Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
BASS
Kai's still in her game-night outfit—what she calls her boss bitch uniform.
Black slacks that hug her curves just right, a crisp white blouse tucked under a tailored black jacket, and her hair pulled back in that sleek ponytail, even though a few rebellious strands have escaped to frame her face.
Most students don't understand why she dresses like this for what's essentially a college hockey game, but I get it completely.
She's establishing authority, drawing boundaries, and making sure everyone knows she's here in a professional capacity.
It doesn't stop her from looking sexy as hell, though. And it doesn’t stop me from remembering what it feels like to be balls deep inside of her.
Kai’s laptop bag is slung over one shoulder, and she's leaning against my passenger door like she's been waiting for me. Like she belongs right there in that exact spot.
Because she does.
The parking lot lights hit her skin at an angle that makes her glow like some kind of bronze goddess—the type of woman that inspires dirty love songs or the kind of woman that men fuck over and spend the rest of their lives regretting.
I’m definitely not trying to be that guy.
"You okay?" she asks softly when I approach.
The fact that she’s worried about me makes me feel like crap.
I should tell her. Right now. I should tell her everything because it all happened before I met her, right?
Hell, a lot of girls happened before Kai.
But the moment I had an inkling that something was different about her, I left Gia alone.
But my fear is that if Kai discovers that Gia and I have been more than friends, she’s going to bail on me.
I’m learning that what my arrogant ass thought was a mutually causal arrangement between me and an infamous puck punny was not.
And now that I know Gia’s not the kind of girl to move on quietly, I imagine she's probably plotting something even as we stand here.
I'm terrified—actually fucking terrified—that she's about to ruin my relationship with Kai before it even starts.
So instead, I lie.
"Yeah," I say, dropping my gear bag at my feet and hitting the key fob to pop the trunk. "Just an off night."
Kai doesn't look convinced. Her dark eyes search my face, looking for tells and weaknesses in my defense. "You seemed really distracted out there. That's not like you at all."
"Guess I was too far in my head." I force a smile that feels brittle and fake. "It happens sometimes."
She studies me for a long moment, her head tilted slightly to one side, and I can tell she knows I'm not being completely honest with her.
But she doesn't push. That's not Kai's style.
She doesn't interrogate or demand or make scenes.
Instead, she steps closer, closing the distance between us, and her fingertips brush against my wrist in a touch so feather-light it shouldn't affect me this much.
But it does. Everything she does affects me on some cellular level I can't explain.
"Every hockey god is entitled to an off night," she says, her voice carrying that quiet confidence that first drew me to her. "I bet this is your first one all season."
The smile she gives me is small and steady, but it kills me every single time—the one that makes me forget every stupid mistake I've ever made, every embarrassing headline about "bad boy Bass Morelli,” every puck bunny I shouldn't have touched, every bar fight I should have walked away from.
The smile that makes me want to be better than I am.
The smile that makes me believe maybe I actually can be.
"Let me walk you home," I say, even though I know what her answer will be. "Both of you."
Sue is waiting near the edge of the parking lot, scrolling through her phone and politely pretending not to notice us.
"We're fine," Kai says, already backing away. "It's like five minutes. We've walked it a hundred times."
Damn, I want to kiss her.
I desperately want to claim her mouth for the world to see so that every fucker on this campus knows that Kai Vega belongs to me. The fact that I can’t is eating me alive and allowing people like Gia to take advantage. I hate it.
"Kai—"
"Text me when you get home, okay?" She's moving further away now, putting professional distance between us again. Always careful. Always thinking about the optics.
I want to pull her back. Want to kiss her right here in the open where anyone could see. Want to tell everyone in this parking lot and this entire campus that she's mine and I'm hers and fuck what anyone thinks about it. And the bonus? It would end the “power” Gia thinks she has over me.
But I don't do it. Because Kai and I have rules. Because we made an agreement. Because keeping this thing between us a secret seemed like such a brilliant idea a month ago when we first crossed that line.
Now it feels like the dumbest decision I’ve ever agreed to.
I watch her walk away, her figure growing smaller as she and Sue head toward the campus apartments where most upperclassmen live. The guilt hits me like a freight train to the chest once she's out of sight.
Because she believes me. She trusts me.
And for the first time since this thing between us started—since our first unexpected kiss, since the first time we slept together and I learned what it felt like to actually care about someone beyond the physical, since the first time she looked at me like I might actually be worth something more than a class assignment—I’ve lied straight to her face.
I get in my car and grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, until I can practically see bone beneath skin. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache.
Gia's not done with me. I know it in my gut the same way I know when a dirty hit's coming on the ice, that split-second warning before impact. And the next time she shows up, I have a feeling it won't just be to watch the game and smirk at me from the stands like some demented hockey groupie.
It'll be to destroy everything I'm trying to build with Kai.
The drive back to the Ice House feels longer than it should.
Every stoplight takes an eternity. Every turn reminds me that I'm heading home (probably to a hostile environment) when what I really want is to be with Kai.
In her bed. In her space. In that tiny bedroom where she keeps everything organized and color-coded, where it's just us and none of this outside bullshit can touch us.
But we can't do that. Not openly. Because of our arrangement. Because of her reputation and career aspirations. Because keeping this relationship secret seemed so smart when we first started, now it feels like a trap.
My phone buzzes when I pull into a parking space near the house, and my heart does this stupid, hopeful leap before I even look at the screen.
Kai: Home safe. Get some rest.
I stare at the message way too long before responding, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard while I try to figure out how I want to respond. I’m overthinking every fucking thing now.
Me: You too. Thanks for coming tonight.
Kai: Always.
That word—always—sits in my chest like a promise I don't deserve. Like a vow, I'm terrified I'm about to break through my own stupidity.
Kai: And of course, coming to the games is part of our deal.
Right, the deal. Usually, I’d laugh at her, reminding me of our arrangement. God knows she never lets me forget it. But tonight, I’m not in the mood to laugh for a lot of reasons, so I don’t respond. I just want to go to bed and forget this night ever happened.
I try to prepare myself for whatever shit my teammates are going to give me before I step inside the Ice House.
I played horribly, and somebody’s going to want an explanation.
That’s one of the downsides of sharing a living space with your teammates.
There’s no running from them when you want to avoid them.
Inside the house, Neo's on the couch with Violet wrapped around him like a pretzel, and Shane's in the kitchen blending one of his disgusting protein shakes. They both look up when I walk in, but neither says anything about the game.
Small mercies.
“You good, man?” Neo asks, which is about as close to sympathy as anyone in this house is going to give me.
"Yeah." I don't elaborate. “I’m good.”
I head upstairs to my room, close the door, and sit on the edge of my bed in the dark like some kind of depressed emo kid from a 2000s music video.
My phone lights up with another text, but this time it's not from Kai.
Gia: We need to talk. Tomorrow. My place. Don't make me come find you.
Seriously, universe?
This is some bullshit.