Chapter 33 - Tessa
The event is at one of the big downtown hotels, the kind with chandeliers the size of a horse and too much marble everywhere.
The second the car door closes behind me, my stomach knots.
Spotlights slice across the front of the building.
People in gowns and tuxes move in and out like it’s a movie premiere.
A step-and-repeat backdrop with the team logo and sponsors’ names lines one side of the foyer; photographers cluster like vultures.
I feel stripped naked walking up the steps alone.
A PR assistant meets me with a polished smile. “Tessa! You look gorgeous. Nate’s just inside. Here, let me quickly walk you through the media line. Just a few photos, everyone’s dying to see you...”
Before I can refuse, I’m being guided into the glare of lights. Flashes go off even though I’m alone. Someone calls my name. Someone else calls, “Where’s Nate?” A microphone appears near my mouth.
“How are you liking the season so far?”
“What’s been the biggest change for you, dating the captain?”
“Are we going to see a ring soon?”
"Why haven't we seen you at recent games?"
"Tessa over here."
Flash after flash blinds me, and the headache that was building makes itself known.
My laugh comes out brittle. “I’m just here to support him,” I say. “And the charities. That’s what tonight is about, right?”
They laugh like I’m adorable, and I want to sink into the floor.
I finally get waved past the gauntlet and into the main ballroom.
Chandeliers drip light over round tables dressed in white linen and the team's blue.
A band plays something jazzy on stage. Screens around the room quietly replay season highlights, quick cuts of goals and celebrations, and Nate smiling like everything is effortless.
I scanned looking for him, I texted him on the way over, and he said he would meet me at the entrance.
But he didn't, he’s at the far side of the room, halfway up the riser to the stage, surrounded by management and a cluster of suits.
His head is tipped back in laughter, a drink in his hand.
He looks… beautiful. Polished. Untouchable.
For a second, I just watch him, because these are the moments I never see up close. The ones where he slides fully into Captain Carson, where he belongs to everyone else.
I start to move toward him, picking my way through clusters of people, when a voice grabs my attention.
“You were beautiful as Anna, but you are absolutely stunning as yourself, Ms. Lane.”
I turn and find myself face-to-face with a man in an impeccably cut suit, dark hair, mid-thirties, the kind of easy confidence that comes from being the wealthiest person in most rooms.
He offers his hand. “We met on Halloween, Aaron Huxley.”
“Hi,” I say, shaking his hand carefully. “Nice to see you again.”
“Likewise. I’ve been hoping to run into you again.
I was talking to some of my fellow Execs about you.
They reminded me that we fund a lot of the mobile vet programs and livestock welfare initiatives in the valley.
” His smile softens. “You’ve done some incredible work on your own, but we think you could do so much more if you worked with us. ”
“Oh.” I blink.
He chuckles. “We were hoping you might be interested in expanding your work. We’d love to loop you in more formally. Our ranch initiative could use someone who actually understands animals and not just spreadsheets.”
Normally, this is the kind of conversation that would light me up. Live-in-the-barn, sleep-in-the-truck, Tessa would be buzzing. But tonight, my brain feels like it’s wading through mud.
“That’s… kind,” I say. “It’s been busy. I haven’t had much time to think bigger than the next call.”
“Well, that's where we can help,” He taps his phone onto mine with a quick gesture, transferring his contact information. “Consider this selfish. Good people are hard to find. You seem like one of them.” His gaze flicks over the room, something dry in his tone. “Too good for them, honestly.”
I frown. “Them?”
He opens his mouth, then glances behind me. His expression shifts, tightening around the edges. “Looks like someone’s waiting.”
I follow his gaze, and I see Nate at the edge of a group now, jaw set, staring straight at us.
Beside me, someone touches my elbow. I look up to find Erik, already dressed down in an undone bowtie and a knowing look.
“Sorry to steal her,” he says easily to Aaron. “Captain’s been pacing a groove in the floor. You ready, Tessa?”
“I... yeah.” I tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious. “It was nice talking to you again.”
“Likewise,” Aaron says. “Don’t let them eat you alive.”
His words trail behind us as Anders gently steers me toward Nate.
“What does that mean?” I murmur.
Anders exhales through his nose, like he’s debating how honest to be. “That guy? Who knows what he is up to? He’s the one Brielle left Nate for.”
The floor tilts for a second. Is that what all this has been about?
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage.
