Jericho and I are sitting side by side in the premium rink-side seats at Madison Square Garden for tonight’s ice hockey game.
Tonight is a battle for the final cup in the championships that will end the season. It’s against the Hawks and the Berserkers.
Luc plays defense for the Hawks and is a force to be reckoned with. I imagine he and his team will win the cup.
We’re here to support him, along with our other friends from high school. They’re pumped, but Jericho and I are like two storm clouds floating together in the sky.
Understandably, Jericho is still riled up about Grandfather’s request.
And I’m still stuck in my feelings about Aurora and the sale of Sunset Cove.
I should be at home, but I’m here out of duty to Luc, as this is the biggest game of his career.
Our trio has always been inseparable. No matter what we’re doing or wherever we are in the world, we always try to be there for each other for these sorts of important events.
Luc flew across the country for my wedding just to watch me say ‘I do’. He left straight after the ceremony to get back in time for a game he was playing that night, so I most definitely owed him my presence on what could be the most important night of his life.
I suppose I’m also here because I’m a little concerned about Jericho. At the moment, I have no idea what he’s going to do, but I know he wants his share of the empire. Which means finding a wife.
Although he hasn’t said anything to me, I think the idea might be harder to wrap around his mind because of whatever dark secrets lie in his past.
Dark secrets he won’t tell me.
The closest thing he’s had to a serious relationship was with a girl back in high school he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. He never spoke about her, not even to tell me her name. I only knew she existed because that’s all he told me. I suspected she might have been linked to his dark secrets because he went through a spell of depression. Every time I’ve tried to ask him about it, he shoots me down.
I just know whatever happened was of the fucked up variety. At the time I was going through my own shit with Giselle. I’d just found out how sick she was, so I might not have been there for Jericho as much as he needed me.
The whistle blows cutting into my unhinged thoughts and the game starts. The crowd goes wild, and the players start the battle for the cup. That’s when my mind checks out and drifts right back to Aurora.
When it comes to her, I’m stuck between the decisions of what I need to do and what I should do.
It’s that fucking gray area again, the intersection between right and wrong. I’ve existed in that sphere for so many years, I should know how to play this game by now, but I don’t. It’s not as simple as selecting one thing or another without repercussions I don’t want.
Time checks out, ticking on and on, and suddenly, the game is over.
The Hawks have won. People are cheering, standing, and screaming. Fans are going wild. Luc is holding the cup, and I missed it all.
I missed whatever he did. I missed whatever his team did. I missed the moment I came to witness.
I glance at Jericho, who’s already looking at me and shaking his head.
He hasn’t said much tonight, but I know his thoughts about me haven’t changed. He still thinks I’m in love with my wife and that I’m living up Grandfather’s ass.
The more time I’ve had to think about his accusations, the more I realize he could be right about both.
The closing ceremony rounds up the night, and we make our way to the locker room area to wait for Luc.
Once he’s finished signing autographs for his admiring fans and puck bunnies, we’re going to the sports bar for a drink with the other guys.
One drink, then I’m heading home.
I need to see Aurora. I don’t want to get back too late and risk finding her asleep again.
I don’t know what I’m going to say or do when I see her, but I have to see her.
Jericho and I stand by a wall with posters of the leading hockey players from both teams who were playing tonight. Fans and puck bunnies have already started to gather down the corridor where Luc and his team are stationed.
As usual, there are a lot, and more filling the space. I just pray this doesn’t take too long. The security here is usually good with setting limits on how many people they allow down here, so here’s hoping that stands tonight.
‘I’m going to head home as soon as I can,’ I tell Jericho when he leans against the wall.
‘I think you should.’ He raises a questioning brow. ‘You haven’t seen Aurora since you’ve been back, have you?’
‘No.’
‘Have you spoken to her?’
‘Not really.’ I rest my back against the space next to him.
‘Is that wise, Knight?’
‘She knows I’ve been in meetings.’
‘Even I know that’s not good enough.’ He chuckles. “But then again, I’m not the one who’s pussy whipped.”
“I’m not fucking pussy whipped.” I frown.
After a beat, an amused expression brightens his face, making him look more like himself, then he takes out a cigarette and lights up even though this is a no-smoking zone.
“How about we see about that?” He glances over my shoulder. ‘But please don’t kill anybody tonight. I think we’re in enough trouble as it is.”
