Page 116 of Beautiful Collide

Aiden sprays champagne onto Mason, who retaliates by dumping a cooler of ice water over him.

I shake off the water clinging to my hair and look up. Dane leans against the wall, shaking his head with a rare smile.

“You’re welcome, boys,” I call out, smirking as I peel off my gloves.

Mason rolls his eyes, grinning. “Oh, we’re supposed to thank you for doing your job now?”

Aiden laughs, slapping me on the back. “Let him take the win. The guy’s been on fire all night.”

“Damn right,” I say.

Dane snorts. “You’re unbearable when you’re like this.”

“Yet,” I reply, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it, “you love me anyway.”

Everyone loses their shit.

The guys roar with laughter, and even though I should be celebrating, I can’t help but wonder where Molly is.

It’s a compulsion.

The need to seek her out is all-consuming. I try to stop myself, but I can’t.

When did I become so obsessed with her?

After the charity event?

Dinner with my family?

Most likely, it’s everything in between. All the little moments.

In the past, I would have ignored this voice telling me to go find her, but I can’t stop myself any longer. I don’t know what’s happening to me.

I don’t recognize this version of me.

I step outside the locker room, not able to hold back another second. It’s much quieter out here. Everyone is too busy celebrating inside.

A small crowd has formed, but it’s nothing like what’s going on inside. I start to make my way through the people milling about.

Luckily, no one stops me as I head to seek her out. I find her relatively fast. She’s standing at the far end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone.

“Anything interesting on that thing?” I ask once I’m near.

She doesn’t look up, but her lip twitches. “Just some story about a hotshot scoring a goal.”

“Oh, really?” I can’t help the cocky grin pulling at the edges of my lips. Iama hotshot. Glad she knows it. “And who is this hotshot?”

“No one you know, Wilde.”

Although her words are sarcastic, there’s no hate in her voice. Unlike back then, her barbs are light and airy.

I don’t answer.

Instead, I take her wrist and gently tug her down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of the media and staff. I don’t need anotherRedville Postheadline accusing me of debauchery.

“What are you doing?” Molly stumbles slightly as she tries to keep up with me. “Where are we going? Someone might see us.”

“No one’s looking, Hex.”

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