The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

16. Gemma

Chapter 16

Gemma

T he small ice cream shop near the arena was one of those places that seemed frozen in time. The walls were painted a cheery pastel yellow, dotted with old-school posters advertising sundaes and milkshakes, and the faint scent of vanilla and freshly made waffle cones hung in the air. It wasn’t busy—mid-afternoon on a weekday wasn’t prime ice cream time—but a couple of teenagers hovered by the counter, giggling over their sundaes.

Casey was already there when I walked in, seated at one of the little booths by the window. He looked slightly out of place in his Fire jacket and baseball cap, his broad frame filling the small space. But even from across the room, he still managed to take my breath away. It was as if seeing him made the world disappear.

When did I become such a sap?

I didn’t really care. I was so happy when it came to Casey that it made most of those judgy inner voices shut up. As it turned out, being deeply in like worked like a mute button for all that noise.

Deeply in like? Really? You can do better than that .

So, maybe it didn’t shut all the judgy voices up, but it helped. And I did like Casey, but I knew it was bigger than that. I wasn’t ready to touch that other l-word just yet. But it was coming.

I smiled as I approached, hoping to shake off the strange knot of nerves that had been following me all day. This was supposed to be a fun, casual date—just a quick break for him before he had to get back to work. That was why he picked this place. It was a few blocks from the arena. But as I slid into the seat across from him, I immediately sensed something was off.

“Hey,” I said, setting my purse on the bench beside me. “How’s your day going?”

“Busy,” he said, his tone clipped. He didn’t look at me right away, instead focusing on the menu in front of him like it was fascinating.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, finally glancing up. His smile was small, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a lot on my mind.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to read the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were stiff, and he twisted his father’s ring on his thumb. This wasn’t like him—not with me, anyway. Casey was usually a rock in the whirlwind that was my life.

“Are you sure?” I asked, leaning forward slightly. “Because you’re acting…weird.”

He sighed, setting the menu down and rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I am being weird.”

“Want to tell me why?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening like he was trying to hold something back. But then his eyes met mine, and I saw the conflict there, the storm of something dark he was trying to keep under control.

“Five years ago,” he said slowly, “you were at the Fire’s masquerade fundraiser, right?”

My stomach dropped.

For a split second, I thought about lying, about denying I’d been there and playing dumb. But I knew that wouldn’t work. Casey wasn’t stupid, and the look on his face told me he’d already connected the dots. Besides, all he had to do was ask Nico to check me. He had a source, so lying would be pointless. And I didn’t want to lie to Casey any more than I already had.

“I was there,” I said carefully, my voice steadier than I felt. “Why?”

“Your daughter is almost five,” he said, his tone soft but pointed. “That means she would’ve been conceived right around then.”

My heart started pounding in my chest, the blood rushing in my ears. I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, to pretend I didn’t understand where this was going.

“And I’ve raised her on my own. I don’t need you to recap my personal history to me, so what’s your point?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.

Casey’s eyes didn’t waver, his gaze locked on mine. “Did you hook up at the masquerade?”

I froze, my body going rigid as his words sank in. For a moment, all I could do was stare at him, my mind racing with a thousand different responses. I could lie, I could deflect, I could tell him the truth…but none of those options felt safe.

“That’s none of your business,” I said finally, my voice sharp. “And I’m offended that you’d even ask.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he leaned back in his seat, clearly startled by my tone. “Gemma, I’m not trying to judge you. I just?—”

“No,” I interrupted. “What I did or did not do that night is not on the table. If you want to continue this date, fine. But I will not be interrogated or judged by you or anyone else.”

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just…” He trailed off, his voice faltering.

“You just what?” I asked, my heart still racing.

“I hooked up with someone that night,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Not because I regret it, but because until I met you, she had been my gold standard for sex.”

Even now, with so much on the line, I couldn’t help but be flattered by that. “Oh.”

“That hook-up was amazing. My first and only one-night stand. Pretty much figured no one else could measure up to a memory, so why try to relive that high, you know?”

I swallowed. “I think I get it.”

