Then there’s the image of Monty in nothing—mouth open, lashes clumped from sweat, the head of his cock wet against his stomach as he begs me without words to keep going.To not stop.To take him all the way until we both forgot who we were supposed to be.His skin warm, breath shaking, hands gripping the sheets like he’s trying not to beg.
Like he’s trying not to love.
He shifts his weight slightly, just enough to remind me he’s human.The movement pulls the jacket tighter across his back, traces the line of his spine, the strength there.I feel it in my gut like a reflex.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t be thinking about this.
Not now.
The rivalry was never just about Vesper.
It was about this—about wanting the same impossible thing and never admitting it out loud.About fighting over her because it was safer than fighting for each other.Because no one would accept what we were if we tried it.Because men like us weren’t supposed to want like this—weren’t supposed to ache for another man and still crave the woman who stood between us like a blessing and a shield.
Monty finally lifts his chin, signaling that he’s ready.Ready to disappear behind the version of himself the world understands.
And I feel it again—that stupid, reckless urge to reach out.To grab his tie, pull him close, press my mouth to his and remind him he doesn’t belong to the cameras.Or the team.Or the lie.
He should belong tous—Ves and me.
“Okay,” the PR woman says, cheerful in a way that makes my teeth ache.“After the GM speaks, we’ll do jersey photos, then we head to the ice for media B-roll and stills.Then questions.Keep answers short and positive.Emphasize teamwork.Respect.New chapter.”
Monty’s eyes shift to me for half a second, asking without words,Can you stay in your lane?
Normally?Sure.Boundaries.Respect.All that good adult behavior.
Right now, he’s standing too close, smelling like clean soap and expensive woodsy cologne and his dark personality.
Honestly, right now I want to burn down every camera in this building and lock the doors somewhere where it’s just the two of us.Maybe drive to the apartment and be with her.
I make my smile arrive on cue.It feels too bright on my face, like I’m putting on a costume in a room full of people who think they own me.
Usually it’s not that hard, but I didn’t sleep.
I kept seeing Vesper’s face in that bathroom light.Kept hearing Dr.Ruiz’s voice sayingpositive, pregnant, supplements...all sorts of things that Ves needed like it was a simple fact and not a total rewrite.I kept thinking about Philippe and the camp and how Vesper will try to carry everything because she was taught that love means you help your family.Also, she learned to please her parents so they would see her just as they saw her brothers.She couldn’t be a hockey star so ...she had to be the best daughter.
And my brain kept building.
Hire a doctor who will be by Vesper’s side twenty-four-seven.Put her somewhere no one can find her.Wrap her life in safety until nothing bad can reach her.
As if I can buy her peace.
As if peace is something I’m allowed to give.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.I don’t check it.I already know what it’ll be—Harvey with updates.He’s probably confirming what I fear: my parents found a way to pressure me.It could be Vesper, or ...I need to shut everything out.
“You good?”Monty asks, voice low, like he’s speaking to a teammate instead of a man he nearly kissed in a car.
Like I didn’t provoke him.
As if I didn’t want him to lose control with me.
I tilt my head.“You asking because you care, or because you don’t want me to say something that gets us fined?”
He looks at me fully this time, eyes flat and cold and too honest.“Yes to both.”
A laugh slips out of me, rough around the edges.“I’m fine.”
