Page 145 of Game Misconduct

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I want to argue. To tell him he’s wrong. That it’s not what he thinks.

But the worst part is—he’s not wrong. Not really.

Jace pushes off the wall. “Just be careful, Lasker,” he mutters. “Some lines don’t come with second chances.”

Then he walks away.

And I’m left staring at the empty bench across from mine, my mind spinning with every possibility I thought I had under control.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Sloane

The first thingI notice is the silence.

Not the usual kind—the focused, caffeinated hum of a professional sports franchise spinning up for another day. This is the other kind.

The dangerous kind.

The kind that smells like smoke before the fire even touches your skin.

Tessa’s already standing at my office door when I round the corner.

Still in her coat. Bag slung over one shoulder. Hair pulled back in a severe bun, like she didn’t even pause at her desk.

She holds a tablet in both hands like it’s radioactive.

Not a word. Just lifts it and taps the screen.

The video starts playing before I can ask.

And then I see it.

Finn.

Waving from the back of a fucking Zamboni like he’s in the damn Macy’s Parade. Jersey untucked. Shorts hanging low.

He turns to throw candy—and his waistband catches.

Rips.

And just like that, the entire arena gets a clear full-screen shot of Finn McCade’s ass.

Boxers sliding. Jock strap clinging for dear life. One bounce away from a dick slip and a lawsuit.

My jaw doesn’t clench.

My expression doesn’t change.

Not even a blink.

I reach out, take the tablet from Tessa, and tap to pause the video.

Once is enough.

I hand it back.

“Get rid of that.”

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