Never Say Never: An Enemies-to-Lovers Secret Identity New Adult Sports Romance (Western Wildcats Hockey Book 4)

Well, hell.

This is not how I saw this night unfolding.

Now that I’m in his truck, I realize what a bad idea it was to leave my silver Audi in the arena parking lot and take one car. I’m trapped with these people until Colby decides to drop me off.

Ugh.

Someone needs to explain why I make the worst decisions when I’m around this guy.

I peek at him from beneath the fringe of my lashes.

Even though I’m reluctant to admit it, the answer is obvious.

The guy is stupid hot.

But still…

It’s not like I haven’t been around good-looking men before. I live in LA. It’s hot people central there. Everyone is either an actor, model, or singer trying to make it in Hollywood. And for the most part, they’re ridiculously health conscious and looking for ways to turn back the hands of time. Whether that’s with wheatgrass shots, plastic surgery, goat Pilates, or the newest weight loss drugs that have flooded the market.

After nearly a decade of living and working there, I should be immune to his physical attributes.

Sadly, nothing could be further from the truth.

He flicks a glance in my direction and catches me staring. “What?”

A sizzle of electricity zips across my skin.

That right there is exactly what the problem is.

This kind of all-encompassing attraction isn’t something I’ve experienced before.

Not even with Axel.

I keep telling myself that if I give it enough time, it’ll eventually dissipate.

I mean…it has to, right?

That, unfortunately, has not turned out to be the case. If anything, these feelings have only intensified since our first run-in at Slap Shotz.

“This was a terrible idea,” I blurt, unwilling to share my innermost thoughts with him. “There’s no reason for me to meet your parents. You and I aren’t actually together.”

“Did you forget that we’re married?”

I’ve been so intent on him that it’s almost a surprise when he slides his truck into a parking spot outside the restaurant.

“How could I when you’re constantly reminding me?”

It’s a legit question.

For a guy who’s been portrayed as being anti-monogamous, he’s warmed to the idea of marriage with a ridiculous amount of ease.

It doesn’t make the least bit of sense.

He flashes a slow smile. The one that makes his dimples pop and wink.

As if on cue, my panties flood with heat.

I narrow my eyes. “Stop that right now.”

The grin intensifies as he fights back his laughter and feigns innocence. “What? What did I do?”

I stab a finger in his direction. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

This man is completely dangerous.

Not to mention, shameless.

He lays a hand over his heart as his expression turns sincere. “Can you really blame me for attempting to seduce my wife?”

“Please.” With a snort, I pop the handle and exit the vehicle.

What I need is some fresh air to clear my head.

I don’t get more than three steps before Colby pulls up alongside me. He throws his arm around my shoulders and hauls me close enough to feel the sculpted muscles that shift and bunch beneath his sweatshirt as the woodsy scent of his cologne slyly inundates my senses, making it impossible to think straight.

Is it bad that all I want to do is inhale a big breath of him?

And then hold it captive in my lungs?

Those thoughts come to a screeching halt when I glance at the scene unfolding in front of me and stumble. There are a handful of photographers snapping pics of Colby’s parents.

The sight is all it takes for icy cold tendrils of panic to wrap around my heart and squeeze until it becomes impossible to breathe. Even when we were in Vegas for the weekend, I didn’t feel this kind of panic and fear. Maybe that’s because Sin City is brimming with celebrities and famous people. You can’t swing a stick without hitting one.

It was easier to blend in with the raucous crowds.

Kind of like hiding in plain sight.

But here?

With the McNichols family?

Anyone with Colby will garner interest. It wouldn’t take that much digging to figure out who I really am.

His arm tightens around my shoulders as he shoots me a concerned look. “Is there a problem?”

It never occurred to me that paparazzi would be here snapping pictures. Maybe it should have. I don’t follow sports, but from everything I’ve heard, Gray McNichols is a big deal.

“Britt?”

I blink out of those thoughts and force my attention from his parents. It’s tempting to take a step in retreat. And then another. Along with a third until I’ve distanced myself from them.

“Yeah?”

He repositions me until we’re facing each other on the sidewalk before resting his hands on my shoulders. The weight of them does the impossible and soothes the worst of the panic trying to eat me alive.

His serious gaze searches mine as if it’s possible to read my thoughts without me explaining a word. “What’s going on?”

I break eye contact long enough to throw a cautious glance at the small group.

Another photographer joins the fray.

“I didn’t realize there’d be paparazzi.” My voice comes out sounding as if I’m being strangled.

