Page 143 of Secrets on Ice

Final score 5–2.

The boys pile onto the ice in a heap of helmets and gloves. Sully finds me in the crowd and winks. Tonight we celebrate everything, the win, the divorce, and the fact that we’re alive and free and standing in the middle of Vegas with the whole night still ahead of us.

Harper takes Bastien back to the penthouse, and Issy goes with her.

“Be safe.” Harper hugs us. “And kiss all the hot men that you can.” She giggles.

The club is loud and dark and exactly what you want it to be. Bass thumps through the floor and the air already smells of perfume, sweat, and expensive tequila. Collette has outdone herself. A velvet rope pulls back, and we're led into a private VIP section above the main floor, all black leather booths and low purple lighting. Our booth stretches along the back wall, offering a clear view of the dance floor.

The bottle girls come in a line, six of them in sequined bodysuits and sky-high heels, each carrying a bottle with a sparkler shooting bright white sparks into the air. The last two hold a huge gold sign between them that reads HAPPILY DIVORCED in glittering letters. The whole club turns to look as they cut through the crowd and stop right in front of our booth. Sparks rain down onto the table while the girls set the bottles in the ice and cheer for us. Cassidy and I scream so loud we nearly lose our voices.

“Who did this?” I ask the table.

“Me,” Collette yells over the music, delighted with herself. “You're welcome.”

The whole crew's here now. Jo and Collette and the social media girls are done with work for the night. The boys are rolling in an hour after us, still riding the high of the win. There are more sparklers and shots, and the club's social media girl is taking photos of us with the boys and our sign.

Collette leans across the booth. “Did you hear Marlowe got married?” she says to Zara and Billie, her social media girls.

“Marlowe's married?” I nearly drop my glass. “When? To whom?”

“Not that Marlowe.” Collette laughs. “The Marlowe that worked with us. She left at the end of the season and disappeared, and the next thing we see on her socials is she's married to some billionaire in the South of France.”

I stare at her. “There are two Marlowes?”

“There's always been two Marlowes, Em.” She's laughing at me now. “Sorry, it was before your time.”

“I had no idea. Every time you said Marlowe, I thought you meant the one I know!”

“Oh, that's so funny.” She laughs as they fall into an animated conversation about the other Marlowe.

It's the best night I've had in longer than I can remember. My face falls a little as I see the puck bunnies have found us again. I shake off the feeling when I see them make a beeline to Sully, it never gets easier. You could go over and stake your claim. Are you insane? I'm happy just having fun right now. Honestly, it's all I have the mental capacity for. Then you're going to have to deal with him flirting with other women. Yeah, that bit sucks.

Somewhere near the DJ booth, a screen lights up with the countdown clock, big glowing numbers ticking down the last stretch to midnight, and the whole club starts to buzz with that giddy, almost-there energy. Fifteen minutes to the new year. The girls are shrieking about who's kissing who at midnight, and I'm laughing along. Across the floor, I catch Sully looking at me over the head of some puck bunny, but I can’t focus on him because the room suddenly spins. Maybe I had a lot more to drink than I thought I did. Someone has been pouring our drinks all night, so I haven't been keeping count. The lights start to smear at the edges, trailing when I turn my head. The music stops being music and turns into just noise, thumping at me from somewhere too far away to matter. I blink and the booth tilts. I think I need to freshen up, wake myself up. I'm so hot and heavy that my legs feel like they belong to someone else, and someone else is doing a bad job of working them. There's a small, clear part right at the back of my head that knows this isn't right. It’s starting to scream about it, but the rest of me can't reach her. I need to sit down before I end up on the floor. I turn to find a seat, but the whole room spins with me, too fast, everything sliding sideways, and there's a hand at my elbow.

I need help.

I reach out and grab hold of something, and it steadies me. It starts to move me, walking me somewhere, and I let it because I can't make my body do anything else, but my mind is screaming that this is wrong, that this isn't Cassidy, that I don't know whose hand this is. I try to say no and pull myself from their grasp, but nothing comes out of my mouth.

What's going on?

I'm so confused and disorientated.

40

SULLY

Eleven minutes to midnight, and all I can think about is kissing her. It's a stupid, reckless thing to want in a room full of people who can't know, but I can't help it. The countdown clock's up on the big screen behind the DJ, and the whole club is buzzing with anticipation. Somewhere in the last hour I decided that when it hits zero, I'm going to find Ember in the crowd and kiss her, secret or not, and I'll figure out an excuse later. New Year's kiss. Everyone kisses someone at midnight. It's practically tradition. Nobody would think twice.

So, I've been keeping her in the corner of my eye the whole time, even though this puck bunny is annoying the hell out of me. I’ve been tracking her through the crowd, her gold dress moving through the dark, waiting for my moment. Which is the only reason I notice when something's wrong.

One second, she's near the booth, and the next she's not where she should be. I get pulled sideways into a photo with some guys who recognizes us from the game, and it takes me thirty seconds too long to get free of them, and when I look back, she’s gone.

I don't think anything of it at first. It's a big club, she's with the girls. They wouldn't let anything happen to her, plus, she's a grown woman. But a feeling I can't explain tells me to go find her, and I find myself scanning the floor for her.

“You seen Ember?” I ask Cassidy.

“Toilets, I think.” She frowns. “Why?”