Chapter 22
Nick
I dipped my head, pressing a slow kiss to the side of her neck.
Her skin was warm and soft, and the way she shivered against me had my control fraying at the edges.
The beat of the song pulsed through the club, but all I could focus on was the way she fit against me—her body molded to mine like she was made for it.
I moved us in time with the rhythm, my hand splayed low on her back as I guided her across the dance floor.
Every sway, every brush of her hips against mine, sent heat coiling through my veins.
There were so many things I wanted to do to her right then—so many ways I wanted to claim her fully, to make sure no one ever questioned who she belonged to again.
But not here. Not with a hundred strangers watching.
She was mine—but she was for me, not for show. Not for anyone else’s eyes.
I pulled her a little closer anyway, just to remind everyone in the room what they couldn’t have.
She tilted her head to look at me, and fuck, the trust in her gaze nearly wrecked me.
She didn’t even realize the power she had—how just being near her made me want to burn the world down and build her a safer one in its place.
When the song finally ended, I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “Come on.”
She nodded, and I laced my fingers through hers—tight, unbreakable—and led her back to our table. Every step away from the dance floor felt like reclaiming something. Not just her body pressed against mine, but her confidence, her safety, her future.
She was with me.
And that meant everything.
I turned Kennedy to face me, letting my hands settle on her waist as the flickering lights painted her in shades of violet and gold. The noise of the club fell away. For a second, it was just her—glowing under the haze, eyes searching mine.
I raised my glass between us. “To us,” I said, voice low, steady.
She smiled and lifted her glass to meet mine. The clink echoed like a promise. I watched her sip—watched the champagne glint against her lips—and something primal twisted in my chest. God, she was beautiful. She always had been. But tonight? She looked like something untouchable… and she was mine.
I leaned in, not caring who was watching, and kissed her.
It started soft—controlled. But the second she melted into me, everything else disappeared.
Her lips parted, and I deepened the kiss, tasting the bubbles on her tongue and the fire in her skin.
My pulse roared in my ears. I wrapped my arm tighter around her, needing her closer, needing to show her exactly what she did to me.
She was everything. And this kiss? It was a line in the sand.
When we finally pulled back, her breath was shallow, her cheeks flushed. I kept one hand against her jaw, watching her eyes flutter open. She looked wrecked. Wrecked for me.
“Wow,” she whispered, voice unsteady. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”
I swallowed hard, thumb brushing her cheek. “Only because you are.”
It came out rougher than I meant it to—gravel edged with truth. But she didn’t flinch. She smiled. That small, quiet smile that always managed to gut me.
And yet, under all of it, I felt it again—that creeping shadow trying to slip in. The way people had looked at us earlier. The whispers. The judgment. Like they were waiting for us to break under the pressure. Like they thought I didn’t deserve her.
Maybe I didn’t.
But I wasn’t letting her go.
Not now. Not ever.
I kissed her like I was staking a claim.
Because I was.
Sweet, slow, then deeper—until every trace of champagne was gone and the only thing I could taste was her. When we finally pulled apart, her lips were flushed, her eyes glassy, and I felt that same fierce, almost painful pull in my chest.
Mine.
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, wanting to take her home and prove it again. And again. And again.
But then the voices behind us filtered back in—laughter, music, and my idiot teammates who couldn’t shut up to save their lives.
Kennedy started to smile and lean into me, but I caught the sound of Drew’s voice and groaned. “You want to go back to the table for five minutes so I can shut them up?”
She laughed. “Lead the way, Captain Maddox.”
I laced my fingers through hers and led her across the VIP section, ignoring the stares and the flash of a camera as we passed. The guys were mid-conversation—loud, chaotic, and clearly up to something.
“Look who remembered he has teammates,” Axel boomed as we slid back into the booth.
“I never forgot,” I said, tugging Kennedy onto my lap like it was second nature. “I just had better company.”
Greyson grinned like the smug bastard he was. “You know, most people wait until the third date to get married. You skipped the whole process like it was a goddamn side quest.”
“Didn’t need three dates,” I said, smirking as Kennedy stole a sip of my champagne. “I knew the first night.”
“Of course you did,” Everett muttered. “Possessive lunatic.”
Sam gave me a warm smile. “She’s good for you.”
“She is,” I said, meaning every word.
Dominic raised an eyebrow, tilting his glass at me. “You look… satisfied. Smug. Like a man who’s just eaten and wants to start a fight.”
