Page 13 of Trick Shot (Miami Blazers #1)

Chapter seven

~JACE~

There’s a moment—right as the last car door slams shut, and fifteen players along with a group of puck bunnies start stampeding through my beach house—where I remember why I don’t host shit like this often. Chaos, sweat, and body spray that could double as bear repellent.

And her.

She’s the only fucking reason for this trip.

The only reason I let this many morons inside my sanctuary.

I’ve been talking to this girl for ten months and now she’s actually here.

The sunlight dances across her dark hair, shorts riding up her thighs as she walks through my property, halfway aware I’ve imagined her bent over every surface in this house.

My best friend’s little fucking sister. I’m one wrong look away from sinning before lunch.

The house floods with noise. The guys are yelling, laughing, and someone’s already opening beers. Voices bounce off the high ceilings and crash against the stone.

“Jace!” Terrance calls from the stairs. “What’s the bedroom sitch?”

“Just pick whatever,” I shout back.

“I’ll take my usual. Far right, first floor.” Dom walks in behind me, tossing his duffel down by the stairs.

“Yeah,” I mutter, already distracted.

Melody stands near the bottom of the staircase, holding her suitcase like I might steal it again.

She’s wearing tight little shorts and one of those soft cropped shirts that makes it impossible not to stare at the slice of skin above her waistband.

That tiny, infuriating, perfect strip of skin that I’ve thought about biting more than I’ve thought about food today.

“Mel, you picked a room yet?” Dom turns to her.

She opens her mouth, probably to say no, but I cut in before she gets the chance.

“I’ll take her.” My voice is easy, cocky, maybe a little smug. “Show her around before the others start calling dibs.”

“Don’t put her next to Nate. He snores,” Dom throws over his shoulder as he drags his suitcase toward the hallway.

“Wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.” I smile back at him like I’m not mentally fucking his sister six ways from Sunday.

Melody shifts on her feet, clearly trying to decide if she should accept my offer or navigate the house on her own.

“Come on, Mel,” I say, dropping the nickname with a twist of my lips. Some sick part of me is enjoying the upper hand. She doesn’t know she’s been spilling secrets to the same man whom she called ‘insufferable.’

“Fine.” She lifts her chin. “Lead the way.”

I grab her suitcase before she can argue and start leading her up the stairs, ignoring the very real problem growing in my pants just from looking at her.

“Where are you staying?” Dom calls from the bottom of the stairs.

“Downstairs,” I toss over my shoulder. “First room on the left hallway.” Choosing a room furthest away from Melody will keep him from getting suspicious.

The air shifts when we reach the top of the stairs. Still humid from the sea breeze slipping through the open balcony doors, but it’s quieter. I lead her to the room at the end of the left hallway and open the door for her.

“Your room, ma’am.” I step aside, letting her walk in first. She glares at me with suspicion before stepping into the room. Her eyes widen as she takes in the size of it all.

My room’s the biggest in the house. It has a corner view, floor-to-ceiling windows, a balcony that looks out over the water, a huge king-sized bed with a wooden canopy that I made myself. It’s one of my favorite places in the entire world.

And I’m giving it to her.

She doesn’t need to know that yet. If she’s going to moan my name in her sleep, I want her doing it in my bed.

“This house is insane,” she murmurs. “Does it come with a wine cellar in the basement?”

“Only thing aged to perfection in this house is me.” I chuckle as I cross the threshold.

“Your ego must be exhausting to carry around all day.” She raises a delicate brow, turning to face me.

“I’ve got strong shoulders,” I shoot back, glancing down at her. “You should see what else I carry.”

Her breath falters for half a second, then picks right back up. Fucking hell, I love the way she reacts to me.

She turns around to hide the pink tint of her cheeks and walks in further.

“This is… beautiful.” Her fingers brush the edge of the dresser like she’s afraid to break something.

“Consider it a perk. You’re the captain’s sister. You can get other perks as well if you behave.”

She opens her mouth but instead of throwing a comeback, she sucks in a breath. Then crosses her arms over her chest like she’s trying to hide the way her nipples are hardening against her shirt.

Useless, really. I already saw them.

“Enjoy the view,” I say, backing out slowly. “Unless you want me to show you what it looks like from the bed.”

That’s what pushes her over the edge and she launches a pillow at me.

I catch it mid-air, grin wide, and toss it back onto the mattress.

“Pillow fights—after sunset,” I murmur, and close the door behind me.

The sun’s shining over the water, basking the house in that sticky, golden glow that makes everything look better.

