Page 22

Wyatt

Zane drops me off at home after class so I can change.

I meet him outside fifteen minutes later. He hasn’t told me what we’re doing, only that we’re going on a date. But before we leave, he wants to check in on Myla.

When I step outside, he’s standing in the driveway, his face buried in his phone. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed, his fingers gripping the device like he’s one text away from crushing it. Whatever he’s reading has his entire body wound up like a coil about to snap.

I hesitate for a beat before stepping closer. “Everything okay?”

For a second, I brace myself, worried he’s about to change his mind about our plans. With everything happening—the fight, the looming decision about his suspension, the pressure of their season hanging in the balance—it wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t in the mood for whatever he had planned.

His phone vibrates again. His jaw ticks.

“My dad,” he mutters, the weight behind those two words saying everything.

I don’t need to ask to know exactly what kind of messages are coming through.

James Kinnick has always had impossibly high expectations for his kids. I’ve seen him at countless games, shouting from the sidelines and barking orders like he’s the one wearing a headset. I know how he gets when things don’t go according to his plan. And if I had to guess, he’s been in Zane’s ear all morning, picking apart every bad decision that led him here.

I swallow, watching as Zane pockets his phone like he’s trying to shove away everything his father just said.

“Is he coming back to Braysen soon?” I ask, careful with my tone.

Zane shakes his head. “No, I’m pretty sure he’s staying in Charlotte for work.” A humorless chuckle escapes his throat, but it’s laced with frustration. “Not that it’ll stop him from handling things from a distance. I have no doubt he’s already been on the phone with Coach, trying to clean up my mess before I’ve even had a chance to handle it myself.”

I press my lips together, unsure how to respond. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved at the thought of him pulling some strings to lessen Zane’s punishment, but at the same time, his dad doesn’t do anything without expecting something in return.

The tension rolling off Zane’s body is thick enough to drown in. But when his eyes finally lift to meet mine, something shifts. The tightness in his shoulders loosens as his gaze slowly drags down the length of my body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

It’s the kind of look that makes my pulse quicken and my stomach twist in anticipation.

For a second, I think he’s about to scrap our plans entirely—pull me inside, press me against the nearest surface, and lose himself in something that isn’t expectations and consequences.

He must see the same thought flicker across my face because he smirks, shaking his head like he knows exactly where my mind is going.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, reaching for my hand.

And just like that, the weight of his father, the fight, and the uncertainty of what comes next all fall away. At least for now.

We climb the stairs leading around the back of the property to the deck. Zane slides open the glass door, and the warm glow from the family room spills out onto the porch. Laughter filters through the space, mingling with the faint hum of the TV. Myla and Katie are curled up on the couch, lost in whatever they’re watching. They’re so distracted they don’t even hear us come in.

Until Myla glances up.

She shrieks, jolting upright, her hand flying to her chest. “Goddamn, Zane, ever heard of knocking?” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him, but it’s all playful irritation.

Zane just smirks, but I feel her eyes shift to me—and more importantly, to where Zane is still holding my hand. Her gaze snaps between us, and a slow, knowing grin spreads across her face.

“Oh my God.” She’s on her feet in an instant, her messy bun bouncing on top of her head as she practically launches herself at me, wrapping me in a hug. “Please tell me this is what it looks like.”

Her excited energy is contagious, but I hesitate, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I glance up at Zane, waiting for him to answer. He doesn’t get the chance before Myla starts bouncing in place, then throws an arm around him too, dragging him into a full-blown group hug.

“It’s about damn time you woke the hell up,” she declares, swatting his chest. “How long has this been going on?”

She backs toward the couch, flopping back into her spot, tugging the blanket over her lap like she’s settling in for a juicy story. It’s only then that I fully register Katie is sitting beside her, watching the whole interaction unfold with an amused expression.

Zane leans his weight into one leg, his lips twitching like he’s debating just how much he wants to indulge Myla. “This,” he says, motioning between us, “is still new.”

