As soon as I get Indy back to her room with a glass of water and some Advil on her side table, I sneak back downstairs to meet Zanders on the beach. His overpriced shoes hang in his hand, and the bottom of
his lightweight pants are cuffed to keep from dragging in the sand.
Thankfully, the shoreline is deserted this time of the night, allowing us some rare privacy outside of his penthouse. The only lights are those coming from the oceanfront hotels, but they’re not bright enough to illuminate the beach.
Carrying my sandals in one hand, I place my other in Zanders’.
“Let’s go farther away,” he suggests as I follow, my toes sinking into the sand.
The ocean breeze is perfectly cool, taking an edge off the Florida humidity.
“I can’t believe I spilled everything at the bar.” Zanders shakes his head. “I got frustrated, and I’m just tired of people not knowing about you.”
I swing my hand over, holding his forearm while my other fingers intertwine with his. “That wasn’t ideal, but I get it. You’ve got a lot of pressure on you to be someone you don’t want to be. Do you think the team will stay quiet?”
“They’re mostly afraid of me, so yeah, I think they will be.”
He squeezes my hand in his as we continue to walk down the empty beach, farther away from the lineup of hotels.
“Are you still okay with it? Us being a secret?” He looks down at me, hazel eyes full of concern.
“No,” I tell him honestly. “But this is what has to happen for now. I need my job, but more importantly than that, you need to get re-signed.”
“I called my PR team while you were upstairs. Just in case anyone else heard anything at the bar that could end up online. I also told them I was the one who punched Brett, so if that comes up, Ryan’s shiny image should stay perfectly intact.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He pops his shoulders. “Kind of a win-win. It pushes forward the narrative Rich is trying to sell and keeps Ryan from looking like a bad guy. Plus, it probably makes my girlfriend swoon that I’m protecting her brother.”
I knock my hip into his thigh. “It does.”
“This spot looks good.” Zanders tosses his shoes to the side.
He takes a seat, legs spread wide with his hand reaching out, asking for me to sit.
“Look at you, sitting your ass in the sand and not complaining about dry-cleaning.”
His chest vibrates in a laugh against my back as I relax between his legs. “I’ve recently learned that sometimes the clothes don’t matter all that much. Just the memories you make in them.”
“Sounds like something an incredibly bright and wise woman would say.”
“She’s all right.”
Zanders’ arms snake around my shoulders, holding me to him, his warm lips working their way up my neck and across my jaw. I melt into him as the ocean waves crash along the bank, filling the silence around us.
“I miss Rosie,” he whines against my skin.
Keeping my lips pressed together, I try to suppress my smile. Rosie is exactly what Zanders needed, whether or not he realized it. She’s become his partner, always at his side and willingly giving him the unconditional love he’s not great at asking for but needs.
She’s a good reminder that there’s someone who needs him, someone who relies on him. And she’s a reason for him to miss home. Zanders might not have realized it, but seeing his best friends build a family around him, even though they always include him, probably left him wanting his own connection to Chicago. And now he has one.
“Did you get any pictures today?”
“Yes.” He beams. “Do you want to see?” But he’s already got his phone unlocked and scrolling before I can respond.
His chin rests on my shoulder, and even though I can’t see his smile, I can picture it perfectly as his thumb swipes, showing off today’s photos of his black and tan girl.
His poor dog-sitter was bombarded with multiple messages a day during Zanders’ first few road trips as Rosie’s owner. Eventually, they compromised that at least one picture a day would assure the overprotective dog dad that his girl was in good hands.
Did I ever think I would be looking at pictures of Rosie sprawled out on a luxurious dog bed or sunbathing on a chaise lounge while her overly expensive dog collar shines in the sun? No. Not in a million years. Especially since she spent an entire year at SDOC, but that intimidating girl is as sweet as can be, and it just took an equally intimidating boy to see it.
“I still can’t believe you got her that collar.”
“She’s got a chain just like her dad,” he boasts before spinning one of the rings on my fingers. “All my girls got some drip.”
I hold his tattooed hand in mine. “All but you and this pinky.”
“This is my favorite one, Stevie girl.” He allows me to spin the ring that’s lost all its shine. “Because it was yours, and you’re my favorite.”
His phone begins to ring in his grasp right there in front of me, his agent’s name plastered across the screen.
“Fuck,” he sharply exhales before pushing decline. “You can answer. I’ll be quiet.”
“I don’t want to hear it from him right now. He’s either going to berate me for staying out of the public eye the last few months or praise me for getting in a fight I didn’t actually participate in.”
I can sense him staring at his phone from behind me, expecting it to ring again. And when Rich’s name fills the screen once more, Zanders declines it without hesitation, tucking his phone away.
“Get naked.”
“What?” I ask in shock, head snapping back to his.
“Get naked. Or at least get down to your bra and underwear.” I pause, not saying a word, sitting in confusion.
“If you’re telling me you’re not wearing any panties right now, we’re about to have a real different conversation where the only words exchanged are ‘good girl’ and ‘daddy.’”
