I nod, the lie of our first meeting in the press room still tasting like ash in my mouth. “Yes. We do know each other. What’s her last name?”
“Does Croix know yet?” Tatum asks, her playful expression shifting into something more serious.
I shake my head, the gravity of the mess sinking in. “No. And I will tell him. I have to. But I need to speak to her first. Tatum, you have to understand how impossible this situation is.”
“I do,” she says softly. “But I also know how secrets can ruin a friendship. Especially a friendship like yours and Croix’s.”
“I get it. Truly. And I will tell him,” I insist, my patience wearing thin as the urge to reach out to Aspen grows. “Her name, please? A social media handle? A phone number? Fucking blood type. Anything.”
“Okay! Okay!” Tatum laughs, putting up her hands in surrender. “I’m only sharing this because I know for a fact she wants to talk to you, too.”
She pulls out her phone and taps it against mine, the digital transfer of information chirping with a finality that makes my chest leap.
“Here is her contact information,” Tatum says, her voice dropping into a sharp, warning tone. “But word to the wise, Luca. Start slow. She’s got a lot on her plate right now. You either approach her with absolute certainty, or you don’t approach her at all.”
“Thank you. I understand,” I say, taking the warning to heart.
The hesitation that was eating at me yesterday is gone. As messy as all these complications are, the second I was back in her space, the fog cleared. I want her. I need her. And Iwillfigure this out.
My whole career is built on handling high-pressure plays and finding a way to win when the clock is ticking down. I’m a leader. I was built for this. I can build a life with Aspen and find a way to make things right with Croix. All I need is a plan.
I spend the rest of the evening playing the part of the composed future captain, going for drinks with Croix and therest of the team. I honestly don’t know how I’ve been doing it—laughing at their jokes and dissecting the match as if my personal life isn't an active fucking volcano preparing to blow. Now that I know for certain who Aspen is, and what she still means to me, every look at Croix is like a blade to the gut. The guilt is a constant, gnawing reminder of the line I’m about to cross.
Everything in me wants to pull him aside and lay it all out right now, but I can't. Not yet. I need to know where her head is first. I need to know if that night in Vegas still feels as real to her as it does to me, and if she’s actually willing to risk as much as I am for this. For us.
Finally, the group disperses. The back-slapping ends, and no one else is vying for my attention or hounding me for my predictions for the next match. I walk to my car, barely able to restrain myself from doing what I’ve been aching to do all night.
I pull up her contact. I stare at the blinking cursor for a long minute, my thumb hovering over the glass. Then, I type.
Luca:Hello, Ms. Mysterious.
Chapter Fourteen
The Theft, The Drama + The Drag Queens
Aspen
Three months ago.
I stare at my phone, the screen glowing in the dark of my apartment, realizing I had no idea what to expect for his first move. After the nuclear meltdown in the tunnel and that panicked eye contact, I figured he might wait a few days. Especially after the sheer audacity of him asking if we’d met at an arcade like it was some kind of sick joke. He saw how much I wanted to knuckle him in the nose.
But when Tatum said he’d practically held her hostage for my information, I also thought it might be sooner rather than later.
And here he is.Hello, Ms. Mysterious.
I should be annoyed. I should be drafting a very professional, very stern text about how he’s currently ruining my life and my friendship with Croix. Instead, I’m biting my lip, grinning at the screen like a complete fool.
Aspen:Hey, Chillmonger.
I can’t help the stupid, schoolgirl smile plastered across my face. It’s ridiculous. A few hours ago, I was ready to call the producers and demand an immediate annulment just to escape the stress of knowing whether or not he still wanted me. But now that his name is sitting in my inbox, the irritation is fading into something much more feral. I want to forget the secret, forget the torture of our truth, and just breathe him in.
For a little while.
And as if he’s reading my mind, another bubble pops up.
Luca:Let me see you.
I don’t think. I don’t weigh the consequences or the history I have with Croix. I drop my location and hit send so fast it feels like I’m dreaming.
