Chapter 21
Twenty-One
GIA
The morning starts like any other—too damn hot and too damn bright.
The Nevada sun's already burning through my tinted windows before I even get to campus. I throw on my biggest sunglasses, swipe on lip gloss, and tell myself that today, I'm not thinking about hockey players, especially Bass Morelli.
And I almost make it.
Almost.
Until I see Bass on campus.
He's standing by one of the benches outside Sol Pueblo, all tall and badass and so sure of himself, like God personally handcrafted him and then dropped him into VCU to ruin women's GPAs.
There's a coffee bag in his hand and a drink carrier in the other, and for a split second, I think—no, I hope—he's waiting for me. Maybe to apologize. I mean, I’ve given him my body more than once, and he talks to me sometimes like I’m Ice House furniture.
I know I’m the one who put the “just having fun” tag on what we’re doing, but I'm just giving him the space he needs to finally realize that we make the perfect couple.
But then that girl walks up.
Kai Vega.
Of course, it's her. Lately, it’s always her.
Miss Perfect Skin. Miss, I’m Smarter Than You Dumb Hockey Bitches. Miss I'm-Not-Like-Other-Girls.
I stop in my tracks, tucked halfway behind a palm tree, watching them. I kind of hate myself for doing it, so I tell myself it's just curiosity. But the truth is—I can't look away.
What is his fascination with this bitch? She's wearing those ugly ass high-waisted trousers she's so fond of, and he's looking at her like she hung the damn moon.
He hands her a drink—matcha, I think—and a breakfast sandwich.
He’s never gone to the store and gotten me a goddamn thing.
I try to read Bass’s lips and quickly realize that reading lips isn’t one of my superpowers, but body language…that I know. And the way he leans into her when he approaches makes my stomach turn.
He hands her the drink, the food, and says something in her ear that makes her laugh, light and easy, and something inside me twists. Sharp and ugly. The way he leans in to her is too close, too familiar. And then it happens.
He kisses her.
Soft. Quick. Hidden in plain sight.
But I see it.
Oh, I definitely see that shit.
And that’s not the kind of kiss that he’s ever given me. It's the kind that means something. The kind that says mine. The kind that I hoped would one day belong to me if I were patient enough.
For a few seconds, the air goes still. I can't hear the campus noise. Can't feel the sun burning my shoulders through my crop top. Just a sharp pain in my chest that I refuse to name as heartbreak because that would mean I actually cared about that asshole.
And I don't care.
I don't.
Kai walks away, clutching her breakfast like he just gave her a diamond ring or some shit. And then he watches her until she disappears into the building, smiling to himself like some lovesick idiot who just got ass for the first time.
It makes me sick. Makes me want to scream. Makes me want to march over there and remind him of every late night he spent in my bed, every time he called me when he needed something, every goddamn meal I made him and his greedy teammates because they asked me to.
But instead, my body moves before my brain catches up.
"Wow," I say, crossing the courtyard with my hips swinging just the way he used to like. "Just wow."
Bass spins around, and the second he sees me, that cocky grin of his falters. Good. Let him be uncomfortable.
"Gia."
I fold my arms, shifting my weight onto one hip. "So that's how it is now?"
He slides his sunglasses up onto his head, eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, please. Don't play dumb with me, Bass. We both know you're smarter than you pretend to be." I gesture toward where Kai disappeared. “The girl you’re supposed to be collaborating with? You kissed her. Right here. In front of God and everybody."
His jaw tightens, and I watch the muscles work beneath his skin. “You spying on me now, Gia?”
“How is walking across my campus spying on you when you’ve suddenly decided to kiss your project partner for the world to see?”
“You don't know what you saw."
"I know exactly what I saw." I laugh, but it comes out bitter and sharp. “I just can’t believe it. I thought you didn’t do serious?”
"Don't start," he warns, voice dropping to that dangerous register.
"Start what? Telling the truth?" I take a step closer, close enough that my perfume mixes with his cologne.
Close enough that I can see the pulse jumping in his neck.
I hate that it still affects me, that my body still remembers every inch of him.
"You know, I used to think you just didn't do relationships because the only thing you took seriously was hockey.
I actually believed that you were this lone wolf who couldn't be tied down like Neo or Shane.
But it turns out, you just didn't do me. What was I too easy for you?”
His mouth twitches, but he doesn't bite. Doesn't defend himself. Doesn't say I'm wrong.
Because he can't.
The prick.
"Does she know?" I press, my voice dropping lower. More intimate. "About us? About all the things you’ve done to me in that house?”
He exhales hard, looking away toward the science building like the architecture suddenly became fascinating.
