Chapter 37
Juliet
The four-city road trip feels like living in a beautiful dream I’m afraid to wake up from.
I stay in Hunter’s hotel room every night, which feels indulgent and messy and private in the best way. I spend my days in PR meetings, media coordination, and putting out the occasional fire that comes with managing a team full of athletes with too much money and not enough impulse control.
Beck Tate lands in the hot seat not once but twice for growling at a fan in public. Alex Thorne, his co-captain, is right there with him. He won’t stop going on podcasts and opening his giant mouth about anything and everything. It’s infuriating what these guys get up to in their downtime.
But at night? I watch every game, seeing Hunter in his element on the ice.
I kiss him in public like I’m actually allowed to do it.
We fall asleep tangled up together in unfamiliar beds that somehow feel more like home than my apartment ever did.
I have the feeling of hanging balanced on a very high precipice, but Hux is here with me.
It feels dangerous and yet the rush is intoxicating. He is intoxicating.
He looks at me with those blue-gray eyes, clearly feeling… something. And I’m hooked. I’ve bought a ticket to this ride, I’m hanging on for dear life, and he knows it.
It makes me ache, the way he softens when no one’s watching.
Sometimes I think he hates the whole damn world…
but then he looks at me and his smile is the exception.
He traces patterns on my skin like he’s trying to memorize the feeling.
He whispers my name, and I’m drunk on it, powerless, beyond infatuated.
I’m not ready for this to end. I’m not sure Hunter is, either. We haven’t talked about it in specific, but it seems like we will just ignore the end of our contract and… live together? That part is murky.
There’s a stretch in Denver where everything feels close to perfect. I don’t use that word lightly, but this? This might actually be it. Waking up next to Hunter, working a job I love, feeling like I belong somewhere for the first time in my adult life.
Could life really stay like this? It’s hard to imagine it ending, but also hard to believe it could last. Because it’s fragile, I’m trying so hard to hold it. It will break. It has to.
My phone buzzes with another text from my mother. A link to some prestigious law fellowship with a note that says, “It’s not too late to apply.”
I delete it without opening the link, then send back a quick reply
I love my job. I’m not interested.
Her response comes immediately. A condescending thumbs-up emoji.
Someday you’ll understand.
I stare at the message for a long moment, then delete the entire conversation. I’m done explaining myself to people who refuse to see me.
“Everything okay?” Hunter asks, looking up from the game footage he’s reviewing on his laptop.
“Just my mother being my mother.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really. Feel like distracting me instead?”
He pulls me onto his lap, kissing me until I forget all about condescending text messages and parental disapproval. This? This is the best feeling ever.
* * *
The next morning, Ivy shows up at the Denver arena for the morning skate with a red-headed girl who looks like she’s running on pure sunlight.
“Everyone, this is Mollie Tate,” Ivy announces. Ivy sounds proud, like she’s already decided Mollie’s going to be a favorite.
Mollie towers over me at five-seven with an extra curvy hourglass build.
Her hair is coppery strawberry blonde that falls in a messy wave, catching the light when she turns her head.
Freckles dust her cheeks and shoulders, and her blue-green eyes are wide and expressive, practically glowing with nerves and excitement.
She’s wearing a riot of a floral dress, bold lipstick, and oversized sunglasses shoved on top of her head like she forgot they were there.
“Hi!” she blurts, too loud, too quick. “I’m so excited to be here. This is amazing.”
She laughs at herself when the words tumble out, a little embarrassed but not enough to hide her enthusiasm.
“She’s Beck’s sister, but I found her by accident when I was searching for someone who knows the ins and outs of TikTok.
” Ivy beams at her, squeezing her arm. “Mollie’s our new social media hire.
She’ll be working on content for the team channels.
I brought her here to dive into the pool headfirst.”
Mollie nods so fast I worry her sunglasses are going to slide right off.
“Hi, I’m Juliet.” I step forward, offering her a handshake. “Don’t worry. It’s overwhelming at first, but you’ll find your rhythm.”
Mollie exhales like she’s been holding her breath. “Thank you. I was up half the night writing ideas for TikToks. Then I realized I’ve never even been in a locker room before. Awkward, no?”
I shake my head, amused. “The only thing they’ll notice is if you stand too close to the laundry bins and accidentally swoon at the smell. Avoid those things like the plague and you’ll survive just fine.”
That gets her giggling, bright and effervescent. I already love her energy.
