Page 198 of Play Dirty

To finally belong.

The revelry rolled on for a long time before it eventually slowed down. At some point, the edges softened. The noise blurred into something warmer, easier, and the sharp edge of unspent adrenaline smoothed into something mellow.

I didn’t realize I’d been pulled toward the back of the house until the music dulled behind us. Ares led the way. Sebastian was right behind him, still grinning, still riding the high he’d been on since the second period.

Grayson walked beside me, close enough to feel. We reached the back porch, where a few guys were already milling around.

It was quieter out here. More contained. Like this was where the real conversations happened.

The truest moments.

Dorian had his hand on the hot house door. He stopped, turned, and looked back at me.

“You ever been in?” he asked.

I almost laughed. It took every ounce of willpower not to glance over at Ares, or Grayson, or Sebastian.

“No,” I lied through my teeth. “It’s player only.”

The group standing around the door looked at each other for a long moment. Caleb. Asher. Zack.

“No, Maxwell,” Dorian shook his head. “It’s team only.”

He swung open the door. A blast of heat flowed out, hitting us like a punch.

“And you’re a Reaver.”

A warm rush flooded my chest, growing into a fierce, aching pride. They were all watching me now. Waiting, but not pushing.

Leaving a space open… just for me.

I looked at the door.

At them.

At everything this had become.

Then I reached down, grabbed one of the towels folded on the bench—

— and stepped forward without hesitation.

~ 57 ~

HAVEN

It didn’t break all at once. That was the strange part.

It started as noise— low-level, in the background, easy to ignore. A mention here. A headline there. A couple of phones buzzing simultaneously across the table while we were halfway through breakfast.

“Yo!” said Zack. “What the hell is this?”

He was the first one to notice. I didn’t look up right away. Something in the tone of his voice — sharp, confused, not joking for once — told me not to.

“What?” Sebastian said, leaning over.

Zack turned his phone around.

“Sentinel goalie’s under review,” he read. “League investigating ‘irregular play patterns.’” He blinked. “What the hell is an ‘irregular play pattern?’”