Erik shoots me a sideways look. “Just… keep your head up, okay? You’re not crazy if this feels like a lot.”
Before I can unpack that, we’re there. Nate steps toward me, eyes raking over my dress, my hair, every carefully constructed bit of me.
“Holy fuck, Red,” he breathes. “You look…”
He doesn’t finish. He grabs me, one hand at my waist, the other cupping my jaw, and kisses me. It’s not gentle. It’s not the soft, I-missed-you kind of kiss he gives me when I show up at his place in scrubs and messy hair.
It’s hungry. Possessive. A little messy around the edges.
His fingers press into my hip, just shy of painful.
I can taste alcohol on his tongue. There’s a roar in my ears that might be the band or might be the blood rushing in my head.
I kiss him back, because I love him, because my body responds even when my brain is scrambling.
When he finally pulls back, my lips feel swollen.
The room feels brighter, louder. I swear I hear a chuckled, "Well that wasn’t wholesome.
" But I am so focused on Nate, I ignore it.
“There she is,” he murmurs against my mouth, hand sliding lower. “My good luck charm.”
I clear my throat, cheeks burning when I notice a few phones pointed our way. “You’re… drunk.”
“Buzzed,” he corrects, grinning. “I’m allowed to celebrate once in a while, aren’t I... Especially when I have the most beautiful woman in the room on my arm.”
The compliment feels wrong. Too much like a line rehearsed or like a man trying to convince himself of something. His hand dips, fingers splaying over my ass in a way that makes me jerk.
“Nate.” I grab his wrist, forcing a laugh. “We’re in public.”
He leans in, voice low and hot against my ear. “That’s kind of the point.”
Something in my stomach twists.
We make the rounds. Or rather, he does, with me in orbit. Every few steps, someone stops him, clapping his shoulder, clinking glasses.
PR reps beam when they see us. “You two look incredible. The fans are going to go insane over these photos.”
Box holders shake his hand, then mine. “Lucky guy,” one of them jokes, eyes lingering a second too long on my neckline. “You clean up nice, sweetheart.”
I push the anxious bubble of nausea down, and I smile until my face hurts. I don’t drink. I nurse a single glass of sparkling water, my mouth dry and metallic from the long day and the makeup and the bright lights making me hot. My feet scream in the heels. My head pulses.
“Hey,” I whisper at one point, tugging at Nate’s sleeve while he listens to some long-winded story from the GM. “How long do we have to stay? I think I’m hitting my limit.”
He glances down at me, irritation flashing too fast for him to hide. “You just got here.”
“It’s been almost two hours,” I say softly. “You promised we could sneak out early, remember? I’m really not feeling great.”
His jaw ticks. “Tessa, come on. It’s one night. You can’t support me for a few hours?”
The words sting, this doesn't feel like my Nate, and I have no idea how to handle him like this. I pull my hand back. “That’s not what I said.”
He exhales through his nose, looking past me at someone waving him over. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Just… give me tonight.”
He’s gone again before I can answer. I stand there, clutch tightening in my hand, feeling more and more like a prop someone forgot to put away.
I feel like I am experiencing whiplash, and my emotions threaten to take me over.
I scan the room looking for anything to pull my attention, maybe someone I can spend time with.
I feel exposed and vulnerable for some reason and need reassurance or comfort.
Near the bar, I spot Aaron and Brielle. They’re mid-argument, Aaron’s shoulders are tight, his expression tired in a way that looks familiar. Brielle has that brittle, perfect look she gets when she smiles too wide, like her face might crack from the effort.
He says something I can’t hear. She rolls her eyes. He shakes his head and walks away, leaving her standing there alone.
She doesn’t watch him go; instead, she watches Nate. The look on her face makes my stomach drop. Possession. Regret. Calculation.
I tell myself I’m being dramatic, reading into things because I’m tired.
Because my brain has turned into a conspiracy theorist to protect my heart.
I turn away, trying to focus on something, anything else.
I don’t see Nate until he’s right in front of me again, moving with a sudden, urgent energy that feels… off.
“There you are,” he says, grabbing my waist. “Come here.”
“Wait, Nat...”
He doesn’t wait. He kisses me again, hard, his hand sliding down to grab a handful of my ass, dress riding up dangerously. I yelp against his mouth, fingers digging into his shoulders to keep from tipping over in the heels.
Somewhere in the blur, I hear a chorus of whoops, a flash of cameras, a delighted voice saying, “Oh my god, perfect.”