Page 33 of Triple Power Play 3
His smile widens, and the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement. Rather, he understands her better than I do; theirnicknames hold some deeper meaning I’m unaware of, or he’s ecstatic to hear his name from her mouth.
Whatever Reece is grinning about, it’s enough for Jax to flip me the middle finger as he rounds the front of the vehicle.
I arch a brow. “Is that an offer?”
“It wasn’t aimed at you.” He smirks. “You were just the one staring at me.”
Dick.
I take Aurora’s hand and help her into the backseat, climbing in after. The valet loads their ridiculous amount of luggage and shopping bags into the trunk, and Reece gets behind the wheel.
It’s hard to ignore how much he likes her. Loves her? It’s in the way he refuses to pull away until she’s settled. The way he sneaks glimpses of her in the mirror, though her head rests on my shoulder. The way he plays her favorite pop music—but not too loud, because she gets overwhelmed easily. The way he carefully drives as if he has the most precious cargo on board—which he does, and I’m confident I made the right decision by letting him in.
I peer over at Jax to gauge his thoughts, only to find him already looking at me. Our gazes meet, but before I can read him, he glances away. He rests his head on Aurora’s shoulder and closes his eyes. She runs her fingers up his neck and into his hair, and I kiss her temple. My two favorite things, right here, together.
Nothing is better than this.
The next day, I’m standing behind the player’s bench. It’s a tied game against my former team, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a wreck inside.
Jax doesn’t speak to me. No banter. No borderline flirting. He engages with his teammates and maintains his usual high level of intensity, even after missing a much-needed goal, but he pays little attention to me.
His behavior is no different from any other player, but my heart physically aches. I could use his brand of humor today, along with two more goals.
“O’Reilly, fucking score, will ya?” I shout over the roaring crowd and the blaring music.
He could crack about a dozen sexual innuendos, but he doesn’t. He huddles with his linemates and plans a flawless play, where he executes a fake and passes to Grant, resulting in a goal. Then, he drafts another with an assist from our goalie, Killian, which nobody expected. It’s an impressive performance, one they’ll be replaying onSportsCenterall season long. If he keeps this up, I won’t be able to afford his next contract.
At intermission, we’re up by three, and I slap his helmet in celebration. I get no response. Coming down the tunnel, he laughs and jokes with Grant, and I head into the locker room with my temper focused on a new target.
I know who I’ll trade if I lack the money to keep my star player.
Jax doesn’t need to be distracted by his best friend. In fact, he doesn’t need two best friends.
14
REECE
I bump shoulders with Aurora. “What’s wrong, princess?”
She’s fidgeting in her seat more than usual, crossing and uncrossing her long legs. The team is winning and Jackson is killing it, but as the clock counts down, she grows increasingly anxious.
Perhaps I’m making her uncomfortable. I’ve been careful not to violate any boundaries, though the mere sight of her triggers vivid memories of a dream I can’t erase. Even days later, I swear I could smell her in my bed, feel the phantom weight of her body on mine, hear her soft moans. It drove me fucking mad.
“I didn’t know we’d be sitting up here with the other team.” She lays her hand on her stomach, something she does when nauseated or anxious. “I had the twins find me one of Ethan’s old jerseys. I was planning to surprise him.”
Ethan arranged these seats. We’re in a suite with a handful of Boston fans, sitting outside the box, overlooking the ice. I’ve noticed a few people eyeing us, but no one has approached. Besides, she hasn’t removed her jacket; only the bottom half of the oversized jersey is visible.
“You’re nervous about wearing his New York jersey to a Boston game?”
She has Jackson’s bedazzled name and number on the back of her jacket—it’s clear who she belongs to. I’m not familiar with hockey etiquette, but I’d think being the wife of the visiting team’s captain would be more troubling than sporting the coach’s old jersey.
“Well, I couldn’t wear it to the New York game. I would’ve been cheering for the other team, and it was Jax’s first game back. I thought maybe it’d cheer Ethan up tonight.” She hangs her head. “It was dumb.”
I still don’t understand. “What are you worried about exactly?”
“Boston is his former team, owned by his ex’s family. If someone sees what I’m wearing, he’ll be angry. I won’t see him for days—if he even allows me to travel with him again.” She wraps herself tighter in the jacket. “He doesn’t like attracting attention. It was a stupid idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Is that why Ethan has been staying away from her? Because she attracts too much attention? He’s dating a gorgeous, twenty-two-year-oldSports Illustratedmodel who’s also his star player’s supposed wife. He’s bound to be in the spotlight.
