Page 43 of Trick Shot (Miami Blazers #1)

“But I did it because I couldn’t stand it.” And when he speaks again, it’s almost a whisper. “So yeah, maybe I’ve been a little fucking insane about keeping men away from her.” Dom looks up again, eyes hard. “Maybe I overdid it. Maybe I didn’t know how to stop because that’s all I’ve ever done.”

I can’t sit still anymore, so I start pacing a few steps. I need to shake off the image of her in some tight little dress, trying to be good while men with too much money picked her apart with their eyes.

“Fuck,” I mutter. My fists won’t unclench.

Dom nods slowly, then looks down.

“So when she told me about you—about what she felt for you…” Dom shakes his head. “I didn’t believe it at first. I couldn’t. Because Melody doesn’t let men in. Not like that.”

He looks at me and his eyes are sharp but not angry anymore.

“You slipped past every wall she’s ever built, and she didn’t even stop you. She let you in. And it made me angry. I’ve been the only man in her life for so long who’s protected her. I didn’t know how to not be.”

I know that feeling—that sick twist of rage and fear when something that was always yours shifts.

“Me coming into her life doesn’t mean you’re not protecting her anymore,” I finally speak. “It means there’s two of us now.”

Dom looks at me, holding my gaze for a few moments, considering what I said. Then slowly, he nods once, and the air suddenly returns to my lungs. He nodded. He agreed.

“When we were driving to the arena today, she was fidgeting and bouncing in her seat. She kept checking the time like a kid on Christmas morning. She wasn’t excited about the game.” He looks right at me. “She was excited to see you.”

Dom pulls off his shoulder pads absentmindedly.

“And it made me think…” He shrugs slightly. “How much I fucking miss you too.”

My eyes flicker to him, wide and shocked. I’m not sure I can speak through this lump in my throat.

He hesitates, then exhales.

“So thanks. For keeping your distance. For giving me time to grow the fuck up and deal with this without pushing it away. I know that shit wasn’t easy for either of you.”

“It wasn’t.” My voice cracks.

Dom clears his throat, grabs his gear bag from the locker, and slings it over his shoulder.

“I just wanna see her happy.” He shrugs, trying to play it off, but it lands heavy anyway. “And I wanna see you happy too.”

“Dom…” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Doesn’t mean I’m suddenly okay with your dick anywhere near her,” he adds dryly. “But as long as I pretend you two just hold hands and kiss each other’s cheeks, I’ll cope.”

“That’s very healthy of you.” I snort.

“I’m growing,” he deadpans.

A pause, then his tone shifts again.

“You might be a lot of things, Jace. But I believe you’re not going anywhere.”

His gaze is steady now, heavy with trust. “I believe you’re staying. But if I’m wrong—if you break her heart—”

“Yeah, I know,” I cut in, voice hoarse. “You’ll kill me.”

“No.” His voice stops me cold. “You’ll break mine too.”

That’s it.

I can’t take another second. I step forward, and without another word, I pull him into a bear hug.

Fists clench in the back of his jersey, shoulders tense, muscles locked.

And it feels fucking good. Ten days of not seeing Melody, ten days of being away from my best friend, emotionally…

it fucked me up. And I don’t ever want it again.

Dom claps my back hard before we pull apart, both our eyes red-rimmed. Dom sniffs and pushes me back.

“Don’t get sappy now. Go shower—we’ve got a press conference to attend,” he says, but his voice is filled with emotion the same way his eyes are glazed with unshed tears.

“Sure, Captain.” I salute him and turn with a chuckle.

“Jace. One more thing,” he calls after me.

“Yeah?” I turn around a second too late to see it coming.

Oh, fuck.

Dom steps forward and drives his fist into my face. The punch lands clean across my jaw—sharp, fast, with every ounce of meaning packed behind his knuckles.

I stumble back a half-step, flexing my jaw, immediately tasting blood in my mouth. He held back enough not to drop me, but it’s enough to sting like fucking hell.