Colby flicks a look at the commotion on the sidewalk before shrugging. “Yeah, sometimes they find out where he’ll be and want pictures or sound bites. It’s annoying but not a big deal. Dad is usually good about giving them what they want so they’ll leave us alone.”

I’m not unfamiliar with the practice. It’s something we do as well.

I gulp down my nerves. Any minute they’re going to explode from me. “Right. I just…don’t want my picture taken. Okay?”

His thick brows pinch together as he studies me as if I’m a strange specimen he’s stumbled across. “Yeah, sure. Why don’t you head inside and wait for us while I join my folks and snap a few photos.”

The relief that crashes over me is almost enough to weaken my knees. “Really?”

He strokes his fingers along the curve of my jaw as his voice dips. “Of course. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

When we’re about twelve feet away, Colby’s father waves us over. As soon as the photographers realize that his son has made an appearance, they lift their cameras and snap a bunch of shots. The flash goes off as I duck my head, allowing my hair to fall in front of my face, and slip from his embrace before speedwalking inside the restaurant.

It’s only when the glass door closes behind me that I realize I’m trembling. I release an unsteady breath and watch from a safe distance as the three of them are photographed together. After about five minutes, Gray raises a hand, putting a stop to the impromptu photo shoot.

“You know, I never considered myself a woman who’d go all why choose, but damn, those two are fine with a capital F.”

It takes effort to rip my gaze away from Colby and stare at the older woman who’s sidled up beside me while I wasn’t paying attention. She’s probably somewhere in her mid to late forties and wearing a gaudy faux fur jacket.

At least, let’s hope the fur is faux.

Because…eww.

Instead of waiting for a response—as if I have one—she glances at the trio again.

It’s tempting to tell her that she’s got a little something-something on her chin. But I suspect she wouldn’t give a damn.

“Are you with that handsome specimen of a man?” she asks.

Before I can respond, the three of them saunter through the front entrance, commanding everyone’s attention. Colby’s gaze slices to mine as he beelines in my direction and slips an arm around my waist, steering me toward his parents.

“Guess that answers the question,” the woman says with a laugh.

Colby frowns, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Do you know her?”

“Nope.” The hostess leads his parents to a table in the main dining area. “Although, she was just commenting how much she’d enjoy being in the middle of a McNichols sandwich.”

His wide eyes cut to mine before his head whips in her direction for a second time. “I’m sorry, she said what now?” Disbelief laces his voice.

It’s kind of adorable.

A smile trembles around the corners of my lips. “Oh, I think you heard me the first time.”

“Guess I was really hoping that I didn’t.” Before I can tease him any more, he says in a hushed tone, “And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t mention a word of it to my mother. She’s reached her limit with women objectifying my father.”

I can only imagine what Whitney McNichols has put up with being married to the handsome NHL player turned national sportscaster.

Once we reach the table, Colby pulls out my chair. He smirks when I raise my brows.

After I settle on the seat, he pushes it in before leaning close. “Just so you know, I wasn’t raised by wolves. Manners were instilled within me. And just in case you’re curious—I’m house trained as well. I won’t even leave the toilet seat up.”

My gaze gets snagged by his parents, who are grinning at us. Heat slams into my cheeks as I pick up my glass of water and take a sip. I’m hoping it’ll douse the flames that have been ignited deep inside.

Within seconds of Colby dropping down beside me, a waitress arrives to take our drink order and rattle off the house specials. I’m barely paying attention. As nice as these people seem, I just want to get this over with and get out of here.

“So, Britt. Tell us about yourself,” his mom encourages before glancing at her son. Speculation dances in her eyes as if she’s excited by the prospect of him settling down. “Colby hasn’t been very forthcoming regarding the details of your relationship.”

I flick a beseeching look at him, hoping he’ll jump in and rescue me.

I have no idea what to tell her.

It certainly won’t be the truth.

As I mentally fumble for an answer, a middle-aged couple stops by the table. The man’s gaze encompasses all four of us before settling on Gray.

“Hello, Mr. McNichols. I apologize for interrupting your dinner, but I was wondering if we could get an autograph and quick photo. I’m a huge fan. Way back to when you played for Hillsdale University.”

By the expression on Gray’s face, he’d prefer to decline the request. It’s almost a surprise when he rises to his feet with a nod.

“Sure. No problem.” He glances at his wife and his expression softens. “Hillsdale University…that was a long time ago. Wasn’t it, Whit?”

