Page 65 of The Kiss Connection

“It’s toast, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t need the attention.” I wave dismissively.

“Right, I know you wouldn’t date him for the attention. That’s something I’d do. Not necessarily Myles Dax, but … never mind.”

She is full of excitement, like a shaken-up soda bottle ready to explode.

Me?

I’m nervous and just hoping I don’t say anything that will screw up our little fake romance. Myles and I spoke about it, and we both decided the truth will be easier than keeping up with a bunch of lies.

“Juniper.” A gentleman in an Ice Dragons’ polo shirt grabs our attention from the aisle. It’s the same guy from last time, the one who made us get up and leave during the game.

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” I say. The game hasn’t even started. Is this because Myles skated over and interacted with me during warmups?

Shit.

Are we getting kicked out again?

The gentleman smiles and shows me a jersey that looks pristine. “Myles wants you to wear this tonight. He says you’re distracting in that ensemble.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, he does.”

He tosses me the jersey, and I catch it, glancing onto the ice at Myles, who is doing stretches with his teammates. Myles winks at me, and I shake my head but slide the jersey on over my clothes.

The jersey is too big, it’s sized for Myles, but it smells like him without all the grime and sweat.

“Can I get one too?” Rowan shouts back at the guy who delivered the jersey to me.

The Ice Dragons lose, but it’s a close game for most of the night. It came down to the final two minutes in the period when they give up two points—one for a goal and the other a penalty shot.

Myles and I already agreed in advance to meet up for drinks publicly at Blue Line, whether the guys win or not.

Rowan and I head out of the arena and walk the couple of blocks in the cold to the bar. “Do you want to grab drinks?” Rowan asks, and I nod adamantly and head to the counter, snagging a seat at the bar.

It would feel weird to sit at their reserved table without them. I’m not sure someone wouldn’t come up and say something to us anyhow.

The minute the door opens and the team starts pouring in, the noise level increases tenfold. Myles and Conrad walk in together, and nearly all the guys head to their reserved table. All except for Myles, who makes a beeline for me.

“Hey, I thought you were going to wait for me at the arena,” he says, kissing my cheek as he greets me.

Instantly, my face is hot, and I pull him closer, feeling Rowan’s gaze on us. “Sorry, I misunderstood. I thought we were meeting at the bar. Forgive me?”

His hands rest on my hips, and he steps closer, nudging my knees apart. Myles leans his forehead closer, his mouth nearly touching mine. I can feel the heat of his breath on my cheek and then my lips.

He steals a kiss, and for a moment, the world around us fades into nothingness.

It’s the first time I’ve kissed Myles Dax, and while it’s entirely because we’re fake dating, I find my fingers tangling onto his shirt, pulling him tighter.

His lips are warm, the sweet scent of almonds and something spicy tickles my nose. He smells really good.

Myles pulls back first, breaking apart the kiss, his eyes studying mine. It’s like he’s silently asking me if that was okay.

“Wow, so you two really are a thing,” Rowan says, sipping her drink.

I smile, pleased that we’re able to pull it off.

Myles’s thumb grazes my cheek. I can’t quite figure out what he’s thinking, but he nods toward the reserved seats and the tables in the back. “Join us,” he says, and he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers together.

He leads me toward the back of the bar where his teammates are hanging out, having a beer. They’re not as lively as usual, I’m assuming from the recent loss, but they’re still upbeat and seem to be having a nice time.