16. Pepper
It’s electric. The crowd. The cheers. The air. And I’m in the middle of it all. The energy is so contagious, I’m glowing with it.
The cheering turns rabid when the Denver Kings hit the ice. I’m surrounded by poster signs with hand drawn hearts and big letters that read;
Chase “The King” Reeves
Make Me Your Queen, King.
and All Hail, the Kings of the Ice—at least that one goes out to them all.
The teams skate around briefly before taking their position on their respective blue lines. Even when the arena falls into a unified anthem, there’s an intense energy I’m honored to be part of.
“This is so cool.”
“What? You’re cold?” Tracy shouts.
“I said this is so cool.”
“Ooh.” She frowns. “It’s been a while since you’ve skated at a game, huh?”
Oh. Right. “It just never ceases to amaze me.”
“How’s the practice and physical therapy going?”
I blink and nod. I was not prepared for more lies this evening. I stretch out my arms and settle for the truth. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
She smiles and winks. “We got you covered if you need to take a break. What was it again, your left leg or the right one?”
Fuck.
Which one was it? I scrunch my nose and look up at her. “Don’t tell anyone—but it was actually my ass.”
She laughs and groans at the same time. “Oh no. That’s terrible.” Another chuckle. “Secret is safe with me.”
Unless you knew about the million bucks on my head.
Turning back to the game, I catch Chase skate by me. He winks and licks his lips.
Subtly, I shake my head.
“Oh, aren’t you two the cutest!”
“You saw that?”
“Sure did.”
I make a mental note to be very careful if people are as curious as Tracy is.
I follow Chase on the ice while spying on some other players too—it’s incredible how fast they move. Gunning for and passing something so easy to lose track of.
Chase is so quick, it’s mesmerizing. They all are. There’s almost a rhythm to the way the players move. It’s fluid, yet rough, and totally action-packed.
Someone makes a goal and everyone on our side rises in cheer. Including the Ice Queens.
A loud horn sounds, marking the end of the second period.
On the first intermission, I stayed off the ice and helped distribute promotional flyers along the aisles.
But there’s no avoiding it now.
Tracy nudges me. “You ready? We’re up.”
I nod up at her from the bench and wink to mask my nerves. “I’m ready.”
I stagger behind as all the other Queens step onto the ice seamlessly. I watch each of them, holding my broom cautiously—like a witch in training.
Chin up.
I step on with one hand on the boards, then quickly remove it.
You don’t need it.
Is it crazy that I almost wish I had that blindfold? I could find my target just before I slip it on. It would be Chase. Not for any other reason than for the sheer fact that he’s been my anchor through all of this.
I mean he could have been a little more helpful—like let me hide out in the cottage for three to six months but nooo—I needed an identity.
The crowd’s cheers aren’t any less energetic when we step on. In fact. I think they’re louder. Four girls scatter in different directions with brooms. Each of them graceful as they maneuver the prop and wave to the crowd.
M.J. and Lena are engaging with the VIP guests on the opposite side. I use them as my focal point and push off, glancing down infrequently but keeping my head level and my smile plastered.
The cool air breezes past my cheeks. So far, so good. My glides are smooth. My vision clear. My energy high.
I’ve got this.
When I reach the two Queens as they showcase new merchandise, I offer a wave, which they give back and pivot to the other side. Quickly, I search for a focus point. Scoreboard.
Eh—a little high, but it could work.
And it does. Within minutes, I’ve reached the other side, dump the collected debris from the ice, and move on.
There’s one minute left and I need to meet the other Queens across the ice.
Relax—don’t rush it.
I extend a quick wave to some fans and find my focal point. And it’s an easy one to choose.
Chase is at the bench. Behind the glass. He’s been watching. Instantly, he locks his gaze with mine. Daring me to choose him.
I draw my line.
It leads right to him.
And I follow.
I’m coming. And I am not falling.
Our eyes stay locked as I continue to glide. And it’s seamless. It’s exhilarating. It’s perfect. It’s like I was meant for—
What the?
Someone crosses in front of me, and I lose focus, stopping short halfway there. I blink to regain momentum, but everything is blurry, and panic starts to surface. It rises from the pit of my stomach. It’s heavy and it’s crippling.
But I can’t show it.
Like that day when the police thought they were showing me the bodies of my parents.
I was both relieved and scared. Confused and hurt. Everything went hazy around me, and I started to panic on the inside.
But I couldn’t let them know.
I try to snap out of it, but the pain—it’s louder than any arena.
My heart beats hard against my chest. My knees are weakening. My throat burns.
“It’s not them,” I cried on the inside—I wouldn’t dare scream it out loud. I wasn’t that stupid.
I blink at the sight of something sliding toward me. It’s coming from the end of my line. It hits the front of my blade and I trail it backward to see where it came from.
It makes me re-trace my line.
