Chapter 9

The hotelin Chicago has an enormous breakfast buffet, but I'm not sure they were prepared to feed twenty professional hockey players.

All I'm saying is I'm glad I was in line first, and I feel sorry for any guests who were hoping for eggs and bacon but arrived after all the Appies.

Well, almost all the Appies. There's one who is missing, and he's the only one I really want to see.

I sit down at a table near the edge of the dining room, mostly because it's closest to the coffee station, but also because it gives me an easy view across the lobby to the bank of elevators. At least now I can watch for Nathan without looking like I'm watching for Nathan.

I glance up from my eggs at least two dozen times—every time someone new walks into the dining room—but he never shows.

Eventually, I start to worry, which is stupid. He's a grown man.

He could be on a run…in frigid Chicago winter temperatures.

He could be sleeping in or taking a long shower or any number of things that would make perfect sense and require zero explanation to the team attorney who has no reason to be concerned about him.

"Still no Nathan?" Felix asks, and I look up, attention immediately caught.

At the table beside mine, Alec, Felix, Eli, and Van are sitting together.

"I haven't seen him," Eli says.

"Hey, Summer," Alec calls when he sees me looking. "Have you seen Nathan?"

I shake my head, and Alec breathes out a beleaguered sigh. "All right. Who's up for sweet-talking the front desk into giving us a key to his room?"

"That's all you, man," Eli says, pointing to his wedding ring. "I'm a married man. I'm not sweet-talking anyone."

"Next time, we just need to make Nathan give us a key," Felix says. "This always happens. You'd think we would have learned by now."

"Wait," I say, cutting in. "What always happens? Is he okay? Why do you need his room key?"

"He's fine," Alec says. "Just asleep. The dude is impossible to wake up."

I frown, trying to wrap my head around this information. "He doesn't use an alarm?"

"He could use twelve," Felix says. "It wouldn't matter."

"I'll get the key," Van says, standing up. "Does anyone know his room number?"

"Oh. I do," I say, and four heads turn to look at me, their matching expressions saying they're definitely curious about why I'm the one who knows where Nathan's room is.

"Don't look at me like that," I say, holding up my hands. "His room is right next to mine. That's the only reason I know. I'm 203, which means he's 205."

"Got it. Be right back," Van says. "But you're all coming up to his room with me. I'm not dealing with his grumpy ass on my own."

Van is back minutes later, key in hand, and the guys all stand up. I'm tempted to join them, but I'm not sure my friendship with Nathan is longstanding enough to justify me being witness to whatever ritual is required to wake him up, no matter how curious I am.

Alec pauses and looks back at me. "Want to come? It's usually pretty entertaining."

I shouldn't.

How would Nathan feel about me being in his hotel room uninvited? But the guys do have a key. And Alec did just invite me.

I have a feeling I might regret this, but I quickly stand and hurry after them anyway.

On our way, Nathan's teammates regale me with stories of things Nathan has managed to sleep through in the past. Entire bus rides. Parties happening in his hotel room with all the lights on. Every summer camp sleep prank in the book, from feathers on his face to his hand in warm water, which did not, incidentally, make him wet the bed.

I've heard of people being deep sleepers, but never anything like this.

Nathan's room is dark, only a sliver of light trickling in around the edges of the blackout blinds covering the window, and two different alarm clocks are beeping into the darkness. Eli flips on the bathroom light, then turns on a floor lamp standing next to the wall-mounted television while Van moves across the room and turns off the alarms.

Nathan is curled up on his side, the covers pulled up to his waist. He's shirtless, and my breath catches at the sight of all that exposed skin and muscle.

So far, even with the noise we made as we opened his door and moved around and turned on the lights, Nathan hasn't even flinched. If I couldn't see the steady rise and fall of his back, I'd wonder if he was breathing.

Alec moves to the opposite side of the bed, glancing at his watch. "I'm just going to roll him off the bed," he says as he starts to lean forward. "Our team meeting is in less than ten minutes."

"Wait!" I say, stopping him, a surge of panic filling my chest. "Let me try something first."

Maybe it's my guilty conscience over being here in the first place, but I feel a need to protect Nathan from being unceremoniously dumped on the floor.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and lean close, my palm resting on Nathan's bare shoulder. His skin is warm and soft, and a storm of butterflies flutters in my chest.

This probably won't work, but I have to at least try.

"Nathan," I say, my voice close to his ear. I give his shoulder a little squeeze, rubbing my hand across his back. "Wake up."

