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Her dress came off. My shirt came off. I rolled us over so she lay under me and I held myself up, looking at her from her face down to her legs. I imagined this when she first came along and it took some time to throw this picture out of my head.

But she looks different now, two years later. Older. Her hair is lighter, she has a few more freckles and beauty spots. She paints her nails now, puts on more makeup now. She... has a fucking tattoo here?

"When'd you get that?" I mumbled, my thumb brushing over her hip bone at the two hearts, made to look like cherries, inked in red. They were tiny, right with the sharp bone of her hip, under the thin waistband of her underwear.

"When I graduated," she exhaled.

"And the butterfly?" I questioned. I knew about the butterfly one. I saw it one day when she had her back turned to me with her hair thrown up. A red butterfly on the back of her neck.

She bit back a smile. "When I completed my first year working with you." She looked over at my left bicep. "What about your butterfly?"

"On my mom's birthday," I replied.

"And the dagger?" She ran a nail over the small tattoo on my side. I sucked in a breath, staring at her. She bit down a smile, knowing what she was doing.

"When I got on the team," I breathed out.

"And the compass?"

I blinked in surprise. "You've seen that?" It's on my back, so not many people know about it.

She nodded.

I paused. "When I graduated, knowing I made the right choice playing hockey."

She hesitated, glancing from my chest, up to me. "And the scar?" she whispered.

I chuckled softly, knowing if I recalled that poisonous memory, I would ruin everything that's happening here right now. "No sob stories. This isn't a romance," I replied, leaning down and kissing her before she asked more questions. I unhooked her bra as she arched off the bed.

"Are you going to fire me?" she mumbled against my lips.

"Not unless I have to," I answered into the kiss.

It wouldn't be fair to fire her. She's doing this just as much as I am, we're both breaking the rules. I'll be in articles for some time and she'll lose her whole job. It's not fair. But life's not fair. It never has been, never will be.

"So, you might?"

I pulled away, looking at her and nodding hesitantly. "I might."

She scoffed. "Dick."

I smiled, leaning back down and kissing her. We're in too deep. It's too late, we've already broken the contract, might as well go all the way. Plus, neither of us seems to want to stop now. This feels too good to give up.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Vince!"

I groaned, shifting.

"Vince, open the damn door!"

I cursed under my breath, opening my eyes. I blinked in confusion, realizing I was only in my briefs.

Why was I mostly naked?

"Vince!"

I think that's Christian.

"Vince!"

And Michael.

I held my head, feeling it pound. I huffed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from my bag and pulling them on before walking to the door, rubbing my eyes. I answered it and let them in, walking back to the bed blindly and falling face-first onto the bed.

"Wake the fuck up!" they yelled in sync.

I rolled onto my back. "What the hell is it?"

Christian grabbed my arm, pulling me up in a sitting position. He shook me lightly and then hit the back of my head.

"Ah." I rubbed it slowly.

"What did you do?" Michael asked angrily.

"Huh?"

"What the hell did you do?!"

I stared blankly at the two. "What did I do?"

Christian pushed me back on the bed. "He's hopeless. Absolutely hopeless."

Michael pulled me back up and grabbed his phone, unlocking it and shoving it in my face.

I clicked my tongue, taking it out of his hands, and blinked to get a clear look at the screen.

Ice hockey star Vince Hunter crosses all lines and sleeps with his assistant!

My eyes widened as I scrolled down, reading the article. "What the hell are they talking about?"

Christian scoffed, snatching the phone from me and reading the article out loud. "'City Scoop can confirm and say that the star left-winger of Royal Riders, Vince Hunter, has crossed all limits and gone off the rails, as he sleeps with his assistant. It is reported that Hunter was seen drinking in New York at Hotel Crescent and seen leaving with his assistant.

"'A member of staff working at the hotel that night confirmed seeing the two enter a bedroom together. Another member of staff revealed they witnessed his assistant, Demi Tiffany Vaughn, leaving his bedroom early this morning looking rather disheveled. She...'" he paused, letting out an exasperated sigh, tossing the phone to Michael.

"You're fucking kidding, right?" Michael asked.

I stared at him blankly while Christian walked to the curtains, pulling them open.

"Right?!" Michael yelled in frustration.

"Good morning, New York! Meet your biggest manwhore of the night! Vince Hunter!" He turned back around, coming and sitting beside me. "Tell me it's fake news."

Michael sat on my left, both of them interrogating me. "Tell us you didn't sleep with her," Michael sighed pleadingly.

"Tell us you didn't just fuck everything up and ruin it!" Christian stood up.

