night.”
Hayley blew out a breath. “Sorry that it was necessary.”
“I’m sorry you got caught in the middle.” His gaze fell to her cheek, and for a second he looked like he might reach out and touch the faded purple bruise from last night. He stuck his hands back in his pockets. “At least it got me out of there without anyone trying to talk their way into my bed.”
She nearly rolled her eyes. “Is that what started the fight with your burly pal last night? You pass on his offer?” It took a lot to keep her face straight.
“Jesus.” Jackson shuddered. “Do me a favor and don’t ask him that if you cross paths. Guy has one hell of a right hook.”
She tossed her bag on the seat. “Looking out for me again?”
“Maybe I want to stay on your good side. Can’t say I was a fan of Cal’s singing while you had me in holding.”
She started to slide into her truck, stopped. “How is it that you can remember Cal from high school but not me?”
“Cal is still the same ‘American Pie’-singing drunk he was in high school. You’re…” He trailed off, his expression almost confused before he offered a slow smile. “Something different.”
Hayley laughed. “You should really try to sound like you know whether or not that’s a good thing before saying it out loud.” She slid into her vehicle, immediately putting her window down to release the June heat trapped inside. “And get some more ice on your face before the wedding.”
“I was serious about the date thing.” Jackson leaned against the window, resting his hands on the edge of the doorframe above her.
“Pardon me?”
“You owe me, right?”
“I never said—”
Jackson pulled some papers out of his back pocket and handed them to her.
She unfolded the sheets, cringing when she saw a picture of her leading him away in handcuffs. The image and accompanying headline were from a prominent sports website. She didn’t want to, but made herself flip to the next page and then the next. More unflattering pictures of his fight and handcuffed exit, and more gossip-fueled headlines.
She remembered far worse headlines from a few post-Stanley Cup playoff parties that got out of hand, and then there were the rumors of alcohol being a factor with his car accident that had been splashed over magazines and the Internet. He was hardly unfamiliar with bad press, but this was the first time she’d played a role.
Although she knew she’d handled the situation the best way she could to prevent an all-out brawl, she couldn’t blame him for being pissed at her. Which made it even harder to understand why he wanted to go to the wedding with her.
“You know I’m the one who arrested you, right? People would have a field day posting pictures online of us together at a wedding.”
“That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
Hayley blinked. “Huh?”
“I spoke to my agent this morning. He’s the one who emailed me those.” He nodded to the pages still in her hand. “There’s a team interested in offering me an assistant coaching position, and my agent is concerned this might scare them off.”
“So if you’re seen with the cop who arrested you, he can pass it off as just us playing around or…” She trailed off, not completely sure if she had the gist of it and kind of wishing she didn’t.
“Or some kind of lovers’ quarrel,” Jackson put in.
“Right.” The warming in her stomach kicked in to full gear, and the serious look on his face wasn’t helping. Jackson’s smile was sexy and loaded with enough natural confidence to turn heads without him putting a lot of effort behind it, but the banked intensity in his eyes as he watched her, waiting, was a different beast entirely.
God, she was in so much trouble here, and she was smart enough to know it.
“Do you even want to coach?” She all but blurted the question, but it succeeded in making Jackson look away, giving her a second to lock down the nervous flutter of energy
Jean-Marie Blas de Robles