I shook my head, brows folding together. “You… you don’t honestly believe that.” I laughed, sure it was a joke. When she didn’t prod me further, that smile fell, my throat tight. “Tell me you don’t see me that way.”
But she didn’t.
She didn’t answer at all.
Her eyes flickered down to her shoes, and she kept her gaze there as I slowly backed away, releasing her.
This was the persona, the one I played into with everyone else. But with her? I’d let her in. I’d shown her parts of me the rest of the world had never seen before. I was nothing but honest with her, right from the start.
I let her see me.
And yet all she saw was a player.
I nodded. Again and again, laughing a little as I scrubbed a hand over my mouth.
And then I left.
The bathroom, the restaurant, and her.
No One But Me
Maven
I bailed on my date before he had the chance to order dessert.
My emotions were so tangled up I could barely hold down what I had eaten, let alone consume anything more. So, with a polite kiss on the cheek and a hug, I parted ways with Damon and headed home.
Home.
That made me laugh.
The fully furnished condo I was staying in with giant windows, a sweeping city landscape, and a bed far too big for only me could hardly be considered home. It was my clothes in the provided dresser, and my toiletries in the bathroom, and my usual food in the fridge. But it wasn’t my small bungalow near the beach. It wasn’t my garden or my macramé wall art or my compost ready to be put to good use.
Still, it did bring me a small comfort, and I sighed when I kicked my heels off once I was inside.
I poured a glass of wine, which I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t regret in the morning. We had a game the next day, and that meant I’d be up early reporting on all of it. My head was already pounding from the night’s events.
But not as much as my heart.
What was even happening?
I sank into one of the leather armchairs in my living room, crossing my legs and attempting to relax. But I didn’t sit there for more than sixty seconds before my thoughts started whirring, and I couldn’t make sense of a single one of them.
I wanted to feel victorious, to bask in the glow of having succeeded in what I’d had planned for the evening.
But the look on Vince’s face, the way he’d tongued his cheek and nodded like I’d disappointed him…
It left me feeling sick.
Before I knew it, I was up and out of the room, out of my new home, taking the elevator up a few floors and walking barefoot down the hall to Vince’s door.
I knocked hard three times, knocking again when he didn’t immediately answer. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I didn’t know what I would say. Did I still want to fight? Did I want to apologize?
Did I want to fuck?
I knocked again.
When he didn’t answer, and it was suspiciously quiet inside, my heart leapt into my throat. I immediately wondered if he’d gone out, found someone, and gone home with her.
Then, I immediately chastised myself for caring, because the whole point of tonight was to cement how not his I was, and yet…
“He’s at the gym.”
I jumped at the unexpected voice, a little scream slipping from my lips. When I turned and found Jaxson at the opposite end of the hall, I sighed.
“Jesus, you scared me. You live here, too?”
“Nah, just dropped something off at Carter’s,” he explained. Then, he repeated his earlier sentiment. “Vince went to the gym, the team one at the arena. Third floor.”
I nodded, swallowing. “Is he okay?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?”
Jaxson arched a brow, giving me a pointed look like he wanted me to confess something. When I didn’t, he saluted me before disappearing inside the elevator.
I still didn’t know what I was doing as I went back to my place, threw on a pair of sneakers, and headed for the lobby. Those Nikes looked ridiculous with the dress I was wearing and my full face of makeup, hair blown out and styled, but I didn’t care.
I also wasn’t thinking straight, as evident by the fact that I was on my way to the arena in the middle of the night to find the guy I had worked so hard to get off my ass in the first place.
The walk was quick, the arena just a couple blocks from the condominium. It was dark and quiet at the arena when I arrived, and I was surprised when the key card they’d given me allowed me access in at all. It was almost eerie, walking through there with just a few lights on. There was someone cleaning the floors, and they nodded at me as I passed, but didn’t bother to ask who I was or why I was there. I guess they assumed that if I had a key to get in, it was fine.
My hands shook as I took the elevator up to the third floor, which was where the executive suite was. I wandered around a bit aimlessly before I finally made my way to the team gym, and when I did, I stopped, watching Vince through the window.
He was the only one in there. Hell, we had to be two of only a handful of people here at this hour. There were no concerts tonight, no events at all, and it was damn near midnight.
For a moment, I let myself watch him, taking in the gleaming muscles of his back as he pedaled on the bike. His powerful thighs worked as hard as they did on the ice, his arms flexing where they held the handlebars. He was an absolute machine — steadfast and focused.
He was dripping in sweat, watching himself in the mirror like he hated the person he saw.
Then, those eyes flicked to me.
I swallowed, using my key card and again surprised that it granted me access to join him. He didn’t slow his pace, though. Just kept his eyes on the mirror and pedaled even faster.
He wasn’t wearing headphones, and the gym was completely quiet, save for the sound of his labored breaths and the whir of the bike.
“I didn’t know the team gym was open twenty-four seven,” I said in way of greeting, folding my arms and looking around at all the equipment. I remembered spending his first day off here, watching him go through his routine with the rest of the guys before working on recovery.
Vince ignored me.
“I’m surprised to find you here, especially the night before a game,” I continued. “Figured you’d be resting.”
His watch made a buzzing noise, and he slowed his pace, sitting upright and hitting a button on the side of it. Then, he grabbed the white towel hanging over the bars and mopped the sweat off his face.
He still didn’t say a word.
I moved closer. “Look, about earlier…” I paused, because I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. “I… I’m sorry, okay? If I…” I laughed a little before finishing that sentence with hurt your feelings, because I was certain Vince Tanev didn’t have the capability of having his feelings hurt.
He slowed all the way to a stop, hopping off the bike and draping the white towel around his neck. He grabbed a wipe next, cleaning the bike seat.
Then, he strode right past me on the way toward the exit.
A voice in the back of my mind told me I should apologize. No, it urged me to grovel, to admit I was wrong and immature for playing whatever stupid game I had been playing at the restaurant. I shouldn’t have said what I’d said.
But I did, because I had to. I needed to. It was the only way to protect myself.