“Jesus fuck, Dom!”

“Been wanting to do that since the party,” he says, shaking out his hand.

I swipe the blood off my lip with my thumb and spit into the trash can, grinning at him.

We’re so fucking back.

The music at Dom’s house is blasting. There’s laughter, shouts, heat, sweat, and celebration filling every corner.

Melody’s pressed up beside me on the couch with our knees grazing mine. She’s got a drink in her hand that we both share, and she’s absolutely glowing.

I don’t even realize I’m touching her until her fingers brush over my busted lip.

I flinch a little but don’t move away.

“Did he have to punch you that hard?” she mumbles. Her thumb traces the edge of the split, her brows pulled together with soft worry.

“He held back.” I grin.

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her hand drops, but I catch it and lace our fingers together.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Aiden slurs next to us, and I immediately sigh, already knowing what’s coming.

There’s always that one guy who gets sentimental when he’s drunk.

On our team?

It’s fucking Aiden.

He’s standing on one of Dom’s dining chairs with beer sloshing in one hand.

“I just wanna say a few words,” he slurs, dramatically wiping under one eye like he’s about to cry.

Groans erupt from the living room.

“Sit the fuck down!” someone yells.

“He’s hammered again.”

“He’s gonna cry.”

Aiden ignores them all.

“No, seriously, shut the fuck up, this is important.” He waves the beer can, spraying a little foam, and holds up a hand like a drunk priest about to deliver a sermon.

“First of all, first pre-season win, bitches!”

A round of whoops and clinking beers fills the room.

“Second of all…” He pauses, swaying slightly. “I just wanna take a moment to appreciate the brick wall we’re lucky enough to have as a goalie. Zed fucking Mercer.”

“Fuck yeah, Zed!” A roar of agreement explodes.

I glance across the room where Zed is leaning against the kitchen island. He lifts his glass slightly toward us and barely gives us a smile—just a tilt of acknowledgment with a twitch of his lips.

It’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen from the guy.

Aiden clutches his chest like he just witnessed a miracle. But he’s not done.

“But seriously,” he says, wiping a fake tear off his cheek, “we all knew this season was gonna start hot. But what I didn’t know was that our golden boy defenseman…”

He turns dramatically toward me.

“…was gonna fall in love.”

Oh fuck.

Melody stiffens beside me.

The entire room turns in our direction like a spotlight’s been dropped on the couch. The whole room erupts—cheers, whistles, someone slams their beer against the table like a judge with a gavel.

I lean back, arm slung over the backrest, Melody curled into my side.

“Madly,” I add with a smile. My jaw’s already aching, my busted lip split again from laughing.

“Clearly.” He holds up his hand like he’s a lawyer making closing arguments. “Because not only is Jace in love, but he got fined for it.”

Aiden wipes under his eye again, completely full of shit.

“To our goalie Zed, our lover boy Jace, to us, the Miami fucking Blazers. May this be the beginning of our blaze of terror.”

Everyone cheers as Aiden salutes and immediately slips off the chair—but somehow lands on his feet.

The music thunders back to life, the party surges on, and everyone returns to whatever the hell they were doing.

“Well, that was dramatic,” I chuckle, lifting Melody’s hand to bring the glass she’s holding to my lips.

She glances over her shoulder, scanning the room.

I don’t have to ask to know what she’s doing—she’s looking for Dom, eyes tracking his voice across the house.

And when she confirms he’s not looking, she turns back and grabs my face.

Her hands are soft, her grip is firm, and there’s no hesitation. She kisses me—hard, and very public.

And I’m so caught off guard, I forget about the fucking split in my lip until she bites down.

“Fuck,” I hiss, jerking slightly.

“Shit, sorry.” She pulls back, wide-eyed.

“You trying to finish what Dom started?” I smirk, licking the blood off the edge of my mouth.