Kennedy choked on her drink, blushing.
“Can’t help it,” I said, brushing my knuckles over her thigh. “Marriage suits me.”
Drew leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Just tell me you didn’t forget how to flirt. Or sin. Or lie. We’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“I flirted last night,” I said casually. “Right before I made her scream my name.”
“Jesus,” Luke muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He’s gone.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything—just stared at Kennedy like he was measuring her in some quiet, strategic way. Typical.
Rhys hadn’t moved from his spot, arms crossed, eyes on the dancers like he was silently judging the entire human race. “You’ve been married five minutes and I already need a nap.”
“You always need a nap,” I shot back.
He shrugged. “You’re just loud about your feelings.”
“You should try having some,” Kennedy said sweetly. The entire table blinked at her.
Axel barked out a laugh. “I like her.”
“Careful,” I said. “She’s violent when provoked.”
She leaned in, kissing the edge of my jaw. “Only when someone calls our marriage a side quest.”
I grinned as the guys erupted in another round of laughter, insults, and toasts to our win.
But under it all, I felt it—that quiet hum under my skin. She was here, on my lap, in my life, and I wasn’t letting go.
Not now. Not ever.
The guys were still ribbing me, tossing out digs about domestic bliss and whipped husbands like they weren’t secretly jealous. I let them talk. Let them have their fun. They’d figure it out eventually—how good it felt to have someone who looked at you like Kennedy looked at me.
I glanced across the booth just in time to catch Greyson slipping a bill into Luke’s hand under the table.
“Don’t even try to be subtle,” I said. “What the hell was that?”
Greyson shrugged, that smug smirk practically trademarked at this point. “Just paying off a friendly bet.”
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “What kind of bet?”
Luke sighed like I’d just exposed state secrets. “We made a deal. First one to land a girl that makes him cancel his rotation schedule wins.”
I snorted. “So you lost.”
Greyson looked unbothered. “Technically, we both lost. Unless you count that nightmare brunch I survived last week as a romantic milestone. Spoiler alert—it ended with a bloody Mary in my lap and an ex-girlfriend keying my car.”
“Sounds like true love,” Kennedy said dryly.
Luke leaned back, arms stretched across the booth, watching the dance floor like he was hunting something… or someone. “Mine wasn’t much better. She tried to move in after the second night.”
“She brought a toothbrush,” Rhys added without looking up from his drink. “Then a cat.”
“An emotional support cat,” Luke corrected, deadpan. “I woke up to whiskers in my face and vomit on my leather couch. I’ve been traumatized ever since.”
Axel cackled. “Maybe the cat just knew you were emotionally unavailable.”
Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s not about being unavailable. It’s about standards. I want someone who keeps me guessing. Luke wants someone who doesn’t name their succulents.”
“She had a whole windowsill garden,” Luke muttered. “One was named after me. Creepy.”
I leaned in, grin stretching wide. “So what’s the bet now? Who finds a real one first?”
Greyson met my gaze. “Real is subjective. I’m just looking for the girl who ruins me in the best way.”
Luke’s expression shifted, just for a second. Something almost wistful passed through his eyes before he masked it again with that signature cocky tilt of his mouth. “I’m looking for one who doesn’t need saving. But makes me want to try, anyway.”
Kennedy blinked. “Okay, that’s… oddly poetic.”
Greyson chuckled. “We’ve got depth. Somewhere under the sarcasm and abs.”
“Emphasis on somewhere,” Rhys muttered.
Kennedy laughed, and I kissed her temple. But part of me kept watching them—my brothers—knowing full well that when their stories hit, they’d hit hard.
Love wasn’t some slow burn for our team. It came in like a fucking storm.
And they had no idea what was coming.
I took a sip of champagne, the fizz still clinging to Kennedy’s lips in my memory, when Axel let out a low whistle and leaned forward.
“Speaking of grudges,” he said, voice dripping with mischief, “is it true we’ve got Gary’s team next week?”
A ripple of anticipation went around the table.
“Oh, it’s true,” Wyatt said, cracking his knuckles. “Coach confirmed it after the game. First time we face them since the… well, you know.”
Everyone glanced at Kennedy instinctively.
She raised her glass, completely unfazed. “Since the scandal?” she offered sweetly. “Go ahead. I’m not fragile.”
Axel looked impressed. “She’s a keeper.”
I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Yeah, I know.”
