If she really ended up at that club because she’d seen Valencia at my house and jumped to the worst conclusion, that means she felt that jealousy too.
The thought tastes like victory and poison all at once.
“What the hell happened?” Addams asks, wiping his mouth.
What the hell happened? A bratty little blonde ignoring me all day, then entertaining another man at the bar happened. I’m pretty sure my slight crash out was valid.
“I just took her home.” I set my glass down with a thud. “Don’t know why it’s such a big deal.”
“Because it is.” Matt blows out a breath. “I didn’t believe Clarissa when she said it. Thought she was being dramatic. Then I opened TikTok this morning.”
“You’re everywhere,” Tanner says around his mouthful. “And the comments are wild.”
My thoughts keep circling back to last night, to the way Jessica tore into me—furious, drunk, beautiful. But I also remember everything I didn’t say. I didn’t lie to her. I didn’t touch Valencia. We’re not close, not even friends. She’s just a business contact I keep in case.
But Jessica saw a woman leaving my house and filled in the blanks with the story that hurt most.
I get it.
It looked fucking bad.
But I couldn’t tell her why Valencia was actually there. If I do, the whole surprise goes to shit.
And honestly? I don’t want her knowing I’m behind what I have planned for her. The impact, the moment—that’s supposed to be hers—would disappear.
So I stood there that night taking her anger like a punching bag.
“You good?” Jace nudges my elbow.
“We’ll talk later,” I grunt. He gives me one of his looks.
She’s been avoiding and dodging me like I burned her. She was at the game last night with Melody and the WAGs. I used every opportunity to look at her and would always find her already looking at me. But after the win, she didn’t come down like before. Didn’t wait for me, didn’t hug me for the cameras. She posted the usual stories—clips, shots of the ice, the “Go Blazers” crap PR makes her do—but she didn’t say a damn word to me.
By the time I get home, she’s already in her pajamas, if you can call tiny sleeping shorts and a tank top pajamas. She brushes past me with a glass of water without meeting my eyes. “Congratulations,” is all I get.
She hasn’t said more than two words to me since. I don’t know if it’s because she still doesn’t believe me or because she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Pulling away after that damn kiss to make me crave it again? It’s working so fucking well it’s pathetic.
Her silence is torture. And if she’s doing this on purpose, trying to get under my skin, then congratulations. She’s already buried deep.
Every time I close my eyes, I’m back with her mouth parting under mine and her body arching like she wanted me to take her apart.
I’m halfway lost in my own shit until Addams talks about where we’re going after we win the Cup. Team tradition. That yanks me back to the table.
“We doing it again this year?” Dan, our equipment manager, asks.
“Hell yeah,” Tanner perks up immediately.
“Just to remind you,” Jace chimes in, “I’m renovating the beach house, so this year… someone else’s place.”
All at once, every head turns to me. Seven men staring like dogs waiting for someone to drop steak scraps.
“Dom’s it is.” Jace lifts his drink.
I take a slow drink and pretend to think about it. I’d agree in a heartbeat if it weren’t for Jessica. The idea of leaving her alone in Miami after the club shit? Absolutely the fuck not.
Jace elbows me. “Hello?”