A laugh escapes me. “You wish I’d call you ‘daddy’ in bed.” “Yes, I do.”
“Why am I getting almost naked?”
“Because you’re about to follow me into the Atlantic Ocean.”
He stands from the sand behind me before walking around to face me. There’s not much light, just the slight glow from the moon, but it’s enough to see him remove his shirt and pants before reaching his hand down for me.
“Come on, sweetheart. We both know your favorite thing to do is follow me.”
I playfully roll my eyes, allowing him to pull me to my feet. “I’ve never once followed you. I’m still convinced you had some sort of tracking device on me so that you could show up wherever I was and ruin my night.” My clothes fall onto the sand with his, leaving me in only my bra and underwear.
His warm palms squeeze my ass before traveling south, lifting me and wrapping my legs around his middle. “I think the universe knew we needed to run into each other all those times. We both know you were too blind to notice the devastatingly handsome man in front of you.” He pops a kiss on my lips as he carries me into the ocean. “And I was too blind to know what I needed most in life was right there on my plane.”
“My plane,” I correct.
“Sorry, can’t hear.” He works his mouth against my neck as he steps further into the surprisingly warm ocean.
As the water surrounds us, I begin to feel light in his grasp, floating but still wrapped around his neck and waist as Zanders stands in the shallow end. The moonlight plays off the water’s surface, giving me just enough light to see the beautiful man in front of me.
Silence lingers between us, but not in an awkward way. In a peaceful way. As if we’re both right where we belong, and there are no words needed to fill the void or break the quiet. It’s content.
“Stevie?” Zanders whispers into the silence. “Mm-hmm?”
“You are. You know that, right? You’re what I needed most in life.”
There’s a slight flutter in my chest, and it’s not that he doesn’t say these things often, but sometimes the words hit differently. And when the man who has everything in life, who has every option the world has to offer at
his fingertips, tells you you’re what he needed most, well, it’s hard not to let those words affect you.
Tightening his hold, Zanders presses me into his body, our chests flush. Staring into those hazel eyes, I’m not sure if he understands how much he’s done for me. He’s changed my life because he’s changed my perspective. He reminds me that I’m worthy of being chosen, and having that confidence changes everything. Every situation, every circumstance is viewed through a new lens.
“You’re my best friend,” he continues.
Brows raising, I ask, “Have you broken the news to Maddison yet?”
“Sometimes I think he might like his wife more than me, so he can just deal with it.”
Chuckling, I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. “You’re my best friend too, Zee. Which is a huge development because just six months ago, I convinced myself I hated you.”
“You never hated me.” He brushes me off. “I wanted to.”
“Why?”
Why? Because hating you was a whole lot less scary than acknowledging that one day, I was going to love you.
“Because you were everything I didn’t want. Athlete. Arrogant. Too many options to choose from.”
“Sex-god. Model good looks. Charming as hell,” he continues for me. “And I think I just hated the fact that I didn’t hate anything about you.” “Well, I never hated you, Vee. You drove me fucking nuts, though, I will
say that.”
“Me?” I laugh. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t give in to the bullshit. You didn’t like the persona that everyone else did, and that scared me. The idea that maybe someone wouldn’t buy the lie scared me. Plus, you had a quick comeback for everything I had to say, which was new. You drove me nuts because I didn’t hate you at all. I liked you way too much.”
“I like you way too much, too.”
We spend some time floating in the warm water, and when we make it back to the beach, we find Zanders’ phone flooded with texts and missed calls from his agent. He takes a seat on the sand once again, only wearing
his soaking wet briefs as he begins deleting everything his agent sent without reading a single message or listening to any of the voicemails.
His brows are furrowed in frustration as he stares at his phone, and I don’t know how to help. I don’t know how to ease his worries when I hate Zanders’ media persona as much as he does. If it were up to me, he’d stop it all. He’d let people see the real him and allow them to love him, but I don’t know how this all works. I’m an outsider looking in, and Zanders seems to believe the only way to stay in Chicago is by being this unlovable bad guy, so I’m trying to be supportive regardless of how much it hurts to hear the lies about my favorite person.
I take a seat with him, straddling his lap, forcing him to look at me instead of his phone. His pinched brows begin to soften, the frustration in his eyes melting away before he leans forward, burying his head in my neck.
“I’m so tired of it,” he mumbles against my skin. “Are you ready to stop?”
He nods.
“You have to have faith that Chicago and their fans want you for your skill, regardless of the extra publicity you bring the team.”
“And what if they don’t?”
I cup his cheeks, pulling his face to look at me. “What if they don’t?” “Then I go play somewhere else.”
“How does that make you feel?” “Scared. I don’t want to be alone.” “Would you be alone?”
“Yeah. The Maddisons are all in Chicago. He’s locked in and not going anywhere, maybe ever. Maddison will probably end up retiring a Raptor. I’d be alone.”
