Page 29 of Trick Shot (Miami Blazers #1)

Chapter fifteen

~JACE~

Tanner’s talking.

Something about his brother’s birthday party last week, a helium balloon arch catching on fire, and how it ended in a fistfight with a pro-golfer. I think. I don’t know. I stopped listening ten minutes ago.

I’m too busy not throwing a plate against the wall.

The dishwasher clicks open beside me, steam curling out. Tanner hands me a dish towel and I dry the same fork three times before realizing what I’m doing.

Outside, the rest of the guys are setting the table on the patio. Someone’s lighting candles, someone else is salting the meat on the grill with way too much enthusiasm, and I’m two seconds from losing my fucking mind.

“You good, man?” Tanner asks, squinting at me.

“Yeah.”

Lie.

“You’re grinding your teeth like you’re chewing glass.”

“Just hungry.” I shrug.

Another lie. I’m not hungry. I’m starving and furious. Starving for Melody. Furious because of Zed.

The sound of her laugh from outside makes my knuckles whiten around the plate I’m holding. I can’t fucking focus. Not when Zed’s little tease keeps replaying in my head like a goddamn virus.

I can’t stop imagining another man touching her—or even thinking about it. And that fucking dementor, Zed, planting the idea in her head like it’s right.

Something inside me twists. I’m jealous, sure.

But I’m also getting possessive. I don’t just want her body—I’m past that.

I’ve been past that since the second month of texting.

Now I want everyone to know she’s mine. I want to be the only one who gets to plant little fucking fantasies in her head. The only one who ever gets to.

And Ghost? Fuck him too.

Because she gives him things—things she won’t give me. She talks to him, confides in him, fantasizes about him. And Jace is just the brainless asshole she fucked last night.

I know she thinks she’s cheating on Ghost with me. And cheating on me with Ghost, maybe? I don’t know. The point is, I let her—because I can’t give either one up without her shutting me out for good.

I grab another plate and set it down a little too hard. Tanner flinches and looks at me.

“Maybe sit this one out, man. You’re about to shatter the dishes.”

“I’ll help you load up the dirty ones,” I say absently, wiping my hands on a towel.

My jaw aches. Didn’t even realize I was clenching it this hard.

I walk to the window and stare outside.

There she is. Laughing at something Dom said. Hair curled, legs crossed, glowing like she didn’t just give me a mental breakdown a couple of hours ago. She hasn’t looked at me since. I tried to talk to her—she ignored me. I texted her as Ghost—cold shoulder.

Is it because of what Zed suggested? She tried one of her brother’s teammates out, and now she wants to hop on another?

No, that isn’t it. Then what the fuck is it?

“She’s real cute, but she’s not worth it, bro,” Tanner says from behind me.

I turn to look at him and he shrugs. “Dom’s sister.

That’s who you’re looking at, right?” He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m not judging you. The whole team’s talking about her.

But we know better than to stick our dicks into the Captain’s family. ”

“Yeah,” I mutter.

My chest tightens. My fists curl.

No one sticks their dick in the ‘Captain’s family’ but me.

“Excuse me,” I grunt and walk out of the kitchen, headed straight toward the outdoor kitchen.

I see him as soon as I step outside—knife in hand.

Zed’s standing at the outdoor counter, slicing through vegetables, calm and dead silent. He’s got this way of existing like the air bends around him. And I should know better. I do know better.

But I’m done knowing better. Because every time I look at Melody, all I can hear is “He might stay quiet if we invite him to join us next time.”

I shove open the sliding glass door and it bangs shut behind me as I storm up to the behemoth of a dude.

Zed doesn’t flinch.

“Need something?” He slices through a red pepper—slow and precise, like a surgeon.

His tone is casual.

“I’m gonna say this once,” I snap, voice quiet as I grab a mushroom and start slicing it next to him. “Stay the fuck away from her.”

He pauses just long enough to let the silence cut and looks at me.

“Which her?” His eyes are vacant and cold, yet… deeply unsettling.

“Don’t play with me,” I grit out, chopping the mushroom unevenly.

“I’m not.” His gaze drops to the cutting board. “You’re worked up.” His blade hits the wood with soft, rhythmic clicks.

“You think this is funny?” I bite out, grabbing a zucchini.

“I think you’re dangerously close to ruining dinner.”

“And you’re dangerously close to a trip to the ICU,” I growl.

“Not interested.” Zed’s eyes flick up—amused. “In her, that is. But a trip to the ICU sounds interesting.”

