Page 131 of Game Misconduct
And that’s when it happens.
The shift I’ve been fighting finally takes hold.
I realize I’m in love with him.
Not just attracted. Not just infatuated.
In love.
It hits with full force, cracking open the hollow space inside my chest where nothing has lived for years. I feel it in every part of me—the weight of it, the terror of it, the inevitability.
And I know.
It can’t work.
We’ve let ourselves blur the lines. We’ve been reckless with our hearts and our reputations.
And now I’m lying here in the wreckage, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart while mine breaks quietly inside my ribs.
He shifts beside me, completely unaware. Still holding me like I’m something precious.
I let my eyes close again, committing the moment to memory.
Because I know what comes next.
The world outside will come for us.
And I’ll be the one who opens the door.
We weren’t careful. Not with each other. Not with the world outside these walls.
And if the world saw us tonight… there will be no taking this back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Maddox
The hotel ceilinghas thirty-six tiny holes in the acoustic tile directly above my bed.
I’ve counted them twice.
Once after we landed, once after the game.
It’s past midnight now, and the room’s too quiet. Too clean. Too cold in a way that has nothing to do with the thermostat.
The blackout curtains don’t block enough city noise. The bed’s too soft. The air smells like lemon disinfectant and recycled air, not bergamot and leather and something sharp like a warning.
Not like her.
I scrub a hand down my face and shift on the mattress, shoulder twinging from the hit I took in the second period.
Doesn’t matter.
The ache I feel isn’t in the muscle.
It’s under the skin.
Between being on the road and sneaking around, I haven’t heard her voice or touched her skin since I kissed her goodbye seventy-two hours ago.