He blew out a breath, the lines near his eyes softening. “And I don’t know…I got it in my head that if you were there…I thought Winnie might be mine.”

It felt like the ground had shifted beneath me, like the entire world had tilted on its axis. My chest tightened, and it took everything I had to keep my face neutral, to keep my voice steady.

“I thought we were leaving our pasts in the past. The fact that you’re older than me means you have a lot more experience than I do, and I don’t judge you for that. I don’t think you should judge me for my past, either.”

“This isn’t about judgment, Gem.”

“Well, I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having right now.”

“Why not?” he asked, his eyes searching mine. “If there’s even a chance?—”

“There’s not,” I said quickly, cutting him off again. “I’m not doing this, Casey. Not here, not now.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a hand, silencing him. “I’m serious. If you want to keep seeing me, then drop it. Right now.”

Frustration stiffened him right back up. He glanced out the large window, and if I had to hazard a guess, I would have said he was debating on a response. I hoped he chose wisely.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me. “Apology accepted. Now, can we just…enjoy our ice cream?”

He managed a small smile, but I saw through it. I’d screwed up and hurt his feelings by shutting him out, and that stung us both. But he said, “Yeah. Ice cream sounds good.”

The shop was a counter service kind of place, so we made our selections—his pistachio waffle cone and my dulce de leche milkshake—and sat back down. Awkward wasn’t a heavy enough word for what happened until our food arrived.

We were silent. Not the comfortable silences we’d had before. This one was peppered with unasked questions and regret.

When the food came, we both dove in, thankful for something to do with our mouths that wasn’t talking. I could tell Casey wanted to bring it up again, but he didn’t, and for that, I was grateful.

But internally, I was falling apart.

He knew. Or at least, he suspected. And I couldn’t hide it much longer. When we were parting ways outside the shop, he tipped his head to the side, his brow lined from deep thought. “You didn’t ask why I thought it might have been you.”

I swallowed. “You said you were at the same masquerade as me.”

“Right, but why wouldn’t I know the face of the woman I slept with?”

“I thought we were done talking about this, Casey.”

“I’m not asking about that night. I’m asking why you didn’t ask how it is. I wouldn’t have known who I slept with.”

I shrugged. “It was a masquerade. We were all wearing masks. I assumed people who hooked up that night kept their masks on for the sex.”

“Hmm,” he said stiffly. “I guess that’s where you and I differ. That kind of thing wouldn’t have occurred to me. If I’d been on the receiving end of those kinds of questions, the first thing I would have asked is how it is you don’t know who you slept with. Strange that you knew we kept our masks on.”

My heart leaped into my mouth. “Isn’t that the point of hooking up at a masquerade? The spicy anonymity?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“You obviously don’t read enough romance novels, Casey. It’s a thing. I’ll send you some links to the ones I like.”

Just like that, with one lie, his worry lines melted away. “That’s really a thing in those books?”

I nodded, relieved he bought it. “You’ll see.” We said our goodbyes, and that was that, but nothing felt resolved because it wasn’t.

Later that night, after Winnie was asleep and the house was quiet, I sat on the couch with my head in my hands, replaying the conversation over and over in my mind. I had done hours’ worth of research for romance novels that had that plot in them and sent him the links. Thankfully, social media made it easier than reading the books myself.

That had been a welcome distraction from my guilt.

I’d always known this moment would come. From the second I figured it out, I knew it was only a matter of time before he put the pieces together. But I’d convinced myself I could handle it, that I could keep the truth buried until I was ready to deal with it.

I had lied to him and to myself.

Because the truth was, I didn’t know if I could deal with it. I didn’t know if I was ready to face what it would mean for Casey to find out he was Winnie’s father.

Would he be angry? Hurt? Would he want to be involved in her life? Would he want to be part of mine? And what if he didn’t?

The thought made my chest ache, and I let out a shaky breath, trying to push it away. I couldn’t afford to think like that. Not now.

But as much as I tried to push it aside, the truth loomed over me. I couldn’t hide it much longer.