2. Nick

CHAPTER 2

NICK

S ydney Porter looked more gorgeous than ever in her signature black dress and matching heels. Her straight, dark hair was longer than I remembered and even though she was currently scowling at me, dark eyes blazing, all I could think about was kissing those full pink lips. Good thing I’d have a week to convince her to give us another chance.

“You can’t be serious,” Sydney said, shaking her head as she pushed past me into the bright hallway. “This isn’t anywhere close to a fair deal. The Copley Gala is one night; you’re asking me to go home with you for a week!”

I tagged along beside her down the hall, keeping pace and grinning, pissing her off even more. “Yeah, I hope you can negotiate a better deal with the shoe company.”

She punched my bicep and I pretended to flinch. “Watch it—these guns are worth a lot to this team.”

“Right, how could I forget? Can’t go injuring the talent.”

“Exactly. C’mon, Syd, please? I know you always stay in the city for Christmas. It would mean a lot to me if you’d do this.” I gave her my best puppy dog eyes, praying she’d agree to the deal.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m even considering doing this with you. We work together now; it’s a huge HR no-no.”

“No one has to know and besides, it’ll be fun. Way better than the Gala.”

She paused, tipping her head to the side before answering. “Fine. Since you just rescued me from a solid twenty-four hours’ worth of work, I’ll go. But it has to be on the DL. I need this job.”

“I get it. I do, too. This is going to be fantastic, though.” I grinned at her, a quick blast of relief flooding through me. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning around nine. That way we can avoid rush hour. Be sure to pack something to wear for Christmas Eve service and the neighborhood party we go to every year.”

“Ugh. I hate you.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit,” I teased.

“One week, Nick. That’s it.” She waved her index finger in my direction as a reminder.

“I hear you. That’s the deal.”

She thrust her hand out and we shook on it.

“See you tomorrow morning,” I said, thrilled I’d actually convinced her to go with me.

Sydney rolled her eyes one more time for dramatic effect, then flounced away. My eyes followed her perfect ass until she stepped into the elevator. I shot her a quick wave as the doors slid shut; she just shook her head at me.

Christmas was coming early for me this year and I intended to make the most of our time together.

S ydney lived in a condo in Wrentham, about ten minutes from the office. Convenient, since she worked practically seven days a week during the season. Our hectic schedules were the main reason we’d broken up when I was out in Arizona—we hardly had time to talk, let alone see each other. Between my training and her non-stop publicity gigs, she didn’t think it made sense to keep dating. I disagreed, but what can you do?

I pulled into her driveway, but didn’t even get a chance to turn off the car before she raced out the door, her bright pink rollaboard trailing behind her.

“Morning, sunshine,” I said as she opened the passenger door and tossed her purse into my SUV, then reached in and set her travel coffee mug into the cupholder.

“Morning.”

“I would have carried your bag for you,” I said, popping the trunk. I lifted her bright pink suitcase into the back.

“I know. But I didn’t want to make us late.” She climbed in and I closed the door behind her.

“We’re fine. We’ll miss most of the Boston traffic from here. You excited?” I asked, cutting my eyes at her and grinning.

“Oh yeah. Nothing I love more than spending the holidays with my ex.” She took a sip of her coffee as I turned out onto the main road and headed towards I-95.

“About that.”

“Nick.” Her voice was low.

“What?” I fiddled with the radio station, searching for a traffic update before settling on the Top 40 station.

“What do you mean—about that?”

“It’s nothing, really. No big deal.”

“Uh-huh. You’re playing the player here, buddy. I’m a PR professional; it’s my job to know when people are lying and you’re full of shit. Spill. Now.”

I drummed on the steering wheel, nerves slamming around in my gut, my palms sweaty. “It’s just, my mom—the whole family, really—might be under the impression we’re still together.”

“What?” Sydney’s voice rose an octave and a half and my eardrums felt it. “How? Why?”

“She liked you so much, I didn’t have the heart to tell her we broke up.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or pissed off.” She slumped back in her seat, her empty hand fidgeting with a button on her coat.

“I’d go with flattered. Start the week on a positive note.” I grinned over at her and she chucked me lightly in the arm.

“Hey, what did I tell you about these biceps?”

“Funny, Milton, real funny. I can’t believe you never told your family we broke up.” She shook her head at me, her dark ponytail swishing against the leather seat.

“Why? So I could listen to my mom’s lecture on settling down soon so she can finally have grandbabies? No, thank you. I was out in Arizona, they were here—why rock the boat? I dodged the topic once or twice, but mostly it was all good. Then when I got traded back and Christmas came up, they were all about you coming with me.”

“When you’re done with football, you should move into negotiations for the league. You just ran the fastest con job on me ever.”

“Good, right?” I smiled slyly at her.

“No. Not good. Because eventually you’re going to have to confess to your family we broke up. I agreed to go home with you, not participate in an elaborate dating ruse. There’s a difference you know.” She chewed the edge of her nail, a nervous habit she’d been trying to break since I’d known her.

“C’mon, Syd. Just for the holidays. One week. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I really don’t like this, Nick.”

“I know, I’m sorry. And I should’ve been straight with you yesterday. But I really need this, Syd. Please? I don’t want to crush my mom’s dreams at Christmas.” I stole a quick glance, locking my eyes with hers.

“Fine. For your mom. But you have one week, Nick. Then you have to tell them we broke up. Because we obviously can’t keep this up.”

My heart constricted at her words; the break-up had been her idea all along and was never part of my plan. To be honest, Sydney Porter was the best damn thing that’d ever happened to me outside of football and I wasn’t keen on giving up on us so easily.

But if that’s the game we were playing, fine. It was on. I had one week to convince Sydney to take a chance on us, HR regulations be damned. It might be tough, but I was up for the Christmas Challenge.