I stayed there, curled up in the corner of the shower, until the water turned cold again. Then I dragged myself out, wrapping a towel around my shivering body. I stumbled back to the bed, collapsing onto the mattress, too tired to do anything but lie there and stare at the ceiling.
Sleep eluded me, but I didn’t fight it. I let my mind drift, let the memories and fantasies take over. Roan, Jay, Rhett—their faces, their scents, their touches. It was a dangerous game, letting myself go there, but I was past caring. I was past everything but the need.
I reached for the bottle of water, taking a long drink, trying to ground myself. But there was no grounding when my body was on fire, when every thought was consumed by the approaching storm. I closed my eyes, letting the darkness take me, hoping that this time, sleep would bring some relief. But even as I drifted off, I knew it was just a temporary escape. The heat was coming, and there was no running from it now.
Chapter
Nine
RHETT
Iwasn’t gonna sit around and do another lap on the ice like it would fix anything.
Roan could bark orders all he wanted—“keep your head in the game, Navarro”—but that ship sailed the second I realized she wasn’t justoff the clock.
Wren wasgone.
Not answering her phone, her private line, her backup number. No location pinned on her work calendar. No car in the arena garage. No familiar scent lingering near the media rooms or tunnels or even the stupid vending machines she hit when she forgot to eat.
She hadn’t just left for the day.
She’dleft.Period.
Twenty-four hours later and no one seemed to know where the hell she went.
Except maybe…
I took the stairs two at a time, not even trying to hide the fact that I was headed to her office. If security wanted to stop me, they could try. I had a key. Technically. Sort of. Maybe it wasn’tmine, but I’d borrowed it once during that preseason charity shoot, and Wren had never asked for it back.
So that was her fault. Kind of.
I reached the top of the stairs, heart pounding hard enough to feel it in my throat—and froze.
Her office door was already open.
Light on.
Someone inside.
I stepped in fast, ready to throw down if it was Beckett or Marchand or some dumb rookie with a death wish—and found Jay.
Sitting calmly in her chair, desktop computer on, his fingers moving with surgical precision across the keys. His black hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows, expression unreadable, mouth a thin, focused line.
“What the hell,” I blurted. “You hacked her computer?”
Jay didn’t flinch. “Didn’t need to. Her access card was still in the drawer. Backup one, the spare she keeps in case her main gets demagnetized.”
He didn’t even glance at me. Just kept scanning.
I stepped farther into the room, shutting the door behind me. “And what—you're just going through her stuff?”
He finally looked up then, brows lifted likereally, Rhett?
“She’s gone.” His voice was low, clipped. “Why are you acting like you didn’t come here to do the exact same thing?”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
