Maybe four.
Then I set the phone facedown on my knee and stared at the carpet like it had personally offended me.
Finally Kane said, “You’re smiling like a maniac.”
I hadn’t realized I was.
I dragged a hand over my mouth, but it didn’t help.
“Piss off.”
He laughed.
“Impossible. Your vibe is too loud. Don’t fuck it up with her again, Vale.”
I barely slept.
Not because I was nervous.
Because every time I closed my eyes, I saw some version of Stella.
At the service line.
At the wall in the gym.
Wearing my hoodie.
In my room...
Telling me to get back to her like she had any idea what that did to a man trying to function on four hours of sleep and pure want.
By morning, my blood felt carbonated.
The city outside the hotel windows was gray and cool. The bus ride to the arena smelled like coffee, leather seats, and guys pretending to be calmer than they were.
Coach ran through the game plan up front.
I listened.
I really did.
I also checked my phone twice for no reason.
No new text from Stella.
Which was probably good.
Necessary, even.
Because if she’d sent me one more line with that tone in it, I might’ve walked into the arena already halfway feral.
Kane slid into the seat beside me and bumped his shoulder into mine.
“You look weirdly locked in.”
“I am locked in.”
He studied me for a second.
