Grizz
The moment the final horn sounds, the scene on the ice explodes into joyous noise. Fans pound the glass and music blasts through the arena speakers, all part of the electric post-win rush that makes hockey the best sport in the world.
In the locker room, guys are ripping off helmets, bumping gloves, yelling across stalls as tape balls fly. This chaos is usually my favorite noise.
But tonight it just feels loud.
I grunt, pulling off my jersey. “I see everyone shit themselves when I touch the puck.”
He grins. “Modesty looks good on you.”
I shove him lightly with my elbow, but my mind’s already drifting toward a suite four levels up and a pair of sea-blue eyes I could feel on me even when I wasn’t looking.
I towel off, strip out of my gear, and hit the showers. I’m dressed in street clothes before half the team has even found their boxers. I need out of this locker room, so I can escape this eerie feeling crawling up my insides.
As soon as I shove my hair into place, a group of us heads toward the player exit—a line of suits, cologne, and unparalleled swagger.
Everyone’s pumped because Julian is hosting a celebration dinner at Onyx.
It’s exactly the type of restaurant normal people book three months out, but the kind where Julian writes a check so he can walk in without a reservation.
For all I know, there’s a good chance he owns the place.
Outside, Manhattan is its usual shit show, horns blaring, people spilling out of bars wearing Vipers jerseys. A couple fans shout my name as I step onto the sidewalk. I lift a hand in acknowledgement but not much more.
Tanner gives me a sideways look as we depart. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
It’s a lie and he knows it, but he lets it go.
A convoy of black Escalades is parked at the curb, engines purring and ready to transport us. The first group piles in, and twenty minutes later, we pull up to Onyx. It’s truly the jewel of Tribeca with floor-to-ceiling windows, black stone exterior and a backlit bar.
The restaurant is bumping with low lighting and bursting with the scent of pepper, seared meat, and expensive Merlots. Half the place is already cleared for the team—private dining area cordoned off with velvet rope and staff standing at attention.
“VIPs in the back,” Tanner announces, tossing his jacket at a host.
I shake my head, half amused, half wanting to strangle him. Oh, Tanner.
As I step into the restaurant, I see her, my eyes drawn on instinct.
Daisy stands there looking more beautiful than ever, but what really catches me by surprise is that she’s not alone. I’m trying to figure out who the guy is she’s talking to.
He’s laughing, some easy, familiar sound, leaning slightly toward her as he hands off her coat to the hostess. His hand touches her back, light, casual, but I feel it straight away. Daisy laughs at whatever he says, and she does it in such a way that I can tell they’re close.
“You okay?” Tanner asks, appearing at my shoulder, following my stare.
“Fine.” A vein throbs at my temple.
Tanner’s eyes flick between the duo and me, and his eyebrows rise slowly. “Oooh. Interesting.”
“Shut up,” I snarl.
“Looks like your girl’s got options.”
“She’s not my girl.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even tag them as a lie.
“Mmm.” The skepticism rings loud.
The guy in question leans down and whispers in Daisy’s ear. She tilts her head toward him, smiling, and brushes his arm lightly, in a way I can tell she’s done many times before. It’s so natural, almost effortless, and that tiny movement detonates me.
“This is fucking stupid,” I mutter.
Tanner bites back a grin. “Jealous much?”
I turn and glare at him so hard he physically leans away. “Okay, okay,” he says, hands up. “Just observing.”
“Observe something else,” I warn, and then I’m walking somewhere, anywhere that might distract me. My strides are long enough that Tanner has to jog to keep up.
But everywhere I walk in this restaurant, I can see her in the corner of my eye with that fucking guy attached to her hip.
I’m keenly aware of the way she moves and the way she listens to him so intently.
What’s worse is the way this asshole looks at her with a sense of familiarity that sets my teeth on edge.
A muscle twitches in my mouth with the beat of my pulse, which is running hot as the fury mounts.