“We haven’t really told anyone,” I add, my fingers still laced with Zane’s as I glance up at him. “Although Everly and Tate figured it out after the whole jersey thing.”

Zane nods. “And I’m pretty sure Reed and Hayes know, but they haven’t said anything.”

Myla claps her hands together and lets out a giddy little noise. “Well, all I have to say is finally .” Then, with a dramatic wave of her hand, she adds, “I mean, everyone already knew you two were in love. You were just being dumb about it.”

I suck in a sharp breath—and immediately start coughing.

Zane chuckles beside me, shaking his head like he’s been caught in the middle of some elaborate joke. I need water. Now. Turning on my heel, I beeline for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle and taking a long sip to recover from the verbal punch Myla just threw at me.

Zane’s still grinning when I return, propped against the wall with an easy confidence, clearly amused. “Just to set the record straight,” he says, glancing at Myla, “this has only been a thing for a few weeks.”

She just shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah, yeah. But we all know this has been brewing for a lot longer.”

Zane shakes his head, amusement flickering in his eyes before they turn serious. “Anyway, I came in to check on you.” His voice softens slightly. “Seems like you’re doing okay.”

Myla sighs, sinking deeper into the couch. “I told you I was fine the other night, and I meant it. Nothing happened.”

Katie, sitting quietly beside her, shifts, her expression unreadable. There’s something in the way she presses her lips together, but she stays silent.

Zane studies Myla for a second longer, then his gaze flicks to me—and then to Katie. “Have either of you seen or talked to Luca since that night?”

The weight in his question makes my stomach tighten. I thought he was directing it at Myla, but the way his eyes flicker to mine tells me he’s asking us both.

We both shake our heads. “No, and I’m pretty sure I won’t be invited back to another Alpha Nu party after that mess.”

Zane’s jaw tightens. “Like hell you’re stepping foot in that house again.”

The air thickens, tension coiling between us like a storm ready to break. There’s so much left unsaid, lingering beneath the surface, but one thing is clear—Zane isn’t letting this go.

Myla exhales sharply, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it wasn’t a big deal. I swear, like I said, nothing happened.”

Zane’s gaze darkens, his voice firm and unwavering. “I don’t want you talking to him again.”

Myla scoffs, and Zane’s attention snaps to me, his sharp gaze locking me in place. “That goes for you too.”

“All right, whatever you say, Dad,” Myla fires back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, but Zane? His shoulders go rigid, his jaw flexing like he’s biting back whatever reaction threatens to slip through.

I let out a breath, trying to smooth things over. “Nothing happened between us either. Maybe some harmless flirting, like what you saw at the bar, but that’s all it was.”

Zane exhales, tension unwinding from his posture, though his expression remains guarded. If I’d just told him the truth sooner, maybe we wouldn’t be standing here like this.

Without another word, he reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “We’re heading out.”

Myla swings her feet up onto the coffee table, grinning. “Where are you two lovebirds sneaking off to?”

“He’s taking me on a date, but he won’t tell me where,” I say, shooting Zane a glance. He shakes his head, clearly uninterested in fueling Myla’s teasing any further.

“See ya later, Myla. Thanks for always being a pain in my ass,” he tosses over his shoulder, already steering me toward the door.

Myla calls out her goodbye, and I wave before we step outside.

The moment we’re alone in the car, Zane flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. His voice is quieter this time, rougher around the edges. “Why didn’t you tell me you never… hooked up with Luca?”

I angle toward him, studying the hard line of his jaw. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

His grip tightens. “I thought you did. And I guess I just didn’t want to know for sure.” He swallows hard, his next words coming out hoarse. “The thought of you with him…” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Something in my chest aches at the way he says it.

I shift closer, sliding across the seat until I’m in the middle, my hand resting on his thigh. “You’re right. I let you believe there was something more there, but it wasn’t what it looked like. I promise.” My voice softens, coaxing him to look at me. “He let me borrow his shirt to sleep in because I stayed over. I crashed on the floor in Robbie’s room once he and Claudia passed out. That’s all.”

