"They said I needed to be more careful about boundaries. That as a young, attractive woman in a male-dominated field, I had a responsibility to avoid situations that could be misinterpreted."
Dax stands up so fast the equipment trunk scrapes against the concrete floor. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"When I refused to accept that narrative, things got worse. Suddenly my work was being questioned, my methods criticized. Other players started treating me differently."
"They forced you out."
"They made it clear that my continued employment was problematic. The team was heading into playoffs, and they couldn't afford any distractions. I was asked to resign quietly."
"And if you didn't?"
"Then they'd let me go for 'performance issues' and 'unprofessional conduct.' No reference, no confidentiality agreement, and a permanent black mark on my record."
He's pacing now, running both hands through his hair. "So, you took the deal."
"I took the deal." I close my eyes, remembering the humiliation. "The story still leaked. Media painted me as a distraction seeking attention."
"Tessa—"
"It doesn't matter whether it was my fault or not," I interrupt. "What matters is that I can't afford another scandal. I can't afford to be seen as anything other than completely professional."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that whatever happened in Vegas, it can't exist here. Not if I want to keep my job."
He stops pacing and turns to face me. "What if I told you I never said anything to anyone about Vegas?"
"What?"
"I never told anyone about Vegas. Not the guys, not my family, not anyone. As far as the world is concerned, we met this morning."
I stare at him. "Why?"
"Because what happened between us felt too important to turn into locker room talk."
"Dax—"
"I'm not saying we should tell everyone we're married. I'm saying we have options. We can figure this out."
"What options?"
"Option one: we pretend we don't know each other. Act like complete strangers and hope nobody notices the way we look at each other."
"How do we look at each other?"
He gives me a look that makes heat pool low in my belly. "Like we know exactly what the other person looks like naked."
"Option two?" I ask, ignoring the way my pulse kicks up.
"We get an annulment and I request a trade to another team."
"You'd do that?"
"If it meant protecting your career? Yeah."
The fact that he'd even consider it makes my chest tight. "Is there an option three?"
"We keep the marriage secret while we pursue the annulment. Act professional during work hours, handle the legal stuff quietly. Nevada has a thirty-day waiting period, so we've got time."