And it leads me back to him.
With a breath, I offer a smirk at my fake fiancé and finish my race. He keeps his eyes on me after I step off the ice and there’s something I’ve never seen him do.
He’s smiling. Not a smirk, not a grin, a full real smile.
Of course he is, you idiot. He won the bet.
“Not bad, girl. Love that little exchange with you and the King. You guys plan that or something?” Tracy asks.
“Nope. I just got a little nervous—and he helped me out.”
She groans. “Ugh. I wish I had my phone. That is stupid romantic.” She waves a hand. “Eh—it’ll be all over Insta tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I didn’t get a chance to, but about half the arena pretty much caught it on camera.”
My heart stops. “W-Why?”
“You’re Chase’s fiancée. Any exchange you two have in public—especially during a game—is going to be top Denver Kings socials news. You know, other than winning because we’re crushing it tonight.”
She cheers with the others and I duck out of the high-fives, feeling the need to be invisible.
What have I done?
Half the country will see me go pale and rigid, literally frozen on the ice. And there’s no way to stop it.
When the final buzzer sounds, and the media crowds the winning team—the Kings, I fly out of the arena.
I need to get someplace safe.
Post-game media obligations are no chore for me—well not when we win anyway. But right now, I need to find my girl.
It happened again. Whatever struck her earlier tonight happened again.
What the hell are these episodes?
And what if they happen when I’m not around?
“Bridget,” I call one of the Ice Queens.
She jumps and gives me a cheerleader high five. I offer it to her but quickly follow it with “Where’s Pepper?”
She points her thumb back. “Your girl raced out of here soon as the buzzer went off. She looked like she was going to throw up.”
Shit.
I’m already moving past Bridget when she calls back. “First night jitters. I’m sure she’s fine now.”
I head for the locker rooms, leaving the rest of the team to perform interviews, fan interactions and other bullshit I can’t deal with now.
“Pepper?” I call, jogging down the empty halls like a freaking lunatic chasing after a girl who won’t stop running. “This has got to stop, Pepper.”
I hear a sniffle come from the Kings locker room and follow it until I see her. She’s tucked inside the small alcove between the locker room doors and the hallway.
Her eyes are wide with worry, her hands shaking like she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“Baby—”
Before I can finish the thought, Pepper throws her arms around me. “Congratulations, King.”
What the hell?
I don’t pull her off me. I don’t ask her what the fuck she’s hiding—I know I just heard crying. But her eyes are dry and her smile is bright when she pulls back.
I glance back toward the tunnel. Still clear. But not for long.
“Get in here.” I pull the door open and drag her in with me. “Wait here. I need seven minutes to get out of this gear.”
She licks her lips. “Alright.”
I make it out of it in record time and grab her arm. “Let’s go.”
“Where? I’m okay with doing it here,” she says.
I turn back, confused. “What?”
She smiles. “You won twice tonight. A deal is a deal.”
I watch her until it dawns on me.
“Damn right it is. That’s why we’re going across the hall.” I drag her to the Queens’ locker room. They stay on the ice longer for fan interactions and merch promo.
Once we’re inside, I lock the door and pull her into a corner. “What happened tonight?” I ask, failing miserably in keeping my voice gentle.
“I didn’t fall…” It’s all she tells me before she pulls on the waistband of my sweats.
I catch her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I lost our bet.” She perks a brow playfully, and I’m about to lose my mind.
“Can you be serious for a moment?” I snap. “What happened out there? I was three seconds away from—”
“I don’t want to talk,” she grits. “We had a deal. And I lost.” With a sly grin that irritates me, she attempts at my pants again, but I keep my grip on her wrist.
“That’s right.” I press her to the wall and bend to her ear. “And I’ve been looking forward to tasting this pussy all night.”
She jerks. “What? No. That’s not how—”
“Are you backing out of our bet?”
“No. But that wasn’t our bet. I didn’t fall so I lost. You even said—”
“Don’t twist my words, Princess, I know what I said.”
“Umm…so do I. Vividly.”
I sigh loudly. “Look. I know when no means no, so I won’t hold you to it.”
“Wh—Chase!”
“Get dressed. I’ll meet you outside.” I turn away from her and head to the door.
“Chase.” I turn at the familiar way she calls my name.
That lip is quirked playfully again, and I don’t miss a beat. I catch her panties midair and pocket the second pair of hers I now own.
I stalk toward her slowly, watching her, giving her time to reconsider. When she catches her lip between her teeth, I stop. “What is it?”
“I was alright with the other way around because—I know what I’m doing. I don’t know this way.”
“Was that even a sentence?”
“I’ve never been on the receiving end of this… I’m usually the giver.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?”
She shakes her head.
I exhale a laugh. “You shouldn’t have told me that.” I snake my hands up her skirt and grip her bare ass. “But I’m so fucking glad you did.”