Page 70 of Match Penalty

“Not without this,” I say, leaning in for one last kiss. It’s slower this time, less urgent but no less intense. When I finally pull back, her eyes are shining.

A sharp knock on the door jerks us both out of the moment, and I swear under my breath. Cammy stifles a laugh, her face buried in my neck as I steady her back on her feet.

“Dumont, you’ve got media waiting!” A muffled voice calls from the hallway.

“Be right there!” I shout back, my voice rougher than I’d like. Turning to Cammy, I brush a thumb over her flushed cheek. “Give me fifteen minutes to answer questions?”

She nods, her eyes still dazed. “I’ll hold you to it.”

As we step out of the closet, back into the chaos of the arena, I feel her hand slip into mine for the briefest second before she lets go. It’s enough to keep me grounded, to remind me that this isn’t just a fleeting moment.

It’s the start of something bigger. And I’m not letting it slip away again.

The post-game media session is a whirlwind, as always. Cameras flash, reporters fire off questions, and I give the same canned answers I’ve rehearsed a hundred times.

“How does it feel to get your first win as a Hawkeyes, JP?”

“Great. The team played hard, and it’s a privilege to be here.”

“What does this win mean for your comeback?”

“Every game is important. I’m just taking it one at a time.”

When it’s finally over, I bolt for the locker room to change into jeans, desperate to get out of here and start the next phase of my plan. Dinner with Cammy.

Because tonight, Cammy said yes.

And that's better than any shutout.

Chapter Twenty

JP

This win feels different than any post-game I ever experienced before the Hawkeyes, mostly because I’m strolling into a team celebration with Cammy's hand in mine, her smile brighter than I’ve ever seen it. The team's already here—Hunter, Trey, Wolf and Olsen are setting up a game of pool, Aleksi is trying to impress Kendall at the dartboard, Slade's holding court with Coach Haynes at one of the largest tables that Oakley reserves for the team on home game nights, while Scottie and Luka carry back another round for the guys.

My hand rests low on Cammy's back as I guide her to the table, pulling out a chair for her beside Aria. She sits, shooting me an appreciative smile, and I press a quick kiss to the top of her head before straightening up.

"What do you want to drink?" I ask her, leaning in close to hear her over the crowd.

"White wine, please," she says, her eyes sparkling.

"Coming right up." I give her a wink before heading to the bar

I walk up to an open spot, bellying up to the bar next to Aleksi. I feel Aleksi’s hand slap my back when he sees me.

"You finally got the girl, huh?" Aleksi teases, his grin wide. "About time."

"Let’s just hope I can keep her," I reply, half-joking but feeling the weight of those words as I glance back at her. She’s laughing at something Aria said, her whole face lit up. She’s happy, and I hope that I’m a part of that.

The moment shifts as I turn back to the bar and catch Seven’s eyes from across the room. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but far from happy, a pool cue in his hand. I’ve gotten used to his quiet disapproval, but tonight it feels sharper, like a threat.

He saw us come in—of course he did, but I won’t hide it. If he wants to bench me, then he’ll bench me.

At the bar, Oakley greets me with a nod. "Nice game, JP."

"Thanks," I say, sliding my card across the counter. "A beer for me, white wine for her. Merci."

As Oakley grabs the glasses, I feel a hand clap my shoulder. Turning, I’m met with a wide grin. "JP Dumont, you magnificent bastard!"

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