The whimper that claws out of my throat is embarrassing—high, desperate.
From across the room, Cole’s sunglasses tilt as his jaw drops. “Ohshit.”
Damian doesn’t even glance at him. His eyes stay locked on mine, burning steady as his thumb drags slow against my jaw.
“Tell me a number, baby,” he murmurs.
My whole body jerks. My stomach flips. My lips twitch open but no sound comes out except a wrecked little whine.
Because I know what he means.
I know exactly what he means.
And I don’t know if I’m more scared of saying it out loud—or not saying it at all.
My throat works once. Twice. My lips twitch. And before I can even stop myself—before my brain catches up with my mouth—I blurt:
“Five!”
The room inhales like one animal, then detonates.
Cole falls off the bench so hard his helmet crashes to the floor, screeching laughter ripping out of him like a hyena.
Damian doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t even blink.
He just stares down at me, scar tugging faint as his thumb strokes along my jaw. Calm. Collected. Like I didn’t just shout the numberfivein front of my entire goddamn team.
“My good boy,” he says low, steady.
I choke. Literally choke on my own breath. My face goes scarlet, my knees wobble like I might actually collapse in the middle of the locker room.
Cole wheezes so loud he’s half on the floor, clutching his stomach. “FIVE?!CURLS IS OUT HERE NEGOTIATING HIS OWN FUNERAL!”
“Jesus Christ,” Mats mutters into his towel, shaking his head with a grin.
Tyler’s still shrieking. “He just—he said—FIVE?! Hesaid itout loud!”
Shane: “Lord, forgive me, I’m about to lose my shit.”
And Damian?
He leans closer. Tilts his head. Lets his lips brush just over my ear so only I hear it through the chaos.
“Five it is.”
My whole body seizes. My lungs skip. My legs nearly give out.
And I realize I’ve just doomed myself.
The moment we clear the arena doors, Elias is vibrating. Jacket half hanging off his shoulders, cheeks still red as sin. The rookies are howling behind us—Cole screeching “FIVE!” like it’s the only word he knows, Mats snorting every time Elias flinches, Tyler shrieking he’s too young for this.
I don’t give them a look. I just steer Elias through the crowd, one hand heavy at the back of his neck until the SUV’s unlocked and waiting.
He scrambles into the passenger seat, fumbling with the jacket, muttering “oh my god” under his breath like he’s praying for a meteor.
I slide behind the wheel. Engine roars. Doors shut. Silence swallows us whole.
He doesn’t even make it to the first stoplight before I reach across the console.
