The Faker: A Marriage of Convenience Hockey Romance (Boston Hawks Hockey) by Gina Azzi (ink ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Eye roll.

Me: Even if he is, he won’t remember me.

My phone rings.

“Mimi, I regret ever teaching you to text,” I answer.

She chuckles, her warm laughter spreading through the line and right through me. As much as the reason why I’m back in Boston pains me, spending time with Mimi is a definite plus. “I would have learned without you.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Why don’t you think Austin will remember you? You used to bathe together for crying out loud.”

I wince at the visual because imagining a man like Austin bathing now…well, I shouldn’t imagine that while on the phone with my octogenarian grandmother.

“I haven’t seen him in a decade.” I point out.

“He was at your parent’s Christmas party a few years ago.”

I squint, as if that will somehow help me recall the evening in question. It comes back slowly, the clink of glasses, the sparkle of tinsel on the tree, and I vaguely recall seeing the Merrick family, Austin included. But that Christmas, I only had eyes for Steve. I barely remember anything other than my intense feelings for him.

“Hmph. He’ll more than remember you, Chloe Ann. What I don’t like is you needing me to remind you of this. Steve deserves a good talking to after the way he treated you. In my day —”

“Mimi.”

She sighs. “I know, I know. It’s none of my concern how you squander your twenties.”

I wince at her honesty, feeling very much like I wasted the second half of the decade wrapped up in Steve’s life instead of cultivating my own.

“What are you wearing to dinner?” Mimi changes the subject.

I describe my sundress and she makes noncommittal sounds that make me laugh. “Get any ideas of playing matchmaker right out of your mind,” I say. “If Austin is there, he’ll be polite and charming, the way he always is.”

“I’ll say. That boy could charm the pants off of —”

“Goodnight, Mimi.”

“Bring me doughnuts tomorrow morning. I want to know how big his biceps are now. And how he’s handling all the pressure now that he’s won the Stanley Cup. Won it, Chloe! He always did carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

I roll my eyes because that’s a stretch if I’ve ever heard one. But Mimi has always had a soft spot for the reckless athlete.

She’s still muttering when I gently remind her that I need to get ready.

“Oh, yes. Don’t forget about your eyebrows. If you pencil them in neatly, you won’t have to do that micro blading that’s all the rage these days. Although, in my day we did tattooing too you know. I can still teach you —”

“Mimi.”

“Love you, Chloe girl. Have fun tonight. Real fun. With Aus—”

I disconnect the call, muttering to myself. Even though Mimi has an uncanny ability to predict my life, she’s wrong about this one.

I haven’t thought about Austin Merrick since high school. Dinner at his parent’s house isn’t going to change that.

I eat my words.

I eat them all so quickly I choke on them.

Because when the door to the Merrick home swings open, I’m greeted by the same intense blue eyes of my teenage years. My mouth drops open and the irrational thought of how the hell I ever forgot about Austin zips through my mind.

How does anyone forget a man who looks like, well, him?

“Chloe Crawford,” Austin murmurs, giving me a sly smirk before greeting my parents.

I can hardly process the fact that he’s here, looking like a sex god mated with a Roman one, as Mary and Joe pull me into their embraces and welcome me back to Boston. A whirlwind of exclaimed greetings and hugs unfolds in the foyer.

“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Mary says, her eyes shining as she kisses Mom hello and thanks Dad for the two decorative wine sleeves he hands her.

“We’re so happy you’re back,” Joe chimes in, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I grin up at him, remembering the pep talks he used to give Savannah, Claire, and me when the neighborhood boys would exclude us from their hockey and basketball games.

Mary leads the adults into the kitchen but I hang back, my gaze finding Austin’s. He’s leaning against the closet door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You look different,” I blurt out, feeling my cheeks blaze.

He snickers. “It’s been a minute.”

“I didn’t think you’d be here.”

He winks. “But you’re happy to see me, right?”

I roll my eyes and he grins. He’s taller than I imagined and I have to crane my neck to look into his face. His smirk isn’t as sly as it once was but his eyes are sharper, bolder, scanning mine with an intensity I feel down to my toes.

Strong shoulders, a broad chest, a tapered waist. Stop checking him out! I drag my eyes back to Austin’s face, not missing the knowing glint in his eyes.

“It’s good to see you again, Chlo.” He straightens and holds his arms out for a hug like we’re old friends. I guess, technically, we are.

But this feels different. Awareness unfurls throughout my limbs, my heart rate ticks up, and my skin tingles under Austin’s gaze. I feel like a hesitant teenager again, like my skin is too tight for all of the emotions trying to break free.

I step into Austin’s embrace, my eyes closing of their own accord when he holds me close. His cologne wraps around me the way it always did but now, even that’s different. His chest is hard and warm under my ear, just like I remember. But the arms holding me now are the arms of a man and I want to sink into their strength more than I should.

A hell of a lot more than a woman with a broken heart and an uncertain future should think about.

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