Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(20)

It doesn’t matter. I can’t help it. Sex is what always comes to mind when I think about Kingston. Not that I think about him. Not much, anyway.

Okay, yes. I think about him. A lot. A hell of a lot more than I should. I’ve had a secret crush on the guy for … shit, for most of my adult life, I guess.

“She’ll do it,” Noelle announces, her tone serious.

“Bullshit,” I counter, composing myself as best I can. “He can juggle three women in a month. I don’t think Kingston’ll have trouble finding his own girlfriend.”

Kingston laughs just as I expect him to. His reputation precedes him, and though he might find it amusing, he can’t deny it. The man has women sneaking into the locker room in the simple hope that he’ll be interested in a little personal goaltending, in reverse. His puck. Her goal.

“That’s the problem,” Spencer adds. “They want someone who’ll help his image. Someone who won’t go running her mouth to the press.”

“Why me?” I have to ask. I just have to.

“’Cause you’ll be easy to control.”

Though condescending, I know my brother is joking. If he weren’t, I would punch him. “Is that right?”

“Come on, Ell. You’re the only one we trust with this. This is serious.”

“And that’s my problem how?”

“It’s not your problem,” Spencer explains, his eyes smiling. “But you’re my favorite sister and we need your help.”

“I’m your only sister.”

“Touché.”

I shoot a quick look at Kingston, noticing the way he’s eyeing me. His dark gaze makes a slow perusal over my neck, my chest, then comes to rest on my boobs, which are currently hugged by a snug white T-shirt that has the name of my sports bar scrolled across the front in hot pink.

“Be right back,” Noelle broadcasts cheerfully.

Great, now I don’t even have backup. Then again, I don’t think Noelle is on my side, anyway.

“Are you listening to me?” Spencer prompts, drawing my attention back to him.

“I’m trying not to,” I say truthfully, putting the finishing touches on the drink I’m making. “You’re speaking stupid, a language I don’t understand.”

Spencer huffs. “It’s only for a little while. You’ll just need to be at his side, be seen with him out in public, go to the games … keep the bunnies at bay. Simple shit like that.”

“Simple shit,” I echo. Not a single thing about this whole scenario sounds simple. Especially the pretend part.

“Maybe an interview or two,” Spencer tacks on.

Of course.

“In case you haven’t noticed”—I gesture around us at the nearly empty restaurant that will be hopping in just a couple of hours—“I’ve got a bar to run. And the other, you know, little detail you seem to forget. I’ve got a twelve-year-old daughter to raise.”

Spencer does a slow three-sixty on his stool, pinning me with a get-real look when he makes it back around. “I’m sure Noelle can handle this place for a while. Plus, it’s not like you’ll have to be away every night. And you can bring Bianca to the games. She loves that shit.”

“Is that all I need to do?” I say snippily, screwing the lid back on the bottle. He makes it sound so easy. A hell of a lot easier than it actually is.

“Come on, Ell. Pretty please.”

I roll my eyes. Spencer isn’t going to quit. I know that. Still, I say, “Let me think about it.”

“Really?” Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, the hope on his face amusing.

“No,” I tell him. “I thought about it. And the answer is still no.”

A warm body presses up against my back, and I suck in a breath, realizing that Kingston has ignored my instruction and snuck behind the bar again and is now flush against me.

It’s a signature Kingston move, one he considers harmless flirting. His words.

It doesn’t feel like harmless flirting.

“What if I promise to make you that dessert you like?” he suggests, his words a rough whisper in my ear.

Mmm. His famous chocolate sin mousse. It is my favorite.

A nice bribe, sure. Everyone knows I’m a slut for chocolate.

But it isn’t going to work this time.

I know Kingston is f*cking with me. He always does. Blatantly flirting in front of Spencer because he thinks it’s funny. Little does Kingston know, but every time he touches me, I go up in flames. Every seductive word he whispers in my ear reminds me that I haven’t had sex in…

Not last year. Or the year before. Or…

Oh, damn.

It’s been three years. At least. Wow. That is a little too long.

Perhaps I should try to remedy that soon.

But definitely not with Mount Rushmore. No matter how gorgeous he is, he’s off-limits.

I’ve endured this sort of game playing for as long as I can remember, so in an effort to turn the tables on him, I pivot to face Kingston, my boobs brushing against his torso as I stare up at him. I ignore the fact that my nipples are doing a little happy dance.

Stupid nipples.

Since the bar is dimly lit and I know my brother is far enough away that he can’t see behind it, I boldly slide my hand down between us and inadvertently brush my knuckles against Kingston, grazing his dick through his jeans. “You think you can bribe me with chocolate?”