"Tell us you didn't fuck the best assistant you've ever had!" Michael shot up, both of them glaring at me.

I took in a breath, dragging a hand down my face, trying to think and recall last night. Her stupid cherry tattoo flashed in my head. I looked at them through my fingers. "I did," came my muffled reply from behind my hands.

Christian grabbed a pillow, trying to suffocate me with it while Michael used another to hit me repeatedly.

I grabbed both pillows, throwing them behind me and running out the door, knocking on Demi's door. Banging on it, actually. The door opened a couple of seconds later and she stared at me, eyes wide, frozen. "We didn't..." I mumbled.

"We did," she answered regretfully.

I pushed past her, slamming the door shut behind me and she took several startled steps back, hitting the coffee table. "How could you let this happen, Demi?!" I corner her.

"Me? What about you?! I was just as drunk as you were, it's not just my fault! And you kissed me first!"

"You kissed me second, it makes no difference, Demi! You were supposed to stay sober!"

"I was tired of following your stupid rules and wanted to catch a break! Sorry, I didn't plan ahead of time. Sorry I didn't slap you across the face when you kissed me and said 'Who's going to tell on us?' Well, guess what, hotel staff will, Vince!"

"You should have stopped me!"

"I did!"

I shot her a pointed look. "Did you? Did you really?" I put my hands on the table and she moved back, sitting on it.

She fell quiet. "No," she mumbled. "But I didn't fucking want to!"

"What the fuck do you mean?!"

"I mean you're the star, aren't you? Vince bloody Hunter! Who says no when you kiss them?"

"Demi!"

"No. Not Demi! You flirted with me! You kissed me! I reminded you, I reminded you so many times. 'Vince, this is a bad idea' 'Vince, we shouldn't do this, we're making a mistake' 'Vince, we should stop' but you didn't listen!"

"You could have slapped me and left! I was drunk, Demi!"

"Yeah? Well, so was I!" She jumped off the table and I took several steps back. "So was I, Vince! I was trying to do the right thing but I can't be the perfect fucking assistant all the time!"

"You had one job last night!"

"Oh, give me a break," she laughed, turning and walking to the huge glass window that overlooked New York. She folded her arms across her chest, turning back to me. "You can make mistakes but I can't? You're allowed to flirt with me and kiss me and want to fuck me but if I do it, it's suddenly my fault?! Huh?!" She gave me a push. "When you do it, it's flirting! When I do it, it's breaking the contract? It's irresponsibility? This is not just my fault and you better fucking own that! If I can admit it, then so can you because I'm about to lose everything for you!"

I stared at her, letting out a sigh and pulling a chair at that coffee table, sitting down. She let out a loud sigh before sitting on the bed. It's my luck. It's just my fucking luck, isn't it?

The last assistant I had, leaked personal information to the press for money. This assistant I have, this great assistant I have, I have to fire because hotel staff leaked personal information to the press for money. Of course, that's what happened, I know it just by hearing and reading about it. City Scoop. I'm going to shut that fucking magazine down. They pay, get their gossip, and throw their sources under the bus. Last time, they threw my ex-assistant's name into the press so people knew she was the one telling them. This time, they mentioned the name of the staff members at the end of the article.

It's my luck and it's fucking City Scoop that ruins my life, time and time again! I watched as she threw her bag on the bed and started packing. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked, standing up.

"Packing."

"Why are you packing right now, Demi?!"

"Because I know what's about to happen, Vince!" She turned to me, throwing her jacket to the floor. "You're about to fire me. I asked you last night. If you don't remember it, think! I asked you if you'd fire me. And what did you say? 'Not unless I have to.' Well... now you have to. So, do it. Say the words and I'm gone. Then you can get back to redeeming your reputation while I go home to Boston and find a cheaper apartment!"

"Why are you talking about finding cheaper apartments?!"

She laughed dryly, marching up to me. "Do you really think your team pays me enough? They don't even pay James enough! If I quit working, I have no way of paying my rent, Vince! So, let's cut the bullshit, please, I'm begging you," she laughed hysterically. "Fire me and let's get this going. We already know what's going to happen, don't we? Just—"

"I'm not going to fire you."

She stopped, staring at me. "What?" she asked softly.

"I'm not. I meant what I said. Not unless I have to. Let me..." I ran a hand through my hair, heaving a breath. "Let me see what I can do. Let's calm down. Let's... let's get back to Boston, speak to James, and just see what we can do. I don't want to fire you. You know that, you have to know that, come on."

She swallowed, blinking away from me and going to sit back down on the bed, catching her breath. She looked like she'd cry.

"Demi."

"Just get out. For now. With all due respect, get out. I need a minute."

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