Dominic leaned forward, his usual hard stare tinged with something bordering on entertained. “You know he’s going to be gunning for you.”
“Good,” I said. No hesitation. No blink. Just truth. “I want him to be mad. I hope he’s mad.”
Everett arched a brow. “He’s going to lose it if you score on him. Especially if she’s in the stands.”
“She will be,” I said. “On the glass.”
Greyson let out a low laugh. “Oh, man. Gary’s going to combust.”
Rhys finally spoke, voice dry and unbothered. “We should keep a medic on standby. For him, not us.”
“You gonna score first period?” Luke asked, already picturing the chaos.
I leaned back in the booth, arm slung behind Kennedy as she nestled into my side. “No,” I said. “I’m going to wait.”
Axel blinked. “Wait?”
“Yeah,” I said, gaze locked on no one and everyone. “I want him to feel it coming. Build the suspense. Let him think he might walk away clean. And then?” I tapped my glass against the table with a sharp clink. “I bury the puck and point to the box where she’s sitting.”
The guys lost it—cheers, groans, laughter overlapping.
Greyson lifted his drink. “To making grown men cry.”
Luke added, “To revenge goals.”
Kennedy smiled against my shoulder, and I felt her breath against my neck as she whispered, “You’re kind of scary when you’re like this.”
I kissed her hair. “That’s the point.”
Because next week?
Gary’s world burned. And I was the one lighting the match.
I felt Kennedy’s fingers absently tracing the seam of my jeans, her head resting on my shoulder as the guys kept razzing Luke and Greyson. But then her gaze drifted toward the edge of the VIP section, tracking something—or someone.
I followed her line of sight.
A girl—legs for days, dress short enough to qualify as a napkin—sidled up to Rhys, all hips and over-applied gloss. She leaned in, clearly expecting a reaction.
Rhys didn’t blink. Didn’t look. Didn’t even flinch. The man was a wall of indifference in all black, arms crossed, gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder like she didn’t exist.
Axel leaned forward, his grin sharp. “Oof. Brutal. Better luck next time, sweetheart.”
The girl huffed and turned on her heel, heels clicking like gunshots as she disappeared back into the crowd. Rhys didn’t even acknowledge the aftermath.
Kennedy’s lips curled in amusement. “Does he ever react to anything?”
“Rhys?” I smirked. “He once got hit with a puck to the jaw and didn’t even blink. A girl in glitter doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Cold,” she murmured.
“Controlled,” I corrected. “It’s different.”
She tilted her head back to look at me, eyes glinting with challenge. “And you?”
“I burn.”
Her breath hitched.
That was my cue.
I downed the last of my drink, set the glass on the table, and stood, tugging her gently up with me. My hand wrapped around hers, possessive, sure. She moved into me like gravity was pulling her in—and maybe it was. Maybe it always would.
I leaned in close, my mouth brushing her ear, my voice low and rough just for her.
“Let’s go home.”
Her inhale was sharp. Audible. She shivered.
God, that sound—that reaction—it lit me up from the inside out. My blood thickened. My thoughts went dark.
I pulled her tighter against me, smirking as I felt the way her body molded to mine, already responding.
Yeah.
Home.
But we weren’t sleeping.
As I guided Kennedy past the velvet rope, the guys noticed.
“Look at that,” Axel called out, grinning like the devil himself. “Maddox is about to disappear like Houdini again.”
Greyson raised his glass with mock solemnity. “Gone but never forgotten.”
Luke elbowed Sam, stage-whispering loud enough for the whole damn VIP section to hear, “I give it twenty minutes before she’s making those sounds again.”
Kennedy flushed. I didn’t. Didn’t even slow down.
“Don’t wait up,” I tossed over my shoulder, not bothering to look back.
“Let the man cook,” Drew added with a lazy salute, smirking over his drink.
“Cook?” Axel barked a laugh. “He’s been at a full simmer since she walked in.”
Rhys, ever the voice of reason—or just the embodiment of apathy—merely muttered, “Amateurs,” before sipping his water.
I didn’t reply. Their voices faded the moment we hit the stairs, my hand pressed against the small of Kennedy’s back like I was branding her—like I could.
Because I wanted her home. Now.
Not for the noise. Not for the chaos.
For us.
By the time we hit the parking lot, the air had cooled, but everything in me still burned.
And judging by the way she looked up at me—like she was already unwrapped beneath my hands—I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
Tonight wasn’t over.
Not even close.