Her lips bow up in response. “Almost another lifetime.”

That interaction lasts for about five minutes as the man launches into a story about his son playing high school hockey. Just as Gray wraps up the conversation, saying goodnight to the man and his wife, someone else wanders over.

And then a few kids who are excited to meet an NHL legend.

I have to hand it to Gray McNichols. He’s patient and kind when talking with fans. I know exactly what it’s like to want to say no.

To enjoy a rare bit of privacy.

Normalcy.

But you can’t do that.

Because then you’re a stuck-up bitch who doesn’t care about her fans or remember where she came from.

Before you know it, someone looking for their fifteen minutes in the spotlight comes out of the woodwork to tell an obscure story that proves exactly what a conceited C U Next Tuesday you are. Most of the time, they’re flat-out lies or some twisted version that no longer resembles the truth.

A few years ago, my childhood neighbors wrote a tell-all book about what it was like to watch me grow up. Not only was it creepy, but a total invasion of privacy. It hurt even more because we’d been close to them.

“Would you mind if I took a group shot?”

Dread coils tight in the pit of my belly as a fresh wave of nerves crashes over me. My chair scrapes against the wood as I shove it away from the table and jerk to my feet. “I’ll be right back. I’m, ah, going to the restroom.”

I walk away before the guy can pull his phone out and snap away. When you’re in the public eye, suddenly there are no boundaries. Even if I said no, he might have taken one anyway.

The backdoor of the restaurant catches my eye on the way to the bathroom. For a second or two, I consider sneaking out and taking off. I’m sure Fallyn or Ava would come to my rescue if I needed them.

Hell, I’ll ride share home, if that’s what it takes.

I shove through the door, grateful to find the small room empty. My hands bite into the smooth porcelain of the sink as I stare back at my reflection. Beneath the bright lights, my skin has been leached of all color.

Even though I tell myself that I’m panicking for no reason, it does nothing to alleviate my concerns.

Deep breath in and then slowly out.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

I study my face in the mirror, looking for similarities.

There are none.

None that are a dead giveaway.

I don’t resemble my alter ego in the slightest.

My hair, makeup, and clothing are different.

Everything has been transformed.

And yet…I’m still living in fear.

It only takes one person to make a comment.

Even as a joke.

When my phone chimes with an incoming message, I slip it from my pocket and glance at the screen.

You okay?

As much as I want to hide out indefinitely, that’s not possible.

I need to get back.

If fans are still snapping pics, I’ll sneak out the back door. Then I’ll shoot Colby a text and tell him that I didn’t feel well.

It’s not a total lie.

It’s just not the truth.

Decision made, I slip from the bathroom only to find the guy who has been a constant on my mind leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

A squeak escapes from me as my heart riots against my ribcage. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you didn’t ditch me.”

I snort, unable to believe that he can read me with such ease. It’s disconcerting. “Please. Like I’d do something like that.”

He hikes a brow. “You took off in Vegas.”

Well…there’s not much I can say to that, is there?

Before I can respond, he reaches out and snags my fingers, drawing me close enough to wrap up in his arms. I hate just how comforting I find the gesture.

“Does it really bother you that much to have your photo taken?”

I chew my lower lip, unsure how to respond.

The truth isn’t an option.

Even though it’s tempting to blurt it out and clear my conscience. I hate all this lying. When I made the decision to step away from my old life, it never occurred to me that I’d make such good friends and it would become necessary to hide the truth. Or that I’d constantly need my guard up in order not to make a misstep and reveal too much.

But can I trust Colby to keep my secret?

We might be married, but we barely know each other.

In the end, I shake my head. “I’m just not very photogenic.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re gorgeous.” His eyes narrow. “I get the feeling there’s more to it than that.”

“Nope. Looks like your Spidey senses are on the fritz.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. My father told everyone that he’s done and asked for some privacy.”

I’m curious if his fans will abide by the request.

Unfortunately, it looks like I’m about to find out.

Colby slips his arm around my waist and steers me back to the table.

His mother’s sparkling gaze bounces from him to me and then back again. “All right, I want all the details. How long have you two been going out? You’re so comfortable with each other. It’s really lovely to see.”

Oh crap.

It probably would have been helpful if we’d concocted a story, since we’re not about to reveal the truth.

A nervous laugh escapes from me. “Oh, no. We just⁠—”

“Got married,” he says.

My jaw turns slack as I stare at Colby with wide eyes.

One glance around the table tells me that I’m not the only one stunned by his response.