Zane flicks his gaze to me, his expression softening. His fingers find mine, lifting my hand to his mouth and pressing a slow kiss to my palm.

Everything else—the past, the uncertainty—it doesn’t matter. I’m not going back to Alpha Nu.

He doesn’t say much for the rest of the drive, and every attempt I make to get a hint about our destination is met with nothing but a smirk and a shake of his head. But as the miles pass, the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

Lancaster.

It makes sense. There’s only so much to do in Braysen, and we’ve done it all a hundred times over. A small-town routine we both know too well.

When he pulls into the parking lot of the mall, I briefly wonder if we’re going shopping—or maybe catching a movie at the theater nearby—until he parks near the ice skating rink.

I lean forward, taking in the familiar entrance. “Are we going ice-skating?”

A rush of childhood memories floods my mind. The crisp air, the echo of laughter, the way my dad would lace up my skates and pretend not to let go of my hands, even when I knew he already had. Growing up with a father who played both football and hockey, he took any excuse to get us on the ice.

Even though coordination was never my strong suit, I always loved skating.

Those moments feel so far away now, but the warmth of them lingers, curling around my heart.

A smile tugs at my lips as I glance over at Zane. He’s watching me, studying my face as if trying to commit this moment to memory.

“Come on,” he says, pushing open his door.

I wait for him to round the car, knowing he’ll insist on opening mine, and sure enough, he does.

It’s a good thing I changed into something warmer. The chunky sweater, jeans, and booties were a solid choice. Zane, on the other hand, looks criminally good in dark jeans, a fitted gray flannel shirt, and a leather jacket.

It’s not lost on me how women stop to look at him when we pass, their eyes lingering a little too long. It used to make me crazy—the idea of one of them catching his attention. But now, with his fingers tangled in mine, I realize I’m not worried at all.

Because of the way he looks at me.

He lifts our joined hands to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to my knuckles, and my heart damn near melts.

Inside, an older man works the counter, taking our shoe sizes and handing us our skates. Zane carries both pairs to the seating area near the lockers.

I bend to unlace my boots, but before I can, Zane kneels in front of me, his large hands already working on the strings.

Using his shoulder for balance, I watch as he slowly slides them off. And when he moves to stand, his fingers trail up my outer thigh, around to my ass, and he pulls me into the corner.

I gasp, my breath catching. He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, but at the last second, his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“If you keep touching me like that, this date’s going to be over before it even starts,” I blurt out.

His smirk deepens. “Then you’ll have to wait until after if you want to be rewarded.”

I arch a brow. “Rewarded how?”

Zane’s lips brush my ear, his voice dark and husky. “As in, you let me take you ice-skating, and when we’re done, I’ll find somewhere to sneak away and fuck you against the wall.”

My fingers grip his forearm like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. My eyes flutter closed, his breath hot against my skin.

“You like that idea, firecracker?”

I nod, my body trembling as his hands slide lower, gripping my ass and pulling me against him.

“Does it turn you on?” His voice dips even lower. “The thought of me so desperate for you I can’t wait until we get home? That I’ll need to take you right then and there, just to feel you wrapped around me?”

“Zane,” I whisper, my body buzzing with anticipation.

His deep moan vibrates between us before he pulls away, leaving me cold from the loss of his heat. I blink my eyes open, still dazed, my head clouded with want.

“Date first.” He grins, kneeling in front of me again to help lace up my skates.

I watch as his long fingers work the laces, tying them with ease before he moves to sit across from me, kicking off his shoes and pulling on his own skates.

I stand frozen, watching as he rises to his feet and places his shoes beside mine in the locker. Swallowing hard, I tuck my purse inside as well before Zane locks it and slips the key into his pocket.

My legs feel unsteady, and it has nothing to do with the skates. If he keeps that promise, I have a feeling I’ll be lucky if I can stand at all by the end of the night. He holds out his hand, waiting for me to take it.

“Come on, firecracker,” he teases. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”