I jog down the front steps, pop the trunk of my Ford Raptor, and grab the last bag I left behind. I’m halfway back up the walkway when I hear footsteps behind me. They’re loud, heavy, and 100% Tanner.

“Jace!” he calls out.

I pause, turning slightly as he catches up, his face red from carrying two duffels and a case of beer like an overenthusiastic labrador.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“So… I got stuck upstairs.” He shifts the weight on his shoulder. “Would you mind switching?”

“You wanna switch?” I raise a brow.

“I know you’re downstairs and…dude, I snack like a maniac, and the kitchen’s way closer to your room and no one else wants to switch.”

“What room do you have?” I ask casually.

“Upstairs, second to last door to the left,” he explains, eyes bright with hope.

The beat of silence that follows is only loud to me.

The room right next to mine…Well, Melody’s now.

“Sure,” I say casually before he can keep talking. “Switch is fine.”

“Really?” Tanner grins, all dumb and grateful.

I nod, already imagining how easy it’ll be to hear her. How easy it’ll be to drive her fucking crazy. And how easy it’ll be to casually mention that it was Tanner who requested the switch to Dom.

“Thanks, man.” He clasps my shoulder like I just saved his dog. “You’re a legend.”

“Enjoy your snacks,” I smirk, grabbing my bag again.

The sun’s still hot, hanging heavy over the area, trying to kill us with humidity. Waves crash in the distance, the ocean roaring. The scent of saltwater and expensive cologne is thick in the air, music thumps faintly from the speakers near the patio, and everyone’s already settled.

And I’m sweating, chopping firewood with a man who looks like he eats priests for breakfast.

Thanks, Dom. You absolute fucking traitor.

“I asked Dom for help with the wood,” I mutter under my breath as I line up another piece of wood. “Not Lord Voldemort’s American cousin.”

Next to me, Zed grabs a thick log, plants it on the chopping block, and swings his axe in one clean, effortless motion. It splits perfectly. Not even a grunt.

He doesn’t sweat like a normal person either. He glistens like something freshly forged in hell.

“I can hear you,” he says flatly, reaching for another log.

“Good,” I snap. “Then you know you’re not exactly a talkative delight.”

“I’m not here to delight you.” His eyes flick toward me, light and unreadable beneath dark lashes.

“Fucking clearly.”

We chop in silence for a minute. My arms ache, sweat drips down my back, and I can’t stop thinking about her. She sent me pictures of the house. Well, she sent pictures to Ghost, telling him how the view will be better with me there.

Which is both hilarious and ridiculous, since she’s sending me pictures of my own house, telling me it would be better with me in it.

And I’m here, splitting wood and trying not to imagine what her thighs would feel like wrapped around my waist.

“You need to learn to hide it.” Zed breaks the silence with a quiet murmur.

“What?” I blink, turning.

“The way you look at her. You’re making it obvious.” He drops another piece of wood onto the block, lifts the axe, and swings.

My stomach drops, and my fingers tighten on the axe handle.

“Who?” I ask, too fast, too sharp.

“Dominic’s sister.” He doesn’t look at me, just lifts another log.

My mouth goes dry.

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” I say evenly, but my voice suddenly sounds like sandpaper.

“I know what men look like when they’re about to snap.” His lips twitch, barely, and he finally looks at me.

Before I can fire back, movement catches our eyes—one of the puck bunnies, teetering just two tequila shots away from going fully feral.

She’s wearing a bikini top so small it might be dental floss and a pair of jean shorts.

She stumbles up, sunglasses pushed up on her head, lips already pulled into a practiced smile.

“Oh my God,” she giggles, tossing her hair over one shoulder as she eyes both of us. “Are you guys like… lumberjack porn right now? Should I be filming this?” She pauses, then adds, “Are you going to make me choose?” she purrs, eyes flicking between us like she’s picking a meal. “Or… not.”

Zed slowly turns his head toward me, and for the first time, I read the message in them clearly: Should I get rid of her or you?

I wipe sweat off my brow, grip the axe tighter, and sigh.

“Try the grill,” I say, nodding toward where a few guys are setting it up and shouting over who gets the next beer. “They’re already warmed up.”

“Seriously?” She pouts.

“Seriously. This one doesn’t talk much,” I nod at Zed. “And I bite.”

Her eyes widen just a little before she blinks a few times in hopes of us changing our minds. When none of us budge, she huffs and spins on her heel, stomping off like a toddler denied candy.

“Whatever you think you know about Dom’s sister, you’re wrong.” I glance at Zed.