I don’t know what to do with it—this nearness, this man who some nights fell asleep next to me when we were sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen during summers.Nights where we pretended to soothe the other because life was fucking rough or we were hurting from training.We pretended it was nothing but now ...I realize it was everything and ignoring it was what broke me.
I should move.But I don’t.
The engine hums.The city outside becomes a blur of light and movement, all of it too far away to matter.
Next to me, Monty exhales—slow, even.A sound meant to ground us.Me, maybe.
And I feel it again.
That low, dangerous hum under my ribs.The one that says I’m not over him.That I still want him to lean closer and ask me what’s wrong.That I want his fingers at the inside of my wrist, or at my jaw, tilting me toward something we never finished.
But I also want to be okay.
I want to believe this season won’t end with one—or both—of us destroyed.
And I don’t know how to want both of them.
For now, I have to concentrate on getting Vesper out of my parents’ radar.That should be our main priority.Then, figure out her current status.We need to discuss the baby.Not sure what she’s planning but I will support her one hundred percent.I know Monty will too.
That reminds me that we have to move her out of that apartment soon.“How’s the hunt for a house going?”
“There are a few properties available.One of them fits your specifications,” Harvey keeps going.“It might need repairs.”
“I don’t care about the price,” I say.“I care about speed.I care about getting her behind a door nobody can find.”
Monty goes still beside me at the wordher.
“Working on it,” Harvey replies.
“Do you have a plan?”
“I’m building one with the team I hired,” he says.“This time I can’t do it alone because I’m also helping with the camp.The people I’m working with came highly recommended.We’re talking high-tech security.They also referred me to a concierge service if we need to furnish the new house fast.”
“They know we’re buying?”I ask.
“Yes,” Harvey answers.“They’re also the ones checking the properties.They have to confirm they’re secure.You’ll be assigned a bodyguard by the end of the day.”
I let out a laugh that isn’t a laugh.It’s a broken sound.“You know hockey players don’t usually need bodyguards.”
Harvey scoffs.“You’re not a normal hockey player.Never have been, never will be.”
Monty’s gaze cuts to me, sharp and assessing.His hand rests on his thigh, fingers flexing once like he’s ready to do something stupid and righteous.
“Your family has money.Power.They play dirty.Your siblings are socialites who appear in newspapers and social feeds all the time.”He pauses, like he’s choosing his next line carefully.“They think it’s time for you to come home,” Harvey says.“Which means they’ll use any means necessary to lure you back—even if it hurts your career or the people you love.”
The words slam into me.Not like a slow realization.Like a hit.
“You need to make sure they protect her,” I say as my stomach rolls.
My hands start shaking again, and I hate that my body is betraying me in such a human way.
Beside me, Monty’s posture changes—subtle, but I notice everything.His shoulders square.His attention fixes.He’s turning into a predator, because that’s what he does when someone threatens his people, even if he’d never call it that.
I swallow hard, and it tastes like fear and fury.
“I’m not letting them touch her,” I say, voice low and raw.“Keep her safe.Even if we have to disappear her.”
Monty makes a sound under his breath, something approving and dangerous, like he’s already imagining the route.
