Page 155 of Game Misconduct
She gestures beside her. “This is Noelle Jennings. She’s the lead event planner for our holiday toy drive and charity gala in December. She’s here to make magic happen.”
Noelle steps forward, smiling like a damn holiday commercial in heels. “Hi, everyone! Don’t worry—I won’t keep you long. Just know I’ll be coordinating your charity outreach for the next several weeks.”
Riley makes a joke under his breath about ugly sweaters and elf hats. Jace elbows him.
But I barely hear her. Because across the room, Cal’s gone dead quiet. And his eyes? Locked on Noelle like someone just knocked the wind out of him.
Interesting.
Sloane glances at Noelle, then back to the team. “Whatever she needs, you give it to her. No excuses. No ghosting. Or you answer to me.”
The corner of Riley’s mouth twitches. But he doesn’t test her.
She turns slightly, like she’s about to walk out—then stops.
Her eyes find mine.
Just for a second.
Everything freezes.
We don’t speak. We don’t move.
But it hits me like open ice contact.
I see the ache in her chest, the storm behind that smooth exterior. And I wonder if she sees it in me too. The regret. The restraint. The goddamn need.
I want to say something.Anything.
But the moment ends.
She turns away.
“Wait.”
The voice comes from Finn.
He stands slowly, helmet in hand, grin nowhere in sight. “Before we go out there…”
The locker room stills again.
He clears his throat. “I want to say something. To all of you.”
A beat. Then another.
“I know I embarrassed the team this week. I know it wasn’t just a joke or some harmless stunt. It mattered. And it wasn’t okay.”
Riley shifts, but stays quiet. Jace watches him like a hawk.
Finn rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not great at…boundaries. Or thinking ahead. But I want you to know I get it. And I’m gonna be better. For the team. For the front office. For her.”
His eyes flick to Sloane, quick and respectful.
“And if I mess up again?” he adds, mouth tight. “I’ll own it. No excuses.”
Nobody claps. But nobody mocks him, either.
I nod once.
