Page 108 of The Triple Play

She laughed, full and bright in that way that made my chest ache. “Colton. Seriously.”

“Listen, sweetheart, if you’rethatkeen to ruin a surprise, then I guess I’ll just have to tell you that?—”

“No! No, no, no, I like surprises, please don’t ruin it!”

I smirked. Knew it would work. Cole laughed, able to hear her objection even from a few feet away. “Okay, okay, I won’t ruin it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Can you eat provolone?”

“Yeah, I can eat provolone.”

Chapter39

Xavi

Istood in the shadows of the parking garage, hands tucked into the pockets of my hoodie, pacing slowly across the painted line between two empty spaces a few spots away from my M4. The air was cool for once, but the low drone of the fluorescent lights above was making my palms sweat. It wasn’t enough to beat back the intruding thoughts. Somewhere in the distance, water dripped, echoing through the concrete. The scent of oil, fuel, and damp pavement made my eye twitch.

Annie had kissed my cheek this morning before I’d left for practice, told me she had a good feeling about today. But she didn’t know what I was doing here. I hadn’t told her. Colton’s honesty about us having a surprise for her meant I could turn off my location services without her raising a brow, so she had no idea I was pacing in the parking garage outside of her father’s law firm.

But I wasn’t here for him.

I heard him before I saw him — his loafers clicked against the cement like he had somewhere important to be. Then he came into view.

Neat, polished, wearing a set of dress pants and a button-up shirt, his hair freshly buzzed and his glasses pushed high up on his nose. He moved like nothing had touched him, like he wasn’t dragging a trail of wreckage behind him.

Elliot.

He didn’t notice me at first.

I stepped forward. Deliberate. Quiet.

His eyes finally caught mine across the garage, and his whole posture shifted — it was subtle, barely noticeable, but I caught it. The hesitation, the bracing.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” I said as he got closer, my voice low and even. Controlled, for once.

He blinked at me as he clicked his remote, his car unlocking a few spaces over. “You stalking me now, Moreau?”

“No. I’m finishing this.”

His eyes flicked to the rest of the garage, the emptiness of it, scanning for witnesses. “If you’re here to throw me over the boards again, I think you’ll find there’s no ice?—”

“Shut up.”

He flinched.

I took another step forward, not overly aggressive, not loud, just steady. “I’m not here to beat you to a pulp, as much as I’d like to. You should be happy about that,” I said flatly. “I’m here to talk.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, but I could see a hint of relief in him. He knew he didn’t stand a chance if I threw a fist. “Go ahead, then.”

“You need to forget her. Move the fuck on.”

I saw the twitch in his jaw, his expression souring, twisting in the wrong ways. But he leaned into arrogance instead. “You really think that baby’s yours?”

“No,” I answered, the single word hanging in the air for a second. “Could be Cole’s. Could be Colton’s. Could be mine. It doesn’t matter.”

His composure cracked a little, his mouth tightening, a quick little exhale coming out of his nose.

“She’s ours. You don’t matter to her anymore. Do you understand?” I took another step toward him. “You’re a ghost to her. Worse, at this point. Like a poltergeist or one of those demons in the movies that take, like, four exorcisms to get rid of. You are gum under her shoe that she can’t quite peel off. You’re nothing.”

“She was my girlfriend,” he bit back.

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