date you?

Bailey POV

My healing journey was going well until I received an alarming call.

“ Miss Dawson, can you come to the hospital immediately?”

I had been in the middle of arranging my small bakery shop when the call came.

At first, I was confused and then dread followed.

When I arrived at the hospital, my grandmother was already laying in the ICU.

That's when my world started cracking again.

“ Your grandmother’s condition worsened and she needs a heart surgery as soon as possible.”

I trembled and took a step back as I felt like my world was running in circles.

A heart surgery? When I had drained my savings to set up my bakery?

Desperate, I pleaded with the landlady to give back the six months down payment I had made but my efforts were proven futile.

I mortgaged the house my parents left me but it was not enough. That's how I found myself here, in a club serving drinks to earn money.

The bass thumps so hard through the velvet-lined walls I could feel it in my bones. I clutch my tray a little tighter, reminding myself for the hundredth time: This is just temporary. Just until I scrape together enough money for Grandma’s surgery.

The smell of liquor and smoke curl around me as I weave between tables, keeping my head down.

Every step screams humiliation. If Nolan could see me now… No. I shove the thought away. Nolan has already taken enough from me. I can't think about him right now.

My grandmother is very important to me and that's why I took this humiliating job. Anything as long as she can get well.

“Table twelve,” the floor manager hisses, shoving another order slip in my hand.

I grab the drinks, arrange them on the tray and make a beeline to the assigned table.

My heart stutters when I see where table twelve is.

It's a corner booth filled with laughter and testosterone — jerseys and leather jackets everywhere.

Then I see him. At the center, lounging like he owns the damn place… Orion Kane.

Of course. Out of all the gin joints in Michigan, he had to walk into mine. How unlucky can I get?

From Nolan’s everyday tale in the past, Orion is a prick and a bastard who doesn't lose an opportunity to act cocky.

His gaze snaps to me the second I approach. A smirk curls on his lips, slow and sharp.

“Well, well. Look who we have here.

Bailey Dawson. I didn’t think you knew how to hold a tray.” He says, each word laced with mockery.

I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Instead, I square my shoulders and look him in the face.

“Didn’t think you knew how to speak without bragging. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

My retort is followed by a low whistle from one of his teammates. Orion just chuckles, his eyes glittering with something unreadable.

I set the drinks down carefully, but as I turn to leave, a hand reaches out and rough fingers graze my thigh.

“Hey sweetheart, how about you stay and give us a little show, huh?” one of the guys jeers and I fight with everything inside me not to slam the tray on his face.

Disgust stirs inside my stomach and before I know it, I push myself away.

The tray tilts in my hand and the liquid splashes over the edge of a glass.

It spills down his expensive jacket and amber streaks soak the fabric.

The man shoots up, his face twisting with anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice booms, drawing the attention of the onlookers.

“This jacket costs more than your entire paycheck, you stupid…”

“Sit. Down.”

A voice cuts through the rising tension.

It's low, dangerous and laced with authority that silences the table.

In one fluid motion, Orion stands, towering over the guy. His hand clamps down on the man’s shoulder.

“If you so much as look at her again, you’ll be picking your teeth off the floor.”

The threat lingers in the air, I even taste in my lips.

The guy’s bravado from earlier wilts instantly. He mutters something under his breath and drops back into his chair.

Slowly , Orion turns, his eyes locking on mine.

For a split second, I see something different in them. Not arrogance. Not rivalry.

I see possession. Like he damn owns every part of me. I swallow hard, heat forming and spreading across my body.

“She’s with me,” he announces, loud enough for the whole damn lounge to hear. “Nobody is allowed to touch or humiliate her. Only I can do that.”

Heat surges to my cheeks mixed with something else I can't quite pinpoint.

My eyes remain locked on his and for a fleeting moment, we gaze at each other.

I see imaginary sparks flying between us. Eventually, I look away.

I can't help but wonder what the hell he is playing at?

I want to snap at him, to scream that I am not his but the way every pair of eyes in that booth shifts off me, I just stand there, trembling.

Orion leans closer, his smirk returning but it's softer this time.

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite.” Then his gaze flicks to my lips. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

My pulse hammers.

I hate him but a weird sensation erupts from deep insíde me and spreads all over my body.

I glare at him. “ Asshole.” I murmur before walking away.

The rest of the shift runs smoothly. Nobody bothers me and while I don't exactly appreciate how he claimed ownership over me, why does a small, treacherous part of me feel like he is cool?

When my shift is over, I grab my bag and head out. When I step outside the club, the harsh night air slaps my body and I wrap my hands around myself.

I walk towards the bus stop hoping I don't have to wait for long. I don't make it far when a black motorcycle pulls up before me.

The scent of his cologne hits me before he removes the helmet covering his face.

“ Hop on, I'll drive you home.” Orion offers.

“ No need. I can find my way home.” I retort. Just because he helped me earlier doesn't mean I suddenly like him.

“Hop on, Bailey.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “It’s late and I am not letting you ride a bus with creeps after what just happened inside.” Orion presses on.

I cross my arms tighter. “I don’t need saving.”

His mouth curves, equal parts smirk and challenge. “Funny. It looked like you did about an hour ago.”

I glare at him in defiance but when a couple of rowdy men spill out of the club behind us, laughing too loud, my resolve wavers.

It's almost ten and the streets can be unsafe, especially for a woman like me.

With a sharp exhale, I swing a leg over and settle behind him.

The engine roars to life, and the world blurs into shadows and neon lights. My hands grip the edges of his jacket, and even when I try to resist it, the warmth seeping through steadies me.

When he finally slows near my street, he doesn’t kill the engine right away. Instead, his voice cuts through the night.

“So. You and Nolan…?

The sound of that name feels like a slap.

“ It's none of your fucking business.” I snap. Orion’s jaws suddenly tighten.

“Everyone in the hockey world knows he has been screwing around with the daughter of the club patron. He left you for her? What an asshole.” His tone feels heavy, like he is mad about something.

So that's how it is? The connection the dumb blonde was talking about?

My throat works, but no words come out.

Then he turns to me.

“ I know you need money urgently. I have a proposal.

Be my girlfriend and I'll take care of everything you need.”

I laugh bitterly.

“ You really are delusional. You think I would date you? My ex’s rival?”

“Exactly,” he says, lips curving into that infuriating grin.

“ This makes it even more interesting. Don't you want to get back at your cheating ex? What better way than to be with me— the man he hates the most?”