Nathan stirs, and he lets out a little moan, but he's clearly still asleep. I'm sure of it because next thing I know, his arm is around my waist and he's tugging me down and against his body, tucking my back into his chest as he snuggles me close.

I freeze, too surprised to move. Nathan is actually spooning me, his strong arm wrapped over my shoulder, his breath warm on my neck.

The rest of the guys are barely stifling their laughter, making me all too aware that they're watching, but despite their unfortunate presence, I can't help but notice how good it feels to be in Nathan's arms.

Still. We do have an audience. And Nathan really does need to wake up.

I shift onto my back, moving Nathan's arm down to my waist so it isn't in danger of falling onto my boobs, and turn my face to look at him.

He's so close. Close enough that I can see his lashes resting on his cheekbones, the faint freckles on the bridge of his nose, the perfect bow of his upper lip.

"Hey," I say, giving his shoulder another gentle shake. "Nathan. You have to wake up now."

Finally, his eyes flutter open. At first, his arm tightens around me, and he almost smiles, his expression warm and hazy with sleep. But then he must register where he is and who I am, because he jolts, pulling his arm back and practically jumping to the other side of the bed.

I slowly sit up, readjusting the Appies-turquoise button-down I put on for the game.

"Honestly, my feelings are hurt," Alec says from the foot of the bed. "All the times I've come in to wake you up, and you've never tried to spoon me."

Nathan looks at his teammate, then looks back at me, his brow furrowed. He runs a hand through his hair like he can't quite make sense of what's going on. "What happened?" he finally asks.

"We came to wake you up," Felix says.

Nathan looks at me. "You came to wake me up?"

I grimace, not sure how to explain, but Alec comes to my rescue. "We thought she might enjoy the show. You're usually pretty entertaining when we roll you onto the floor."

"Turns out, all you needed was a woman's voice to wake you up," Van says, his smile wide. "We should have realized you wouldn't be used to that sound—at least not in your bedroom."

"Okay, get out," Nathan says.

"Are you sure I can't even get a hug first?" Alec says.

"Out!" Nathan repeats, his voice a little louder this time.

I stand against the wall as his teammates file out of the room, falling into step behind them. "Seven minutes," Alec calls from the hallway. "I'm not covering for you if you miss the team meeting."

I'm almost out the door when Nathan stops me. "Summer, wait."

I turn, letting it fall closed with a click. Nathan is standing at the foot of the bed, looking disheveled in the best way possible. I lift my eyebrows, keenly aware that we're alone, and he's only half-dressed. If he was worried last night about giving his teammates the wrong impression, the fact that I stayed in his hotel room isn't going to help.

Nathan runs a hand down his beard, clearly uncomfortable. "I just…wanted to apologize without my teammates listening." He clears his throat. "I don't know what I did in my sleep, Summer. I'm sorry if I crossed any lines."

"You absolutely didn't," I quickly say. "I'm sorry for even being here. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His lips lift in a tiny smirk. "Waking up to you did not make me uncomfortable."

Heat blossoms in my chest, and I press my lips together, fighting a smile. "Do they really just roll you onto the floor?"

Nathan shrugs. "If they have to. Did I really spoon you?"

"You…did," I say. "But it's fine. It was actually kind of nice. I haven't been spooned in a while."

I wince the second the words are out of my mouth. I mean, it's true. I haven't been. But that's not exactly relevant to this conversation, and it's the last thing I want to admit in front of Nathan. "I don't know why I just said that," I say, more to myself than to him.

"I get it," he says, and I look up to see him staring right at me. "I haven't either."

I clear my throat and glance at my watch, keenly aware that if he stares at me like that much longer, I'll start thinking about a lot more than just spooning. "You're going to be late for your meeting," I say.

He lets out a humorless laugh as he stretches. "Trust me. Coach is used to it."

I drink in the sight of him, doing my best not to blatantly stare. But honestly, I can't help it. Nathan clearly has an athlete's body. He's well-muscled without being overly bulky, and his chest is dusted with light brown hair that runs down the center of his abdomen until it disappears into the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He's wearing a chain around his neck with a ring of some sort looped through, and his shoulders are covered in freckles, something I didn't know I found sexy until right this minute.

"Have you always been a deep sleeper?"

"Since I was a kid," he answers. "At home, I've got an alarm clock that makes my entire bed shake. It works, but it doesn't travel well."

I motion toward the door connecting our rooms. "If you need help tomorrow morning, I'm happy to sneak in and be your alarm clock. I'm clearly gentler than your teammates."

Nathan eyes the door. "I think I've gotten us into enough trouble using that thing."