That one is a punch to the gut. I was referring to me when I asked if he’d be alone. Because the truth is, I think I’d follow him anywhere if he asked me to. But clearly, that wasn’t his thought process.
His phone rings again, Rich’s name plastered on the screen. “Answer it.”
“I can’t deal with him right now.”
“He’s going to bug you all night if you don’t, and at least right now, I’m here.”
He searches my face for a moment before accepting the phone call.
“Evan Zanders, what the actual fuck is going on?” Rich yells through the speakerphone.
I already didn’t love the idea of this guy, but hearing him talk to my boyfriend this way confirms my suspicions that he’s an absolute piece of shit.
“Hey, Rich.”
“Can you tell me why our PR team is scouring the internet right now, taking down multiple allegations of you having a girlfriend?”
Shit. Clearly, more than just our group heard Zanders at the bar.
The frustration is back on Zanders’ face, so without thinking, I bracket his cheeks and bring his mouth to mine. His full lips smile into our kiss as his agent continues to attack him on the phone.
“Do you have a fucking girlfriend, Zanders? Is that what’s going on with you?”
He continues to kiss me, his mouth too occupied to answer as he pulls my body into his, rolling my hips against him. Thanks to our thoroughly wet and almost naked bodies, I can feel him quickly growing beneath me. He flips us over, my back to the sand as he grinds his body on mine, hitting my sensitive nerves at just the right spot.
My back arches as an accidental whimper slips from my throat. I quickly slap a hand over my mouth, my eyes widening in horror, hoping his agent didn’t hear me.
Zanders silently laughs as he rolls his body onto mine again. “Those little noises drive me fucking crazy,” he whispers before his teeth lightly sink into my shoulder.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Absolutely not,” Zanders lies, his cheeky smile hidden against the skin of my neck as he works his hot mouth down my throat. “No girlfriend. No way.”
“Then why tonight of all nights is that being plastered online?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, Rich. If you’re so concerned with my personal life, you can deal with it.”
He goes right back to kissing my body and working me up, his hot mouth teasing the skin of my chest as his lips move south.
“Maybe I should let the rumors spread. Maybe then you’ll see what kind of damage you’re doing to the image we’ve worked so hard on creating.
Maybe then you’ll understand what I’ve been trying to warn you about all season.”
Zanders pauses right above my belly button. “Rich, I don’t give a shit anymore.”
“I’m doing this for you, Zanders! Your paychecks are the size they are because of what you and Maddison can offer Chicago other than just your talent on the ice. They’re paying for the whole package! They’re paying for the Maddison and EZ contrasting duo bullshit. So why the fuck would you risk that all in a re-signing year?”
“I highly doubt that Chicago won’t re-sign me just because their organization isn’t plastered in the headlines along with my name.”
That’s right. That’s my guy.
His fingers slip into the sides of my panties.
“Oh, really?” Rich lets out an evil laugh. “Then why haven’t I heard a single word about a new contract from Chicago when the season is almost over?”
That causes Zanders to pause, pulling his hands away from me. He sits up straight, grabbing his phone and bringing it closer to his ear.
“Wait. What?”
“I warned you,” Rich continues. “I told you that Chicago wanted their resident bad guy, and this year you’ve done a complete one-eighty. I’m not surprised in the slightest that they haven’t reached out.”
Zanders’ mouth falls open in shock, his eyes dull and blank.
“I fucking told you, Zanders. Now I need to put in some work and figure out our options.”
His agent hangs up the phone with that.
Any joy or life that was in Zanders tonight is now gone as he sits in shocked silence. The moonlight allows me to see his chest rapidly rise with anxious breaths as the reality of his biggest fear covers his face.
“Zee—”
“We should go,” he quickly says. “You should get back to your room before we get caught. This was reckless, being out here in public.”
He stands from the sand, unable to make eye contact as he redresses.
I can physically feel the distance he’s creating, and I don’t know how to stop it or ease his fears when the reality is, he may have just lost his contract. How do I ease that worry? I can’t. Not when I’m the reason it’s happening.
Zanders stays a block away as he watches me walk into the lobby of my hotel, my clothes and hair still wet from our dip in the ocean.
The quick walk to the elevator is a blur as my chest fills with worry and my mind clouds with fear. Fear for Zanders’ career. Fear of the unknown of what that means for us.
“Stevie?”
My head snaps around as I stand outside the elevator, finding Tara sitting on the couch in the lobby, one leg crossed over the other, her hands in her lap.
“Why are your clothes wet?”
I can feel the blood draining from my face, caught in the moment. Thank God that Zanders is out of sight, but Tara’s suspicious stare tells me she knows something is up.
“I took a dip in the ocean.” Not a lie.
“By yourself?”
“Yes,” I answer much too quickly. “The water felt nice. You should give it a try.”
She stays silent as she studies me, and thankfully no more words can be exchanged because the elevator dings on the lobby floor.
“Have a good night.” My voice is too high, and my tone is too sweet, but it doesn’t work to ease the tension between us.
“Mm-hmm,” she suspiciously hums as I step into the elevator.
