Chapter Eight Mason Reed #3
Sophie stood at the boards now, shoulders squared, face unreadable.
Luca’s smile faded a fraction.
So there it was.
History.
The kind that could still bruise.
“I just wanted to say hello to an old friend,” Luca said.
Billie’s voice dropped. “Then you should have asked the old friend.”
The lobby went silent.
Mason looked at Billie.
So did Luca.
For the first time, the Melbourne captain’s polished expression cracked.
Only a little.
Enough.
Behind Billie, Sophie stepped off the ice through the nearest gate. She walked across the matting, skates guarded, posture controlled. Every eye in the lobby tracked her.
Mason hated that for her.
Sophie stopped beside Billie.
Not behind her.
Beside.
“Hello, Luca,” she said.
Luca looked at her.
All the smugness thinned into something more complicated.
“Sophie.”
“You’re not allowed in medical areas,” she said.
His mouth tightened. “I heard.”
“And you don’t have my permission to use our past for publicity.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Yes,” she said. “You were.”
Nate whispered, “Oh, she’s good.”
Theo whispered back, “Quiet.”
Luca’s gaze dropped briefly, then returned to Sophie’s face. “I wanted to see you.”
The words were too quiet for the press woman’s mic, Mason hoped.
Sophie did not soften.
“You should have texted me,” she said. “Not Billie.”
Luca’s jaw flexed.
Billie’s head turned slightly. “So it was you.”
He did not deny it.
Mark muttered something under his breath.
Harper’s phone stayed lowered, which told Mason more about the seriousness of the moment than anything else.
Luca looked at Billie. “I shouldn’t have used your number.”
“No,” Billie said. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I apologise.”
Billie’s eyebrows rose. “To me?”
Luca looked like he was not used to being led through basic manners.
“To you,” he said. Then to Sophie. “And to you.”
Sophie nodded once. “Accepted for now.”
For now.
Mason nearly smiled.
Billie’s influence was contagious.
Luca’s gaze shifted to Mason again, and the mask slid back on. “So. Friday?”
Mason held his stare. “Friday.”
“Looking forward to seeing how serious you are.”
There it was.
The bait.
Simple. Obvious. Effective.
Every competitive nerve in Mason’s body wanted to answer.
Instead, he glanced at Billie.
She was not looking at him.
She did not need to.
Stand steady.
Mason smiled lightly. “Bring a donation.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
Nate inhaled like he had witnessed art.
Theo murmured, “Good.”
Billie stepped closer to Luca, not intimidated by height, fame, cheekbones, or misplaced arrogance. “Your staff can coordinate with Mark. You are welcome Friday under the terms we set. If you arrive early again with unscheduled media, you won’t enter the building.”
The press woman looked disappointed.
Luca looked intrigued.
That annoyed Mason, but he stayed quiet.
Billie continued, “And if you contact me, Sophie, or any staff through private numbers again, your invitation becomes a donation request without ice access.”
Luca stared at her.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
“Harbour Ice has teeth.”
Billie’s smile matched his and won. “Skate blades, actually.”
Nate whispered, “I’m going to faint.”
Evie, who had appeared behind the front desk with the kangaroo head tucked under one arm, whispered, “Do it quietly.”
Luca looked from Billie to Sophie.
Something unsaid passed across his face before he gave a short nod.
“Friday, then.”
He turned and walked out with the Kings staffer and the disappointed SportNow reporter.
The lobby doors closed behind him.
Nobody moved.
Then Nate whispered, “I would like to formally state that I was brave.”
Alby said, “You hid behind Theo.”
“Bravely.”
Billie turned to Sophie. “You okay?”
Sophie exhaled.
This time, she nodded like maybe it was halfway true. “Yes.”
Mason watched Billie’s shoulders lower a fraction.
She had handled it. Protected the rink, the session, Sophie, the event, and somehow kept Mason from turning into a headline with fists.
He wanted to tell her she was extraordinary.
He did not.
Not in front of everyone.
Harper stepped forward. “Good news and bad news.”
Billie closed her eyes. “Why would you start with that?”
“Because there is both.”
“Bad.”
“The SportNow reporter posted from the car park that Luca stopped by Harbour Ice unexpectedly and was turned away by Billie Hartley.”
Billie opened her eyes. “Good?”
Harper’s mouth curved.
“She called you the Ice Queen of Sydney Hockey.”
A beat.
Then Max, from somewhere he absolutely should not have been, yelled, “THAT IS BETTER THAN TALL REGRET!”
Mason looked at Billie.
Billie looked at Mason.
Her expression was horrified.
His smile spread before he could stop it.
“No flirting,” she warned.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was about to say Your Majesty.”
Nate screamed.
Harper started typing.
Billie pointed at Mason with murder in her eyes and colour high in her cheeks.
“Do not,” she said.
But outside, SportNow’s post was already climbing, and within minutes the internet had crowned Billie Hartley the Ice Queen of Sydney Hockey.
Mason knew one thing with absolute certainty.
He was never going to survive Friday.