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I lean in closer and whisper, "Let's just say I'll owe you a metric ton of lasagna."
"Oh, crap. Am I going to need bail money? I just started this job, so I haven't even gotten my first paycheck."
"You worry too much, Gabs. Trust me, this plan is foolproof."
She gives me a skeptical look but doesn't press the issue. "Fine, but if you end up in jail, I'm not putting up any cash."
"Deal." I raise my water glass, flashing her a grin. The grin falls away as I catch a glimpse of George at the other table, glancing in our direction.
This isn't like the fire alarm I pulled in high school to get out of an exam. This is serious business. It’s my career. And I can't afford to make any mistakes.
Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
I motion for the waiter. "Uh, can I get a scotch on the rocks, please?" I pause. "Make it a double. I think I'm gonna need it."
Chapter 5
Gabi
Ican't believe how much fun I'm having tonight. When I agreed to join Jacob and the Chicago Blades for dinner, my expectations were pretty low. I mean, athletes talking shop all night sounded about as thrilling as watching paint dry.
But here we are, three hours later, and I'm laughing at an absurd story about a prank war in the team's locker room.
Maybe it's the stomach full of lasagna, or maybe it's just Jacob's infectious energy, but I'm feeling pretty relaxed.
As the evening winds down, I find myself genuinely enjoying everyone's company. The banter is effortless, and George Corso hasn't even glared at us since that first encounter.
Could it be that the world, and this job, isn't as intimidating as I had thought? And Jacob, with his charm and wit, is making me forget why I was anxious in the first place.
Dinner wraps up, and we're all saying our goodbyes. Jacob gives me a warm smile. "Thanks for coming, Gabs. This was great."
"Yeah, it really was," I admit, a bit surprised at my own sincerity. "I had a lot of fun."
Fun. It's a word I wasn't sure I was allowed to use around Jacob Walker anymore.
Since that fateful night we slept together, our dynamic has taken a dive.
As I walk back to my car, memories of that night at Josh's party start flooding back. Jacob had arrived impossibly late, practically stumbling through the door. His disheveled hair and glassy eyes told me he had been drinking heavily long before he showed up.
I should have known better than to engage, but he looked so lost. So broken. So when he asked me to take a walk with him, I couldn't say no.
We ended up at a nearby park, drinking and sitting on the swings—talking about everything and nothing until dawn. And then it happened.
I'm not sure who initiated the kiss, but it was like fireworks going off in my head. It was passionate and intense, fueled by alcohol and pent-up emotions.
By the time I realized what was happening, we were already back at the party, in an upstairs bedroom, tearing each other's clothes off.
I remember every detail of that night with Jacob, and it still sends shivers down my spine. As the alcohol's fog lifted, I took in how stunning he looked, even more so without his clothes.
Tall and chiseled, his physique was a testament to his years playing hockey. The muscles rippled under his smooth skin, and I couldn't help but adore every inch.
But it wasn’t just his body that left me breathless.
It was his touch. His taste. His mouth.
God, that mouth. It was made for sin.
And not just in the way he kissed me; it was the words he whispered, each one filthier and sweeter than the last. His voice, raw with desire, spoke of things I never imagined coming from him. As he removed my clothes, his words painted a sinful picture, and when he finally placed his mouth between my legs, the world outside ceased to exist.
