Page 180 of Make the Play

Panic claws its way up my throat, and I quickly get dressed, wet hair forgotten.

The front door opens, and Chase walks in like he always does—bag slung over his shoulder, cap turned backwards, sleeves rolled high enough to show the curve of his tattooed bicep.

He drops his hockey bag by the door, kicking it out of the way with that easy post-practice energy clinging to him.

“Hey,” he says, his smile soft when he sees me walking out of the bedroom. “You order dinner or—”

“You didn’t think to check if there were backup cameras?”

He pauses mid-step. “What?”

“The elevator,” I snap. “The one we got stuck in last week. The one where you told me the cameras wouldn’t be working because of the power outage. Guess what I found out today?”

His jaw tightens, cautious now. “Zoe, what are you talking about?”

“Theywereworking. Backup camera system kicked in when the power failed, and it goteverything.”

His eyes widen. “Shit.”

“Oh, you think?”

“Zoe—”

“They called me, the building office. They haven’t sent the footage to the HOA yet because, and I quote, ‘Some of the content appeared personal.’”

I let that hang there, daring him to say something, even though there’s nothing to say. He knows exactly what we did, how feral and reckless and indecent it was.

“This isn’t just embarrassing,” I whisper. “It’severything.My job, my credibility. You know Pulse has a zero-tolerance policy on reputation risk, and now I’m the girl who lied about fake dating a hockey player, moved into his condo, and fucked him in an elevator.”

Chase’s mouth opens, then closes, and he runs a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get the footage. I’ll talk to them.”

I shake my head. “You can’t fix this, Chase.”

“Yes, baby, I can.”

“No, youcan’t! This isn’t a loose mic or a tabloid rumor. This isn’t just aoops, someone caught you with your dick outmoment, this isproof.I’ve worked for years to be taken seriously—by my team, by the board—and now I’m one viral video away from losing all of it.”

I’m pacing now, and my hands won’t stop shaking.

“I know it’s not your fault,” I say, the words tumbling fast now. “I know you didn’t plan this, but we’ve been pretending—pretending—to be fake this entire time, and now there’s proof it’s not. What the hell do you think Pulse and the Storm are gonna say when they find out we’ve been lying to them for months?”

He steps forward. “Zoe—”

“No. You don’t get to pull that calm voice on me right now, you don’t get to stand there pretending you didn’t see this coming. We’ve been playing house in a fucking glass box and acting like we’re still fooling people.”

He’s quiet for a second.

“I was neverfoolinganyone,Zo. I’ve been real about you since day one.”

“Oh my god, you are missing thepoint!”

“No,youare,” he fires back, voice straining to stay level now. “You’re acting as if none of this means anything, like it’s just PR fallout. But it’s not, Zo, this isus. Or at least it is to me, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”

I take another step back, inhaling sharply. “You don’t get to fucking throw that at me right now.”

“Why not?” His voice cracks open, rough around the edges. “Because I’m right? Because I’m finally saying what you don’t wanna hear?”

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