Eventually, the rest of the team filters in, dispersing toward the private dining area. Daisy doesn’t see me yet—or maybe she does and she’s ignoring me. I can’t tell which one pisses me off more.
I’m painfully aware of the way jealousy coils within me, a feeling I’ve never experienced once in my entire life.
No woman has ever been worth the emotion.
But now I feel ready to snap and I’m barely hanging on to my control.
This night is going to be a goddamn problem and I’m thinking, it might be best if I just stay away from her.
But then fate intervenes and her eyes land on me, delight sparkling within. Her face softens. Not enough to make me feel better, but enough to make the turmoil inside me flare warm and uneasy. She approaches, a smile on her face, and the man follows. My hands involuntarily curl into fists.
Daisy reaches me… stops toe to toe, but she doesn’t touch me. She can’t hug me, kiss me or otherwise indicate that she and I are fucking. But I can see it in her eyes. She’s happy to see me and that’s confusing since she seemed to only have eyes for this guy not thirty seconds ago.
She clears her throat. “Grizz… this is Elias Reed, my dearest friend in the world.”
Friend? “You don’t say?”
She nods with a smile, loops her arm through his to draw him closer. “We met freshman year at Duke.”
I nod once, stiff. I wait for him to stick his hand out for me to shake, and I truly hope he does so I can crush his fingers. Instead, he merely raises his brows in Daisy’s direction. “He’s charming in person.”
Daisy shoots him a look—Don’t start—but he ignores it, instead beaming a confident smile my way. I want to knock his teeth down his throat.
“So,” I say, folding my arms, “how’d you end up in New York, Elias?”
Daisy jumps in first before he can answer. “Elias is from New York. He’s actually the person who talked me into moving here after undergrad.” Daisy nudges her shoulder against her friend’s. “Best decision I ever made.”
I grit my teeth as he casually drapes his arm over her shoulders, eyes locked onto mine in defiance. “We’re thick as thieves, Daisy and me.”
For a moment, I succumb to the fantasy of ripping off his head, then tossing it over my shoulder so that it rolls underneath a table. But Daisy elbows Elias playfully, getting him to dislodge his arm.
“Elias helped me get my job with the team.”
“Excuse me?”
Elias sips his drink. “Uncle’s the owner. You might’ve heard of him. Julian Langley? He likes to hire people with… potential.”
Daisy smiles, seeming completely oblivious that I don’t like her friend or that he’s yanking my chain. “Elias put in a good word for me.” She beams at him and he smirks at me.
“Uh-huh,” I say.
She finally catches on that something is brewing and her brows knit. “What does that mean?”
“It means… uh-huh,” I reply smoothly.
Understanding dawns in her eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make it sound like—” She stops, breathes, steadies. “Elias and I have known each other forever. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother.”
Brother. Is that where she’s going?
The word hits me where I don’t want it to. But the burning in my chest doesn’t simmer. If anything, it heats up, because all I see is Elias touching her back again. His hand resting casually, intimately, like it’s natural, like this is where it is whenever they’re together as “friends.”
He does it again now—palm brushing the small of her back as someone squeezes behind them. I see fucking stars.
My jaw grinds so hard I feel my molars protest.
“… and then Daisy told me she thought this game was the most exciting display of sports she’s ever seen.”
I try to focus in on what Elias just said, but all I can see is that fucking hand on her lower back.
Daisy flushes and gives a nervous laugh. “I did not phrase it that dramatically.”
My head snaps to her.
She said that.
But not to me.
I feel myself about to explode.
Elias clocks it instantly. His eyes light up. “Relax, big guy,” he says, understanding exactly what he’s doing, even if Daisy doesn’t fully get what’s going on. “We’re just friends.”
And that’s the moment I snap. “I’ll accept that you’re just friends if you accept the fact I’m going to break every bone in your hand if you don’t get it off her.” The restaurant stills around us—or maybe it only feels that way. Daisy stiffens. Elias lifts his brow.