I turn to where Jericho is looking, and my eyes land on Luc standing outside his locker room with a host of puck bunnies gathered together, ready to fall at his feet and worship him.
He smiles and kneels down to sign his name on a leggy platinum blonde wearing a pair of short shorts and a tied-up shirt pushing up her breasts.
But there’s something familiar about that girl.
I take a good look when she turns and see she’s not any old blonde.
She’s mine.
My wife.
My girl.
The sight of her stirs every lust-filled memory I’ve tried to keep at bay and my mind clutters with all sorts of scandalous images of her.
The way she looked when I was buried deep inside her sweet pussy. The way she looked when I brought her to orgasm again and again. The way she looked naked and pressed up against my body as we lay on the beach under the stars that filled the Saint-Tropez sky.
What is Aurora doing here?
And with Luc?
He knows she’s not his to touch, and he definitely knows not to touch what’s mine.
The motherfucker runs his finger over her smooth thigh and holds her in place so he can start scribbling his name on her.
My temper flares like someone added a dose of napalm to my nerves, and I’m moving like a raging bull toward him before the next thought can process in my mind.
“Thank you so much. I’ve never had a professional hockey player sign his name on me before,” Aurora says, giggling, a sound only I should hear in that sassy, sexy tone.
“Anytime, Mrs. G,” Luc replies, looking at her like a gibbering fool, absorbing her beauty. How typical of him, thinking with his dick.
And Mrs. G?
Now that I’ve heard him say that, the fool can’t even use the excuse of not knowing who Aurora is. He couldn’t have tried it anyway because he was at my fucking wedding and watched her take her vows to me. But knowing Luc, he would try anything.
I see red as his wandering eyes drift over her ass when he starts writing his surname.
That’s all he gets to do—start. When I reach him, he notices me just in time to stand and register that it’s me coming for his ass.
I growl as I shove his chest so hard he goes flying back into the lockers behind him, making the ones that aren’t fixed to the wall crash to the ground.
The puck bunnies scatter like mice, and Luc glares at me as if I’m death emerging from the flames of Hell ready to scald the flesh off his body.
We’re both big guys with the same sort of muscle and height. Luc gets into fights all the time on the ice, so he’s used to it, but me… I only do it if I have to or if someone pisses me the fuck off. Like now.
At these times, there’s no reasoning with me, and it doesn’t matter who you are or how experienced you are at beating the shit out of someone. I will be your equal.
“Knight, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Luc shouts, shoving me back when he regains his footing.
“Are you serious?” My voice carries down the hall and probably into the heavens. “How fucking dare you sign your damn name on my wife?” I shove him again, harder, and it’s like we’re in high school again, fighting over shit, except we’re not. This isn’t high school anymore and I might have lost my mind since.
“Goddamn it, Knight, it’s just a fucking signature.”
“I don’t give a shit. You don’t touch my wife. She’s not one of your damn groupies. She’s mine.”
“Knight, stop it.” Aurora grabs my arm with dainty, warm hands and tries to pull me toward her.
I look down at her. When I take in the guilt mingling with the hint of surprise in her bright eyes, I realize why she’s here.
She’s not here for Luc or anybody else. She’s here for me. She would have seen me standing in the hallway with Jericho before she saw Luc, and she would have most definitely known him touching her dressed like that would have made me go batshit crazy.
Regardless, I’m still mad as hell for seeing another man—a man who isn’t me—touch her.
Luc doesn’t come for me again, and I hold off too, knowing my next hit will either cause serious damage to a lot of bones or maybe kill his ass.
“Be grateful we’re friends,” I seethe.
“Yes, friend. Thank God I know you’re fucking crazy.” He smirks. “Knight, it was just a signature, man.”
“I don’t care. Don’t do it again.”
I pull Aurora to me and crouch down to wipe Luc’s name off her leg, but when I try, the ink doesn’t give. There’s not even a smear when I rub my finger hard over her skin.
Permanent ink.
Motherfucker.
I glare back at Luc, who is now holding back a smile. Jericho has joined him, and the two can see what’s happening to me, but I know when they look at me with that sinister humor lining their expressions like the silver on a cloud that they see more than me being pissed over a signature.
They’re watching me unfold with every emotion this woman I’ve claimed has pumped into me, and they know I’m not just fucking pussy whipped.
I straighten, take Aurora’s hand and lead her away. “We’re going home.”
Home, where I can gather myself and lick my wounds in private.
And her.
