitting at with Barrett Conway moments ago.

We sit down and stare at each other for a moment. I wonder if he's feeling the same thing I am, unsure of how to speak to me. Where do we even stand now that everything's changed?

"So…" I say, needing to fill the air.

He laughs, but it's devoid of any humor. "What the fuck, Kendra?"

I exhale, wanting to avoid his eyes but unable to look away.

"I'm sorry for not answering your calls," I say. "I wasn't allowed to say anything, and I didn't know how to talk to you without unloading… and honestly, I needed a couple days to work through the realization that you and I weren't happening. I mean, it was just one night—" I'm rambling.

"You couldn't have given me a little heads-up?"

"I wasn't even supposed to know it was happening, it was confidential. Pierce only told me so that I wasn't blindsided by losing another show. I would have been fired if it came back that I told you."

He exhales, looking down and nodding while rubbing the back of his neck. "I understand." His arm drops, and he raps the table with his knuckles. Finally glancing up at me again, he says what we're both thinking. "This sucks."

I nod. "Bad timing." It ended before it even began.

"I really did like you, and hope you'll give me another shot in six months when it's over."

What?

"What do you mean when it's over ?" I ask with a raised brow. This isn't just some promotional stunt. Well, it is, but the women he'll meet are real, and there's a solid chance he could meet his future wife. That's the goal of the show, the love he develops has to be genuine, or the audience won't buy it.

"I'd like to pick up where we left off."

I stretch my hands out in front of me, unsure how to answer. "The possibility of that happening is very slim. I'd prefer not to hold onto hope. You haven't even met anyone yet, you have no idea how you might feel afterward. You're a really great guy, and I hope you connect with someone casting selects."

Lie .

Yes, I want him to connect with someone, but I'm salty it won't be me.

"I heard our production assistant Rachel helped you get your first date lined up. All of the consent forms are signed, so we should be good to begin."

The premise is that he'll go out on a date with a woman. After the date is over, he can choose to either see that woman for a second date or start dating someone new. Sort of like a Monty Hall Problem, except instead of prizes, it's women—considering this is being used to promote women's hockey, the metaphor is astounding. God, I can't wait to get out of unscripted television.

"Super… Have you met them? My dates ?" He says the last word as if it tastes bitter on his tongue.

I nod. "I've seen a few screen tests from casting."

"It would have been better if you chose them." The corner of his mouth tips up, and he locks his eyes on me. "You know what I like."

My melanin can't hide the blush on my face.

"I'm happy to report that they all seem really great. They're very excited and eager to meet you."

He hums, then changes the subject. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I'm good, thank you, though." Birdie, one of the women I met earlier, is the head chef of the restaurant that catered. The food looks delicious, but at this moment, I couldn't eat even if I wanted to.

"When was the last time you had a meal?"

"Earlier." It's the truth.

"Another protein-bar lunch, was it?"

I roll my eyes. I don't always have time for lunch. My energy bars are just fine.

"You have to eat actual food, Kendra. You work too hard to be running around on caffeine and garbage bars. And drink more water."

I widen my eyes at him. "Gee, thanks. Anything else, Dad?" Easy for him to say, he's a retired hockey player. He was probably scarfing down calories all damn day to make up for the deficit.

"Dad dy ." He corrects. "And yeah, you could sleep more."

"With you?" I sass. I don't like being bossed around. The bedroom is one thing, but that road is closed off.

He laughs. "I wish."

I smile, checking out some of the camera operators to see how they're doing. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"Don't run to the point of exhaustion. That was supposed to be my job, and I'll get jealous."

I bite the inside of my cheek, wishing this could have been us. "It was fun while it lasted."

He nods and clicks his tongue. "That it was."

"We have to look at the bright side."

"What about you? Are you gonna let somebody snatch you up while I honor my contract? Do you have parents breathing down your neck to settle down?"

I bark out a laugh. "Ha! No, that will never be a problem for me."

"What do you mean?"

I curse myself for not keeping the conversation light. "My mom passed away when I was young."

"Shit, I'm sorry. That was insensitive… What about your dad?"

"You didn't know." I shrug with a smile. "My dad served in the Army and died during a tour in Afghanistan when I was young. I lived with my grandmother until college. Mom passed away my senior year. So I'm ridin' solo."

"That must have been tough." He's giving me his full attention. His gaze is trained on me, but I refuse to return it. If I have to look into those blue eyes, it'll break my put-together facade.

