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I’m taken aback. “That’s it? You don’t have any comments? The interview today is clearly a setup. Bobbi agrees.”

“I know, and that’s why you need to look as hot as hell.”

15 LEIGH

“Let me get this straight. You’re allowing me to take a shower by myself.”

“Yes,” I reply from inside my walk-in closet.

“Why did you change your mind?”

Ugh. Why is Keanu pestering me about this? I really don’t want to disclose that I’m afraid if I assist him in the shower, my current body will react to it. I can’t handle getting another erection in front of him.

“Because we’re running out of time, and I need to pick your clothes.”

He joins me in the closet and runs a hand over the dresses hanging closest to him. “Doesn’t that only take like a couple of minutes?”

I put my hands on my hips and give him a droll look. “No. Go already. You need to wash my hair.”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a few steps, then stops and looks back at me. “Since you had your fun with my body in the shower, can I do the same?”

My eyes almost pop out of my skull. “Absolutely not!”

“Aww… come on. What if I’m horny?”

“Keanu… I swear to God, if you masturbate in the shower, I’m going to kill you.”

He laughs. “So… you’re going to kill me while I’m in your body? That’s smart.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Fine.” He walks away, but then adds from the bedroom, “You’re not gonna know anyway.”

I curl my hands into fists, digging the short nails into my palms. I hate that he’s right. I won’t know if he does anything in the shower unless I’m in there with him. But I can’t take that chance, not after what happened earlier. It’s like his body operates on a separate system from my consciousness. If only it did the same when I tried to play hockey!

Maybe it could if I stopped fearing I’ll get clobbered on the ice. But how do I shut off my brain and let his body take over?

That’s something to think about later. I need to concentrate on the task at hand, which is to find a killer outfit for today’s interview. I want to look incredibly hot but also have the girl-next-door vibe. It has to be the perfect mix of sweet and spicy. I pull out a purple minidress with a cinched waist and flowy skirt. Purple is my favorite color, and this dress fits like a glove. It’s comfortable, sexy, and cute—the ultimate trifecta.

As for shoes, he needs to wear high heels—they’ll make my legs seem longer. I choose a Christian Louboutin black pump with a three-inch heel, then bring everything to the room and lay the dress on my bed. Keanu is still in the shower, and I try my best not to picture him there.

Now it’s time to select the underwear. I pick a pair of simple cotton panties and bra. They’re usually reserved for when I’m chilling at home, but to give Keanu any of my fancy, sexy stuff is asking for trouble.

A phone rings nearby, but I don’t recognize the ringtone. It must be Keanu’s. I probably should find out who’s calling. I follow the sound until I locate his phone under one of my pillows—how in the world did it end up there? The name on the screen says Coach. Hell, I need to answer that.

“Hello?”

“You don’t sound sick. I expect to see your ass at morning practice, and don’t even try to pull that stunt again so you can hang out with your girlfriend.”

Fuck. This man is tougher than a drill sergeant. “That’s not⁠—”

“Spare me your half-baked excuses. I’ll have your ass benched faster than you can say playoffs. Are we clear?”

“Y-yes, Coach.”

“Oh, and one more thing. You’d better bring Leigh Matthews to tonight’s charity event. My daughter will be there, and she wants to meet Leigh.”

Charity event? Fuck. All my public appearances need to be approved by Gene. If I show up with Keanu, it’ll be an admission we’re dating. But it’s clear that if Keanu doesn’t bring me, he’ll get into deeper shit with his coach. I can’t let that happen. For better or worse, Keanu and I are a team, and we need to have each other’s back.