Wishing she hadn’t reminded him. Wishing he was still there, still talking, still making her laugh and—
Damn it, she did not have time for this.
Her phone was still ringing. She leaned back in her desk chair, pushed away her laptop, and answered with the chirpiest “Hello” her non-chirpy vocal cords could manage.
“Gemma! It’s Ava, your publicist. Sorry for calling without setting up a time first, but that interview yesterday was amazing, and I think we need to strike while the iron is hot.”
“Uh, yeah. So, about that, I didn’t actually base my character on a hockey player.”Liar.“There are just resemblances. But I couldn’t exactly say that on live TV, not with Mason right there.”
“Mason, huh? You two are on a first name basis already?”
“It’s not like—”
“People love this story. And you two are so cute together. That’s what really sells it. All those photos of you two on the sofa, the big hockey player leaning to defend you from the evil host. That’s what he does, right? On the ice? He’s a defender.”
“It’s usually called an enforcer but—”
“Even better. ‘Enforcer’ is a hot word. People are loving those photos, turning them into the most adorable memes. I’ll send you some.”
“That isn’t necess—”
“And you knew each other in high school. That’s amazing. Everyone loves a second-chance romance.”
“It wasn’t really a romance. There was just the one kiss—” She stopped short and squeezed her eyes shut. Why did she say that?
“Evenbetter!” Ava’s voice vibrated with excitement. “They met as teens and shared a single kiss, but circumstances intervened.”
Those circumstances being that Mason let the entire school think he’d kissed her only on a dare? Terribly romantic.
“Any chance of a reunion?” Ava said.
Gemma wanted to say no. She planned to say no. Instead, she heard herself saying, “Well, he did suggest we should pretend to go on a date. To promote my book.”
A long pause. Then: “Please tell me you’re serious. The hockey star you kissed in high school is now suggestingfake dating? After a meet-cute reunion on live TV? Can I book you guys a hotel room with only one bed?”
Gemma had to laugh at that. “Sure. All the tropes. But no, I’m not fake dating Mason Moretti to help sell my book.”
“Would you fake date him just for fun?”
An image flashed. Mason, outside her apartment, leaning against the wall, looking hot as hell. Would she fake date him for fun? Depended on whether that fun included—
No. Stop.
Gemma forced a laugh. “Nice try, but no. I’m glad the interview brought some attention to the book. I’m happy to spur that along by doing anything… except fake date Mason Moretti.”
It was just past ten that morning when the rap came at Gemma’s door. She looked out the peephole this time before swinging it open to see, once again, Mason Moretti on her doorstep with coffees.
“Someone let you inagain?” she said.
“I’m Mason Moretti.”
“No, you’re a damn bullheaded jock who thinks any wall will crumble if he just keeps charging it.”
That cocky grin faltered, and she cursed inwardly. Sheshouldfeel a thrill of victory at getting a jab to actually pierce his thick hide. Instead, it always left her feeling as if she’d punched a puppy.
His face went serious as he said, “This is the last time, Gem. I promise. One last offer, and if you say no, I’ll be gone.”
Damn it. What was worse than an unreasonable Mason Moretti? A reasonable one.