The knife moves in his hand like it’s part of his arm while I look like I’m trying to mince the vegetables with a vengeance.

“I have a knife,” I say flatly.

“So do I,” he says flatly. “Suggesting a sword fight?”

“I’m suggesting you stop talking to Melody.”

Zed sighs through his nose like I’m exhausting him. He stops cutting and turns fully toward me, wiping the knife clean with a paper towel.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if I can get you this worked up over her, imagine what Dominic would do once he finds out.”

My jaw ticks.

“You gonna bribe me with a threesome to shut up too?” I snap, keeping my voice hushed.

“Tempting,” he says, slipping the towel onto the counter. “With all that rage in you, we’d make a great team.” His eyes cut to mine, sharp and slow like the knife he’s holding. “Head or tail?”

My blood roars.

I can stab him. I can stab him right now and throw his body into the ocean for the fish to feast on.

And the fact that he’s calm makes this even fucking worse.

If I swing at him first, they’ll start asking questions.

What do I say? He cut the peppers too thin?

No. I can’t beat the shit out of him with everyone watching—and he knows it.

“Say something like that again and I’ll put you in the fucking ground,” I grit out.

“I’m getting bored of this conversation.” He picks up another pepper and casually slices the stem off. “If we’re not going to fuck together or fight each other, stop butchering the vegetables and go set the plates.”

“Let me check you real fucking quick.” I set the knife down and turn to him. “I think you’re forgetting whose house this is. You don’t tell me to stop cutting, you don’t tell me to set the plates, and you sure as fuck don’t plant shit inside Melody’s head.”

“Jace,” he sets the knife down and do the same, “I’m not here to fuck and I’m not here to fight.

You’ve opened up your home to me, and I will not disrespect you in here.

But my patience is wearing thin. So, I’ll say this once—and hope you’ve cleaned your ears this morning.

What you do with that girl is none of my business. ”

We stare at each other, both knives down. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses drift in from the patio, a seagull screeches in the distance, and Pitbull’s Hotel Motel scrapes against my spine as it booms through the speakers.

“Don’t confuse my boredom for interference,” he says without looking at me. “I like to stir the pot when I get bored. Doesn’t mean I want a taste.”

“You ever stir the pot again with her,” I say, voice low and lethal, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Zed picks up another pepper, slicing through it with the same slow precision like nothing happened.

“You know,” he says, “for someone trying so hard to keep things quiet, you’re loud as fuck.”

“You gonna tell him?” I ask the real question, folding my arms across my chest, glaring at him.

“What would I gain from that?” Zed lifts a brow.

“The satisfaction.”

“Not worth it. I’m not interested in watching people burn just because they’re dumb. I save that for the ones who deserve it.” He pauses, then nods toward the patio. “But that?” he says, chin-jerking toward Dom. “That’s a fire waiting to happen. And you’ve got two choices.”

“Let’s hear them, wise master.” My smile is nothing but mockery, but Zed doesn’t seem fazed.

“You keep sneaking around and let the truth find him first.” He holds up one finger, tattooed with a weird symbol I can’t understand. “Or you walk out there, balls in hand, and tell him yourself.” He holds up a second one, carrying a similar symbol.

Zed leans in slightly, his voice dropping.

“If you want to keep her and your friend, you better control the narrative. Because when it comes from someone else, you’re not just a villain—you’re a liar.”

“Dom is going to flip,” I mutter, not knowing why I’m even confiding in him. Maybe I need someone to talk to about this.

“Dom is going to flip either way. You have to control which side he flips to.” He taps the cutting board once with the tip of his blade—but it’s enough to lodge it into the wood. “Melody’s grown up extremely shielded. This is new to her. You’re the one who has to step up in this situation.”

I blink at him, confused—then remember the fucker used to hang out with Dom when they were younger. He’s known Melody longer than I have. And the thought doesn’t sit right with me, but there’s jackshit I can do about it.

“I apologize for my inappropriate comment to her,” he says, looking me dead in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have disrespected you both the way I did.”

And then he extends his hand toward me.

I stare at it.

I could ignore it and walk away.

But instead, I grab it—feeling like he’s putting some fucked up curse on me with all that shit he’s got tattooed.

“You say one more word to her,” I mutter, “I’ll chop your dick off and serve it with the appetizers.”

The sun’s low, bleeding gold over the backyard. Dom’s outside by the grill, Tanner’s tossing the salad way too aggressively, and I’m inside, stirring a pan of garlic rice and losing my mind again.

Melody’s not talking to me.

Not Jace.

Not Ghost.