Page 2 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

TWO

I realize my mistake in switching from music to self-improvement the second Dominic Fox’s overly cheerful voice cuts through the podcast I’m half-listening to about neurotransmitters and how to hack your brain chemistry.

If the whiny and wounded lyrics of Teenage Dirtbag were still playing, they might’ve drowned him out.

“Hey, Mia!”

I spin, and yep, he’s hovering on the other side of the fence that separates his backyard from my brother’s yard.

Ryan put it in for their dog, Freddie, and the foster dogs Hannah brings home.

Shame he didn’t choose something taller to keep other pests out.

I go back to throwing the ball for Freddie, ignoring his presence.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Of course he would say something so cliché and idiotic. “What’re you up to?”

I slip the headphones around my neck and turn back toward him.

He’s like a fly, sometimes it’s best to acknowledge him, even if it’s more like swatting him away than having a real conversation.

He’s incapable of taking a hint. Reading subtle cues, body language?

Yeah, not his strong suit. Which is shocking, considering he plays a sport that relies on reading plays and players.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Dominic?” I rest my clenched fist on my hip. “I’m throwing a ball for Freddie. Some would call this fetch.”

He chuckles, completely unperturbed. One of the many reasons I don’t like him. No one should be that ignorantly happy.

With one quick motion, he hops over the fence.

Why Ryan didn’t spring for a privacy fence—or better yet, one with barbed wire at the top—I’ll never know. Instead, he went with one of those decorative black metal ones that are barely four feet tall and apparently stand no chance of keeping six-foot-four hockey players out.

“I’ll have to talk to Lo about adding a gate for easier access,” Dominic comments, snatching the ball from my hand and tossing it way farther than I ever could. It bounces down the yard and through the narrow side path, Freddie darts after it until he disappears around the corner.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” I scowl up at him, but he just stands there, waiting for the dog to return. When he does, he throws it again.

“Is there something you want?” I ask. “Or are you just trying to ruin another one of my mornings?”

I wish I could say this was a one-time thing, but it’s pretty much a daily occurrence at this point.

I’ve been staying with my brother for the summer, helping my soon-to-be sister-in-law with a wave of puppies she’s taken in, all looking for forever homes. Animal rescue isn’t my passion the same way it is hers, but it’s not like I have anything better to do.

I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with my life, which means I tend to drift toward whatever calls to me.

Some days I don’t hate it, but I wouldn’t say I feel particularly…

fulfilled either. I keep telling myself I’m young and have time to work it all out.

No need to commit until I’m sure I’ve found the thing that really fits.

“You mean brighten, right?” Dominic fires back.

“Nope. I had it right the first time. How do you manage it? You go out, hook up, come back slamming car doors, then pop out here the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed just to annoy me. Doesn’t it get exhausting?”

I’m not exaggerating. For the past month, it’s been the same routine… Every. Single. Night. He maybe takes two nights off a week, tops.

My room happens to be on the side of the house closest to his, so I get the full experience: car door slams, garage rumbles shut, back door snicks closed. Like my very own midnight alarm clock.

The only positive? At least he’s considerate enough to keep his activities elsewhere. I haven’t seen him bring anyone home yet .

“Aw, keeping tabs on me, Mia? Not having the same luck dating?” His tone is mocking as he nudges my side. “Maybe you should check your app… could’ve gotten a new match. Never know when love’s gonna find you.” He chuckles. At least someone’s amused.

What’s he playing at?

I take a step back and pull my phone out of my pocket, opening the app Hannah insisted I download. Apparently, it’s a rite of passage in this group. Trial by online dating.

I haven’t actually gone on a date yet, and it’s not high on my list of priorities. I’ve dated enough to know I’m not looking for anything serious—at least not now. It’s just another distraction to add to my arsenal.

The first thing that pops up is: You’ve got matches.

Dominic hovers over my shoulder. “Fuck, I was right. What, has every man in Chicago swiped right on your profile?”

“Sounds like you don’t have the same popularity? I’m shocked. Really,” I deadpan.