Beck Tate skates over to us, pulling his helmet off and holding it under his arm. He’s also knock-you-out handsome. He’s tall with trimmed salt and pepper hair, dark eyes, and cheekbones that could cut. His dark facial hair has flecks of silver in it. “Moll! You made it.”
“I did.” The radiant smile she gives her big brother makes my heart squeeze. “Are we still on for tonight? You, me, the munchkin, and as many tacos as we can eat?”
Beck nods. “You know it, kiddo.”
“Beck!” Mollie looks at the two of us standing here. “No lame nicknames. You promised!”
His lips twitch. “Sorry, Mollie Marie Tate. I’ll call you by your full name from here on out.”
“Go play hockey,” Ivy says, dismissing him with a wave. “We’re busy over here.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Beck laughs, putting his helmet on. “See you tonight. Bring those tortillas that Rosie likes.”
When he skates away, Mollie sighs. “Rosie is my niece. And she only likes these super fresh tortillas that my neighbor sells from her kitchen because Rosie has great taste.”
“You’re making me hungry,” I chime in.
“Really? Cause you two are welcome to take part in the taco party anytime.”
“Tacos are so damn good,” Ivy murmurs.
Thorne skates up with a bottle of water, his shoulder pads making his already ridiculously tall frame seem bulky. “Hey.”
“We just got rid of Beck. We’re trying to work,” Ivy chides.
Thorne ignores her and looks at me. “I, uh, might need to talk to you later. I’m not sure yet.”
Suspicious. “Why?” I ask.
“I have a situation.” He shrugs and glances at Ivy and Mollie. He probably doesn’t want to tell me anything in front of them. “I’ll monitor it and keep you updated.”
“Please do.”
Mollie, for her part, seems frozen, staring at Thorne. Her notebook slips from her hands and she nearly drops it. “Hi,” she blurts, voice shooting high and thin. “Nice skating out there.”
“Moll.” Thorne lifts his brows a fraction and gives her a curt nod. "Beck just invited me to taco night.”
“Oh!” Mollie’s brain is a 50-tab browser, every single page frozen at once. She turns bright pink. “Whatever. Couldn’t care less.”
As far as statements go, it doesn’t seem true. Mollie is quite affected by Thorne, for whatever reason. I have to say I understand, because Thorne is white-hot. Mollie catches our expressions and rushes to give some context.
“Beck and Alex have been besties since sixth grade. We all go way back. And yes, if you were wondering, Thorne has always been an arrogant jerk.”
“As much as I love being stuck in this conversation, we have stuff to tackle.” Ivy sighs. “Thorne, no offense, but get lost. We’re trying to have a meeting here.”
Thorne pins me with an intense expression. “See you around?”
“Sure. You know where to find me.”
He pushes off the side wall, skating away, chugging from his water bottle.
“Okay.” Ivy elbows Mollie gently and Mollie startles. “Why don’t you fill us in on your propositions for the team’s social media?”
Mollie tucks a strand of brilliant copper hair behind her ear and grins.
“How much do you know about TikTok’s algos?” Our blank expressions in response make her grin. “Watch time, engagement, hooks, retention, personalization, freshness, and consistency. That’s the order of operations for getting TikTok to eat up your content.”
I lean in. “Go on…”
* * *
Later that day, we have what feels like our most public date yet. Lunch at a trendy restaurant in downtown Phoenix, holding hands across the table while photographers snap pictures from across the street. I barely notice the cameras. They’ve become background noise.
“You okay?” Hux rubs the back of my hand.
I realize that I’ve been staring off into space for a full minute. I smile. “Sorry. I’m just… happy? It’s not really something I thought our relationship would bring.”
“Our relationship, huh?” He raises his eyebrows.
My face heats. “I just meant… you know…”
“Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” He leans in, eyes sparkling. “You’re talking about how you’re a good girl for me at night.”
“Hux!” I duck my head. “I’m not talking about that at all.”
He purses his lips and pretends to think. “Are you saying that you don’t want to get fucked so hard tonight that we break another bed?”
“Will you keep your voice down?” I squeak. “Honestly, Hunter. You are the absolute worst.”
“I know.” He smirks, his fingers finding the pulse point at my wrist. “You like it, though. You can’t tell me you don’t want to slip off to the bathroom for a few minutes and let me ruin that pussy.”
My mouth goes dry. “In the bathroom? Here??”
Hux’s lips twitch. “There’s so much that I want to do with you, Monroe. Do you know how many sex toys I have bookmarked for you? I want to get caught fucking in the supply closet. I want to wake you up with my face in your pussy. In the shower, on the ice, over the phone when I’m away…”