"Well, now I've gotten you back," I say. "You forced your way into my hotel room, now I've forced my way into yours. Shall we call it even?"

"Somehow, I think I got the better end of this deal," he says. "But sure."

I leave him to get dressed, heart fluttering in my chest like I'm a teenager who was just asked to prom by her crush.

Though crush is beginning to feel like too inconsequential a word.

Crushes are silly. Fleeting.

I think I'm beginning to like Nathan for real.

Grant emailed a detailed to-do list first thing this morning, so I have plenty to keep me busy. I set myself up at the desk in my room, laptop open and water bottle full, but focusing on work requires Herculean effort. Mostly because I can't stop thinking about Nathan. Is he right next door? Taking a nap? Hitting the gym?

I have no idea what the players are doing to occupy their time, and since I have very specific things I'm supposed to be doing, I can't think of a reason to ask them.

I press on, slogging my way through Grant's list, then taking a break to eat lunch and binge-watch two episodes of the second season of Bridgerton.

I eke out another hour of work after lunch, finally quitting at three o'clock when my brain is too anxious to read even one more word of legalese. I only have another hour before the team leaves for the arena anyway, and that feels like more than enough reason to call it a day.

But now what am I supposed to do?

I don't remember the last time I was this restless.

When Parker texts me a few minutes later, letting me know she finally arrived at the hotel, I practically bolt from my room, happy for any kind of distraction. She's still waiting at the front desk to get her key when I find her and give her a big hug.

"Hi! You made it!" I say.

"Finally. Did you just come down to meet me?"

"I needed an excuse to get out of my room. How was your trip?"

Parker frowns. "Stressful, actually. Do you have anywhere else to be right now? Can we talk for a sec?" She moves up to the counter and gives the clerk her name.

"Not busy at all," I say. "What's going on?"

Parker looks around the lobby. "Come up to my room with me? I want to change my clothes, and if I don't pee in the next five minutes, I'm going to explode. But then we can talk up there."

"Sure." I wait in silence while Parker finishes checking in, wondering what on earth could possibly have her so out of sorts. If she wants to talk to me, I'm guessing it's Appies related, but I'm still so new, I have no idea how I could help.

Five minutes later, we're upstairs, Parker's suitcase is open on her bed, and she's riffling through her clothes. She pulls out a pair of jeans and an Appies jersey and tucks them under her arm, then pulls her phone out of the pocket of her leggings.

"So, you remember the TikTok video I showed you last week? The one about Nathan?" She hands over her phone before I can answer. "Take a minute and scroll through the hashtag while I change."

I only watch a few seconds of the first #TameTheBroodingBeast video before I gasp. "Oh gosh," I say out loud. The video is even worse than the one Parker first showed me. The woman in this video is wearing an Appies jersey, Nathan's number on the front, and her language is overtly sexual, bordering on graphic. I quickly scroll to the next video, but it's hardly any better. Even the ones that aren't graphic are still pretty objectifying, and all of them are getting thousands and thousands of views and likes.

"Parker, this is terrible," I say when she walks out of the bathroom.

She frowns. "I know. It's really blown up. On the one hand, I can't stop people from creating whatever kind of content they want. On the other, the Appies are supposed to be family-friendly, and this hashtag has gotten way out of control."

"So, what do we do?" I don't even hesitate to say we because this feels like an Appies problem, and even after a few short weeks, I feel like an Appie—like I'm a part of something that matters. If there's anything I can do to help, I want to do it.

Parker drops onto the bed beside me, and I hand over her phone. "We find a way to fix it," she says. "To kill the hashtag."

"Okay. How?" I don't know enough about social media to even understand what tools she has at her disposal. She already told me she's removing tags that link to the official Appies platforms. What else can she truly do?

"I have to give them something better," she says. "Something else to be excited about."

"Create a new trend," I say, following her logic, and she nods. "Like what?"

"Actually, this is where you come in," Parker says. "If you're willing."

"Of course! Anything. What do you need me to do?"

She bites her lip as she pulls her legs up under her so she's sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Maybe let me explain before you sign on completely."

I narrow my eyes. "Go on," I say slowly.

She leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees. "All these videos are talking about taming the brooding beast, right? But what if he's already tamed? What if Nathan had a girlfriend?"

I frown. "But he doesn't have a girlfriend."

"True," Parker says slowly. "But it wouldn't take much to convince the internet that he does."

She gives me a knowing look, and I suddenly understand exactly what she's suggesting. A hot flush spreads across my chest, and I take a steadying breath.

