Page 133 of Nick: The Billionaire Star of NHL

“I was actually thinking of offering her a place in my building,” he says, wiggling his eyebrow. “You know… easier access.”

We all burst out laughing. Thalia smacks his arm, pretending to be offended but smiling too wide to be convincing.

“Hmm, yeah, I think I’d rather have you miss me a little,” she counters with a mischievous grin. “I’m staying here.”

“God, this is perfect,” I say, stretching over the table to pull her into a side hug, knocking half the rummy tiles in the process. “Thank you, Thalia.”

Nick pushes himself up from the couch. “Anyone want snacks? Chips? Chocolate? Ice cream?”

“Beer,” Theo replies immediately.

“Chocolate,” Thalia echoes, half-stretching, like a feline.

“Chips,” I say.

Nick raises an eyebrow as he walks to the kitchen.

“Jesus. If I didn’t get up, you guys would’ve just stared at the food like cats.”

He opens the fridge just as the front gate buzzer rings again—sharp and sudden.

We all freeze for a second.

“If it’s the press…” Nick starts, then stops himself with a sigh. “Yeah,” he gives the voice command, and the system responds immediately.

“You’ve got three seconds to open this damn gate.” Zayn’s irritated voice cuts through the speaker. “You triggered the emergency lockdown, and now we can’t get in—even with the code and my fingerprints.”

“Zayn…” I start, but Nick overrides me and cuts the audio with a quick tap. The gate unlocks with a metallic hum.

Seconds later, we hear the second alert—the elevator access confirmation. Nick accepts it too, without a word.

We all remain quiet.

Thalia’s still curled up next to Theo, her head resting on his shoulder, but I can feel a shift in her body language. A tiny tension in her spine. A pause in her breath. Like she’s bracing for something.

Nick returns with the snacks and stands behind the couch, directly behind me, one hand resting protectively on my shoulder—steady, warm, grounding.

Two beats pass. Then we hear the ding of the elevator.