Always Only You by Chloe Liese (z-lib.org).epub

The world freezes with a resounding record scratch. Well, that’s what
happens inside my head.
Ren’s usually a pro at press conferences, but this is new territory for him.
Ren never gets photographed with a woman, never gets asked about evidence of
a love interest, because there have never been any. I’ve seen Ren blush a lot the
last couple of days. I’ve seen him trip over his words and scramble for the right
thing to say. I’m prepared for this to turn astronomically bad.
But instead Ren blinks those pale cat eyes and leans on his elbows, close to
the microphone. “Who I do or don’t spend time with outside the rink has nothing
to do with my professional performance, which is the focus of this press
conference. While we’re on that subject, I’ll be returning for Thursday’s game.
Next.”
He points and takes another question, moving on effortlessly.
Hot. Damn.
“He’s so good,” Nicole mutters. She smiles over at me. “You two, huh?”
“Oh, no, it’s not—”
“I’m teasing. Darlene told me you’re just staying with him. I’m sorry about
your house being broken into.”
I exhale. I hate those kinds of teases. I never know someone’s kidding until
they enlighten me. My heart’s pounding, adrenaline making my hands shake.
“Thanks. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered.”
Turning back to Ren, I let my focus on him steady my breathing. I feel pride
watching him, how capably and calmly he handles himself. Always the gentle
smile, always polite to the reporters, who to their credit, are pretty polite to him.
Everybody loves Ren.
It’s only when the cameras are packed away, chairs scraping as reporters
stand, that I process the fact that Ren diffused the hell out of that question.
But he also didn’t answer it.
Our guys are filing out, back toward the bowels of the stadium, where Coach
will finish up post-game talk and send everyone out to celebrate our narrow win.
I scramble as fast as I can, weaving through the sea of reporters.
Once I’m past them, so I don’t draw undue attention, I hiss-whisper Ren’s
name.
He glances over his shoulder and stops, his smile widening as he sees me.
“Francesca.”
“Don’t ‘Francesca’ me.” I poke his stomach and swear under my breath. I
think I just broke my finger on his abs. “You did not handle that properly.”
He tips his head, a frown tightening his features. Ren gently takes me by the
elbow, coaxing me to walk with him. There’s a wall of people waiting behind us,