“Well,” Elias says, voice amused, but thankfully for him, his hand falls away from her back. “Someone’s a little proprietary.”
“Grizz,” Daisy whispers, eyes wide. There’s even a hint of empathy in her voice, but it grates on every last nerve in my body. I don’t need her feeling sorry for my big emotions.
I have to get out of here.
I turn and exit the private dining area, past the velvet rope, past the host stand, past the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that reflect my expression back at me, but I’m someone I don’t even recognize at this point. I shove through the door into the whipping New York air.
The chill hits me hard and so do the footsteps behind me.
“Grizz!” Daisy’s voice cuts through the noise of the city.
I don’t slow, lengthening my strides. I hear the click-click of her boots as she tries to catch up.
Surprisingly, she does and grabs my arm. “Stop.”
I turn to face her so fast she takes a step back. “What the hell was that?” she demands.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are, Grizz.” Her voice cracks with emotion, frustration or fear or something that stabs at me in ways I don’t want. “You were angry. Jealous. You stormed out like—”
“I wasn’t jealous.”
“Grizz.”
I look away. “You were hanging all over him.”
A smile graces her lips, eyes soft with understanding, and she lets me have that ludicrous accusation. “I was not hanging all over him.”
“He had his hands all over you,” I mutter. Or is that a pout? Jesus Christ.
“He put his hand on my back because someone bumped me! He’s my best friend! He’s like Tanner is to you.”
“Yeah,” I snap. “Well, Tanner doesn’t touch me that way.”
“You do shower with him after games,” she quips, eyes twinkling.
I almost crack a smile, because she’s right. But I don’t. I’m still pissed and plaster that scowl on my face even harder.
She exhales, leveling a chastising look. “Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
She steps closer. “Grizz… we’re not exclusive. You said this was casual.”
I look at her then and something burns hot in the center of my chest. “I know that,” I say. “I know we’re not.”
She waits. She knows there’s more to say.
“But we’re exclusive now,” I proclaim, chest puffing out a bit.
Her breath catches, eyes rounding with surprise. “You can’t just declare that,” she snaps. “Just because you don’t like that my best friend is a dude, you can’t just change the nature of our relationship.”
“Yes,” I say, stepping closer, “I can.”
“And what does that even mean to you?” she asks, eyes searching mine. “Exclusive how? Exclusive why?”
“Because I don’t want anyone else touching you. I don’t want anyone else making you laugh like that. I don’t want your hands on someone else’s jacket, or someone else’s hands on your back, or—”
“Grizz—”
“I want your hands only on me.”
Silence drops between us and Daisy swallows. “So, you’re saying… you want us to be exclusive for sex.”
The defensive part of me wants to agree. The honest part refuses. “No,” I say quietly. “Not just sex.”
Her eyes soften, like she doesn’t trust what she’s seeing.
I drag a breath through my nose. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I know I don’t want to share you.”
She takes one step forward. Then another.
“So,” she whispers, “exclusive?”
“Exclusive… for everything,” I answer.
She exhales. Then she grabs my jacket and pulls me down into her mouth.
The kiss is nothing like the others in the past. It’s hotter and rawer. Her mouth opens under mine, desperate and relieved and hungry, and I grip her hips hard enough that she gasps.
I walk her backward until she hits the wall of the restaurant’s brick alleyway.
I cage her in with my body and she fists my shirt.
I bite her bottom lip and she moans into my mouth like she can’t hold it back.
Her leg lifts around my waist and I catch it instinctively, pressing closer, swallowing the small sound she makes as our bodies lock together.
There’s no plan or control left anywhere.
Daisy breaks the kiss only when we both need air. Our foreheads rest together, breaths tangled, hearts slamming in unison.
Her voice is barely a whisper. “Grizz…”
“Don’t say anything,” I murmur, brushing my lips against hers again. “Just… stay with me.”
She nods once, a small, shaking motion.
And we kiss again, deeper and more passionate, in the brisk alley behind Onyx, wanting each other like it’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.