"It wouldn't take much," Parker continues. "Just a few intentional appearances. Maybe some footage of Nathan holding hands with a woman or getting a congratulatory hug after a game. We'd only have to leave a few crumbs. I really think the fans would do the rest of the work."

I swallow against the knot in my throat. "And the woman in all those appearances—you're thinking that should be…me."

Parker's smile turns hopeful. "You guys really would make the cutest couple. I swear, the fans would eat the two of you up. But listen, I don't want you to have to lie. It's just about the power of suggestion."

"No, I get it," I say. "This is exactly what happened with my sister and Flint. After seeing what they went through, I understand how optics work."

Parker frowns, like she doesn't quite know how to process what I've told her. She knows my brother-in-law is Flint Hawthorne, but I've never told her that Audrey pretended to be his girlfriend before they got together for real.

"Wait, it wasn't real at first?" she asks.

I grimace. "Sorry to burst your bubble. They're totally in love now, if that matters."

She seems to think on this for a moment, then she shrugs. "Logan and I faked it for a while, too. Not for social media purposes. More because of some family drama. But that totally triggered us getting together for real."

I huff out a laugh. "Seriously? Does anyone just start dating anymore? Why does it feel like we're all living inside a rom-com?"

"As the social media manager of a team full of gorgeous hockey players," Parker says dryly, "I've asked myself that very question."

I shake my head, lifting my hands to my face, finding it hard to believe we're even having this conversation. I part my fingers so I can see Parker through the gap. "Are you really asking me to pretend to be Nathan's girlfriend?"

"People love a love story," she says. "If all these women think Nathan's taken, maybe we can change the narrative. Instead of talking about how much they wish they could tame him, they'll start talking about how much they love seeing him happy."

"Have you asked him yet?" I ask.

She quickly shakes her head no. "He has a lot more to gain from this than you do, so I wanted to check with you first."

I drop my hands, even as heat climbs my cheeks at the thought of Nathan saying no. The truth is, I would have already said yes if we were talking about someone else. I do feel like an Appie, and Parker has worked so hard to build the brand. If this hashtag keeps spiraling out of control, it's her problem to manage, so I want to help if only to make her job easier.

But I also want to say yes because this is Nathan. Pretending to date him isn't dating him for real, but it's close. And that's incredibly tempting.

So tempting that it's probably why I should say no.

"Parker, I don't know if I can," I say. "I want to help, but this is slightly more complicated for me."

She nods, her expression warm and open. "Okay. Talk me through what you're feeling."

I open my mouth to explain, but the words freeze in my throat, and I roll my eyes over how hard this feels. I've admitted my feelings to Lucy. I can admit them to Parker, too. But after the last twenty-four hours with Nathan, everything feels so much bigger. Like there's somehow more at stake.

"I like Nathan," I finally say. "Like, I like him for real."

Parker eyes me curiously. "Okay. But…wouldn't this be a good thing? A way to get to know him better?"

"Only if he were also interested in me," I say, "and he's not. Believe me. We've talked about it, and he's made that perfectly clear."

Her face falls. "So you'd be pretending, knowing that?—"

"It will only ever be pretend."

Even as I finish her sentence, a tiny part of me doubts my words. After the way Nathan got jealous when I was talking to Franklin last night, I have to wonder if there's not something there.

But the truth that has to matter the most is the one Nathan is willing to own. Who cares if he feels attraction if he's never willing to act on it?

"You don't have to do it, Summer," Parker says. "I wouldn't have even asked had I known."

"I know. I appreciate that."

She's quiet for a beat before she says, "Please don't take this as me trying to convince you, because your real life is more important than anything that happens on social media, but…are you sure Nathan isn't interested? I mean, I've only seen the two of you together a few times, but I definitely feel like there's chemistry."

A tiny spark shoots through me at her words, but I quickly tamp it down. "I don't think it's that he isn't into me so much as it's just a general disinterest in relationships altogether," I explain.

This makes Parker beam. "Then he can totally change his mind," she says. "Once he gets to know you, realizes how amazing you are, he'll come around."

I almost contradict her. I joked about living in a rom-com, but it's only in the books that men like Nathan actually change. It's only in fiction that the man who never dates and never wants to settle down finally meets the right woman and turns into an instantly monogamous family man, ready to have children and adopt puppies and build white picket fences.

But that isn't real life.

And yet, I can't squelch the hope that this time, Parker is right.

It's that hope that's going to make me abandon all sense of logic and say yes.

"I'll do it," I say.

Parker's eyes widen. "You'll do it?"

I'll almost definitely regret it.

But I nod my head anyway.

"Yeah. If Nathan is willing, I'm in."