“Oh, did I forget your poor little battle wound?” She grins, not even pretending to feel bad now.

My gaze darkens immediately, and I feel the switch. I lean in close, my voice just for her now.

“Keep being bratty.” My hand slides up her thigh. “And see where it gets you.”

“Hopefully?” She leans in, mouth ghosting over mine, her eyes on fire. “With you on top of me.”

My jaw tightens and my hand on her thigh grips harder.

“Melody…” I say it like a warning, but it comes out more like a threat.

“Yes, tough guy?” She smiles innocently, batting her eyelashes.

Okay, someone’s asking for it.

I take her hand and rise from the couch, dragging her up with me. I lead us away from everyone—away from the music, the laughter, and the guys yelling about Tanner’s drinking tolerance and Zed’s terrifying goalie reflexes.

She follows me without asking where we’re going.

She knows.

I walk us upstairs and pause.

“This one’s mine,” she whispers, pointing at a door with a playful smile.

I smirk back at her and pull her toward the room.

The second we step inside, I don’t wait. We’ve been waiting long enough. I push her back against the door the second it clicks shut. My mouth crashes into hers, lips bruising, hands grabbing.

Months of texting. Weeks of pretending. Days of aching.

All of it detonates.

I lift her off the ground, palms under her ass, pressing her back into the wood as her dress rides up around her hips. She wraps her legs around me instantly, gasping into my mouth.

“You wanted to play games downstairs?” I growl, breath ragged. “Keep teasing me with that smart mouth?”

“You liked it.” She tilts her head with a wicked smile.

I carry her across the room and drop her onto the edge of the dresser. Her hair spills down her back and her thighs open like they were waiting for me.

I drag her panties aside, needing to feel her on my fingers again. And when I do… fuck. She’s so wet and smooth I almost groan out loud.

I take two fingers and slide them in slowly.

Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, eyes fluttering, mouth parting on a moan that damn near makes me lose my mind.

“I’ve missed this fucking pussy so much.” I curl my fingers, and her hips jerk.

“You think you can push me around like that in public and not pay for it?” I breathe against her throat.

“Maybe I wanted to pay,” she moans.

“You wanna pay?” I pull back enough to look at her—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.

She leans forward, whispering against my mouth.

“Yes.”

“Should I come inside you,” I growl, “or keep you throbbing for me, make you so wet you can’t think straight?”

“Oh my god,” she whimpers as I start pumping my fingers in and out of her, feeling her stretch around them.

“Should I bend you over again and fuck you until you can’t stand… or fuck you slow until you’re begging me to ruin you?” I slide my fingers deeper, thumb rubbing slow, brutal circles.

She grabs the back of my neck, dragging me into another kiss—open, needy, and filthy.

“Do it,” she breathes.

“Do what?”

“All of it,” she breathes, and she reaches for my belt with fast fingers. She’s hungry and desperate.

“No.” I grab her wrists.

She blinks up at me, confused.

“Why?” She stares at me, lips parted, breathing heavy.

I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers.

“Because we’re not hiding anymore.” My hand trails down her side. “We’re not sneaking around. We’re not in a rush. No more secrets. No more shame.”

She softens, and I kiss her softly.

“I don’t want to fuck you,” I murmur against her lips, releasing her wrists.

She freezes and pulls back. Her face falls a little, like I just let the air out of her.

“No?” she asks, quiet and unsure.

I shake my head.

I lift her gently, carrying her to the bed before lowering her onto it, my body braced over hers. Her hair spills across the pillow, and she wraps her legs around me.

“No.” I brush my knuckles down her cheek. “I want to make love to you.”

She looks up at me, and I watch her lips stretch into a big smile that fills my chest with something heavy and warm.

Her hands come up and slide around my neck, pulling me down into her like gravity. She kisses me, slow and deep, softly nibbling at my bottom lip. No rush. No shame. No fear. Just us.

And for the first time since my mother walked out that door twenty years ago, I feel whole.