I roll my lips together and nod. I'd love to not talk about this. "Thanks…" I chuckle. "Sorry for bringing down the room. What a buzzkill."

"Pretty sure the party didn't start until you walked through the door," he says, and I glance at him in time to see his wink. I will miss those winks.

For the first time, the silence between us feels a little awkward. I don't know what to say. We're both victims of bad timing and unfortunate circumstances.

Sully looks down into his glass. "Do you think I should have turned down the show?"

My head cocks back. "And give up a head coaching position with the Rogues? No. Hell no . You have to go after something like this."

He nods but doesn't seem pleased.

"And hey, now I don't have to keep trying to make a deal with that basketball player and his agent. So really, you've made my job a little easier. Which reminds me, thank you for bargaining to keep me on as a producer."

"Sorry you don't get to take the lead."

I shrug. "Maybe next time, but for now, it's pretty good. Jeremy Bowers is a great producer. I'm looking forward to working with him. I'll learn a lot. This could open many doors. There aren't many young Black female producers who get this kind of opportunity. Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to see what happened between us, but I think we would both always regret not taking the leap in our careers."

He gives a shake of his head. "Damn, you're driven," he says before taking a sip of his whiskey.

"I have to be." There are no handouts. If I want this, it's up to me to get it.

"Can we still be friends?" he asks.

"That's cold, Sully." I feign surprise. "Are you really dumping me at a party?"

He chuckles.

I smile and tap my elbow against his. "Yeah, we can still be friends."

He drops his arm and wraps it around my back. His caress sets fire to my skin, and I opt to clear my throat rather than suck in a breath.

"Can I still teach you how to skate?"

The memory of being in his arms on that slippery fake ice warms me from the inside. I wrinkle my nose and scoot away from him. I love his touch, but it burns too hot. "That's probably not a good idea."

He drops his gaze to his lap with the rejection, then stares out to the crowd. "Yeah," he mutters before taking a sip from his water. My drink sits untasted in front of me. I need to keep my wits about me when Sully's near.

We look on as a few of the A/V guys pack up their gear. The show is really happening, this was only a warm-up. Soon, I'll be sitting in the front row, watching his possible love story unfold. One hell of a spectator sport. One of our cameramen, Lance, heads toward our table. He nods to Sully before speaking with me. "We got some great shots. I'm going to head home, but I'll upload everything tonight and will put together some highlights tomorrow morning. Is there anything else you need from us before we take off?"

"Nope, all good. Great work tonight. Be sure to take some leftovers from the dessert table home to Maria."

He nods. "Will do. See you tomorrow, Kendra." He holds his hand out to me, and we do our secret handshake. He looks back to the giant sitting next to me. "Have a good night, man. Congratulations."

He nods and gives his thanks. Lance heads toward the dessert table, and Sully chuckles. "Hmm. That'll be a different dynamic for us."

"What will?" I take the first sip of my drink and gently place it on the cocktail napkin.

"You bossing me around on set."

My cheeks heat as I recall all the ways he bossed me around. Every dirty thing whispered in my ear. He was in control, which allowed me to release all of mine. It was so freeing and grounding. A break from the directing and decision fatigue.

I elbow his side, and he laughs. We stay in our little corner, laughing and chatting with each other while the rest of the party continues on without us. Eventually, people filter out, and Sully's PR manager, Kailey, finds us to say goodbye. I've been in contact with her on and off this last week now that we've got the ball rolling.

"Am I good to head out?" Sully asks.

"It's your party, you can do whatever you want," she says. His heated gaze falls on me briefly. He can't be this flirty when we're working together, or I'll end up flustered. I ignore his smile. "KTBW wants to do a radio interview. I sent you an email, give me a call tomorrow and I'll go over the talking points."

"Thanks, Kailey."

"You bet." Her bright eyes transfer to me. "Great seeing you again, Kendra, let's get drinks sometime soon."

"Absolutely!" I say, even though we both know we're too busy for that kind of thing. It's still fun to pretend like I have a life outside of work.

We wave goodbye, and I finish my drink in one gulp. Fuck it.

"Did you drive?"

"No, I carpooled with the crew."

Sully taps the table twice. "Want a ride?"

"In a car?"

He chuckles. "I'm heading out, I can give you a lift."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough," he says under his breath.

Same .

"Nah. I'll Uber." I need more alcohol.

"Come on, Kendra. I'll drive you home."