That's all the answer I need.
"Wow." I laugh again, but this time it's soft and mean. "You're a real piece of shit, Bass Morelli. A secret fuck fest with the brand manager? Real smart move. While I’m sure it wouldn’t affect the golden hockey boy if the world knew, I bet it would be a real problem if her professors found out.”
He turns back to me then, and his eyes are hard. Cold. "Don't, Gia."
"Oh, I won't." I tilt my head, giving him my sweetest smile.
The one that I used all the time whenever I was around him.
"But you know how gossip works around here.
This campus is small. All it takes is one whisper at the right party, one comment to the right person, and suddenly everyone knows that Kai Vega isn't just managing your image—she's managing your dick too. "
“That’s enough, Gia.” His hands clench into fists at his sides. "You're better than this.”
"Am I?" The question hangs between us like a challenge. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn’t seem like you think I’m better at all.”
“We never were a thing, Gia. I never lied to you.”
“Maybe not– but you made me look stupid in front of everyone at the house.”
“Gia, you’ve slept with at least three people in that house.”
“Are you freakin’ slut shaming me now?” I ask, enraged. The nerve of this arrogant asshole. “You made me think I mattered, that all those nights meant something, and then you just... move on to this bitch like I’m nothing!”
"That's not what this is.”
"It is what it is." I cut him off because I don't want to hear his excuses or weak explanations.
"You wanted easy, and I gave you easy. You wanted someone who wouldn't ask questions or make demands, and I was that girl.
But her?" I gesture toward the building again.
"She's going to want more. She's going to want the things you don't know how to give.
And when you fuck it up—because you will fuck it up, Bass, that's what you do—don't come crying to me. "
For a moment, we just stand there, staring each other down under the blinding Nevada sun. His eyes are unreadable, that mask firmly in place, but mine? Mine are pure fire. There’s no way he could miss the rage behind them.
Because for all the girls who've tripped over themselves for Bass Morelli, I was there first. Before the fame got to his head.
Before he became the Ice Mafia's go-to bad boy. I was the one who helped him study for his sports nutrition midterm. The one who made him homemade soup when he got the flu freshman year. And sure, did I have a little fun with some of the other guys on the team before I made a connection with him? Yeah. What can I say? I love hockey players, but I’m the one who believed he was more than a jersey and a penalty box.
Me.
And now he's giving the attention, the affection– and careful pieces of himself I worked for to her. To someone who probably doesn't even realize how rare it is. How special. To someone who hasn’t even earned it.
"Be careful, Bass," I say finally, stepping back and smoothing down my crop top.
"Girls like her? They can’t stomach guys like you.
She might think she's different, might think she can handle your bullshit, but she can't. She’s not built for it. You're going to break her heart. It’s just a matter of time.”
He opens his mouth, but I'm already walking away, hips swishing along the walkway like a slow, deliberate warning. Like the ticking of a clock counting down to something inevitable.
By the time I reach my car, my pulse is a full-blown drumbeat in my ears. My hands are shaking as I dig for my keys, and I hate it. I hate that he has this power over me and that seeing him with her made me feel small and disposable and forgettable.
I slam the door shut and grip the steering wheel hard enough that my nails leave crescents in the leather.
He made me look stupid. Again.
And that girl—Kai Vega—thinks she's special. Thinks she's different. Thinks she's the one who's going to tame Bass Morelli and turn him into boyfriend material.
But she's not.
She's just another girl who'll learn the hard way that you can't fix a man who doesn't think he's broken.
My phone buzzes in my purse. It’s a text from Benny—a freshman who sits on the bench of the hockey team. He keeps asking me for help with a study session, which is obvious code for fucking, but today I think I may finally take him up on my offer.
I stare at the message for a long moment, then look back toward campus. Toward Sol Pueblo, where Bass is probably still standing there, probably already forgetting this conversation happened.
A thought creeps in. Dark. Tempting.
I could tell people. I could let it slip at the next party to the right people that Bass and Kai are more than professional.
The story would grow into a life of its own.
Bass is important to this school, to college hockey.
They’d talk about Kai all over social media.
Hell, they’d track down what the hell she ate for lunch yesterday. It would make her life a living hell.
It would be easy. So damn easy.
I start the car, AC blasting, and pull out of the parking lot.
A part of me wants to drive toward the communications building, where I know Kai has class. I’d sit and wait for her. Then we’d have a little chat, and I’d tell her every dirty thing that boy has ever done to me. She'd never look at him in the same way again.
That would fix his ass.
Or...I could just go fuck Benny and get over him.
Hmm, decisions, decisions.