Page 57 of Trade It All

Jake just laughs, clapping the glass once like that’s somehow encouragement. “Let them have it,” he says. “We’ll work them later.”

I don’t respond right away. Because I’m not watching them anymore. I’m watching her. The way she moves with the camera like it’s second nature, like she’s not even thinking about what she’s capturing because she already knows exactly what she wants. The way she steps just enough to the side when Luka nearly takes out Grady, adjusting without missing a second of footage. She’s locked in. Focused. Exactly where she belongs.

And for a second—just a second—I let myself imagine what it would look like if I didn’t have to stand here pretending I wasn’t watching her like this. If I could walk down there, take her by the hand, pull her into me without thinking about who’s around or what it means. My jaw tightens slightly. Because I want that.More than I should. But not yet. Not until she’s ready. So I stay where I am. Watching. Waiting.

Knowing that the second this shifts— everything else will too.

Chapter 27

Maddie

Somethingshiftedthisweek.

Not just between us.

Inside me.

I used to move through the arena like it was my space—focused on angles, lighting, timing, making sure I caught the moments that mattered without ever becoming part of them. I was always just outside of it, watching through a lens, editing in my head before I even touched my camera.

Now—I find myself watching something else entirely.

Him.

It’s not obvious. I’m careful about that. I know where I’m supposed to stand, how long I’m allowed to look, how to keep everything exactly where it needs to be so no one starts asking questions I’m not ready to answer.

But it happens anyway. My attention drifts. Pulls.

Finds him without me trying.

Dean on the ice isn’t the same as Dean in his kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand, watching me like I’m something he still can’t believe is there. He’s not soft here. He’s not quiet. He doesn’t hold himself back.

He commands.

Even when he’s not saying anything.

The guys feel it. You can see it in the way they move, the way they adjust without being told, the way they push harder when his attention shifts toward them. He doesn’t need to raise his voice. Doesn’t need to throw his weight around.

It’s just there. Control. Expectation.

And something underneath it that says he won’t accept anything less.

I catch myself filming him more than I should.

Not intentionally.

At least…that’s what I tell myself.

I pan from Luka to Grady, catching their ridiculous attempt at a dance that’s definitely going to blow up on TikTok the second I post it, but instead of cutting when I should—I hold.

Just a second longer.

Because he’s in the frame.

Standing at the boards, arms crossed, jaw tight like he’s trying not to react to whatever chaos they’re creating on the ice.

It’s subtle. Most people wouldn’t notice. I do.

Because I’ve started noticing everything.