Chapter 19: Spell Breaks

Gianna’s POV

I couldn't move. My eyes stayed locked on his lips, my heart thumping so hard against my ribs I thought it would burst. The space between us felt electric. Ryker’s thumb stayed warm against my lower lip, his fingers holding my chin steady. He leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, his eyes darkening.

Then, a harsh, loud buzz cut through the quiet car.

Ryker’s phone buzzed to life beside the cup holder between us, the vibration rattling the plastic. The bright screen lit up his dashboard, flashing a number with a New York area code.

I pulled my chin out of his grip and pressed myself back against the passenger seat, smoothing down the green silk of my dress. My breathing was ragged.

Ryker cursed loudly, punching his hand against the steering wheel before grabbing the phone. He looked at the screen, his expression turning cold, before swiping the screen.

"Speak," he barked into the receiver.

He listened for a moment, his broad shoulders tensing up again. He didn't look at me, but his eyes were fixed on the dark windshield. "Yeah. I heard Vance. I know what he said... No, it's fine. It won't happen again. Just keep the scouts happy."

It was obviously his agent.

Hearing him talk about the scouts and his career brought me right back to reality. This was a business deal. He was a popular sports star with everything to lose, and I was a runaway trying to stay invisible.

If we crossed that line, everything we built would shatter.

Ryker hung up the phone and tossed it back into the console. He ran a hand through his hair , letting out a heavy breath.

"We need to get back," he muttered.

"Yeah," I whispered, looking out the side window at the dark trees. "We do."

He ignited the car and the car pulled back into the main road. The drive to the penthouse was completely silent, but the air inside the vehicle felt heavy and awkward.

Neither of us said a word as he parked in the underground garage before riding the private elevator up to the top floor.

When the front door of the penthouse clicked shut behind us, locking out the rest of the world outside, I didn't wait.

"Goodnight, Barrett," I said quickly, not looking back as I kicked off my high heels and walked straight down the hallway to my bedroom.

I shut my door and leaned my back against the wood, letting out the breath I had been holding since the past few seconds.

I looked down at my hands, and let out a sad chuckle—they were still shaking.

*******

I didn't sleep well. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Ryker’s thumb on my lip.

The next morning, I walked into the kitchen around eight o'clock. The apartment was quiet, and the sun was coming through the big windows, making long shadows on the floor.

Ryker was standing by the counter. He had his hockey bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his gray team hoodie and black sweatpants.

But he looked tired, his jaw tense as he drank water from a glass.

When he heard my footsteps, he looked up. His gray eyes were filled with something else I couldn’t quite grasp.

It was like the intense, hot look from the truck last night was completely gone. He was back to being the cool sports captain.

"I'm heading to the rink," Ryker said, setting the empty glass down with a soft click. "We have an early practice before the game on Friday."

"Okay," I said, keeping my voice neutral. I walked over to the fridge to get some juice, slightly keeping my distance.

Ryker didn't move toward the door immediately. He stood there for a second, watching me. "About last night in the car—"

"It's fine, Ryker," I interrupted gently, turning to look at him. "The agent called, and it reminded me why we are both doing this in the first place. It was just a stressful night."

Ryker’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Right. It was just the adrenaline from the gala. We stick to the contract, no distractions."

"No distractions," I agreed.

"Good," he said, as he gripped the strap of his gear bag tighter. "I'll be at the rink all day. There are food containers and drinks in the fridge if you're hungry."

He turned and walked out the front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

I let out a slow breath and leaned against the counter. My words felt safe, but my heart didn't believe them.

The boundaries were supposed to keep me safe, but now they suddenly felt harder to keep.