Although, I am a little surprised. He’s not…

bad-looking, and let’s be real, no one is going off personality here.

Pictures can’t capture his arrogance, his need for attention, or the way he turns everything into a joke.

I doubt he’s advertising it in his bio, which is probably just as ridiculous as the man himself.

“Rude,” he scoffs.

Freddie has impeccable timing, butting his slobber-covered ball into my hand. I keep scrolling through matches with my other, already pretty sure I’ve figured out what Dominic’s hinting at.

And sure enough, it only takes a couple more swipes to see the same face beside me staring back from my screen.

It’s a much more understated photo than I’d expect from him. I would’ve bet money it would be him standing in front of his two-hundred-thousand-dollar bright yellow Lamborghini, in full Saints gear—because, really, what’s more attractive than being rich and a hockey player?

I roll my eyes.

Instead, it’s him in a backward baseball cap and a plain white tee, in a selfie that looks like it might’ve been taken at a park. He does have his ridiculously wide smile plastered on, but that’s a given. I’m convinced it’s a permanent feature of his face.

When I look back at him, he’s watching me with said smile.

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” I do my best to sound hopeful and not give away that I’m fucking with him. I take a step closer, looking up at him through my lashes.

For once, he actually looks like he doesn’t know what to do. His mouth opens, then shuts again.

I laugh. I can’t help it.

“Oh, God. Your face. Don’t worry, I’ll save you the embarrassment and just tell you no.” I flash him my sweetest fake smile. “It’s not me, it’s you.”

“You’re cute when you’re mean.”

A finger runs between my brows and down my nose. He bops it before I even register the motion, and I swat his hand away. See? Like a gnat.

“Quit it!” I screech, trying to plant a slap on his chest, but he hops out of reach.

Before I can regroup, Ryan wedges himself between us, stepping into his usual peacekeeper role. I’d like to say this is the first time our bickering needed a mediator, but… yeah, not even close.

“All right, kids. I think that’s enough.” Ryan pulls me into his side and places a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.

Dominic winks, and I grin, or at least that’s my intention. It feels more like I’m baring my teeth.

Thankfully, Ryan steers me toward the house before I can get another word out—or before my blood pressure hits the “stroke risk” zone.

Or was it a heart attack? I’ll have to Google it to be sure…

though my therapist wouldn’t approve. I try to push the spiraling thoughts away, but they linger like a pop-up ad.

Ryan distracts me when he asks, “What is up with you two? Can’t you just play nice?” He drops his arm from my shoulder as the distance between us and his teammate grows.

“It’s—”

“Him?” he finishes before I can.

“Yeah, it is. He’s impossible. I don’t know how you’re still friends with him. Or how the Saints have kept him this long…”

“Mia, he’s the assistant captain. He’s been with the team since he was drafted thirteen years ago.

He’s not going anywhere. And now that we know I’m not either, at least for the foreseeable future, you’re going to have to get along.

Or at least pretend to.” He nods toward the house next door. “He’s my neighbor, for fuck’s sake.”

“He’s dreadful. That’s what he is.”

“Me? You’re the one who hates me for no apparent reason,” Dominic quips, trailing behind us and not catching the memo to fuck off. “I’m a likable guy. Everyone says so.”

“Did you ever consider that they’re lying to you?” I snip, turning to face him. “No, of course you didn’t, your head is too thick for that.”

“Not the head you’re referring to, but I agree.”

“Are you two serious?” Ryan tries to de-escalate.

But Dominic talks right over him. “Seriously, what do you have against me? I’m dying to know… Can you even tell me?”

“The list is too long.”

“I’ve got time.”

He asked for it.

“Well, for starters, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter?—”

“That doesn’t sound so different from you,” he cuts in.

“Pfft. It’s not the same.”

I ignore his raised brows and push on. “You’re too happy. No one is that happy…”

That only makes him beam. I point accusingly at his dimples. “See!”

He chuckles, enjoying getting a rise out of me.

“You make everything about you,” I add.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I should pay more attention to you, pip.” He tries to rest his elbow on my head, but I see it coming and duck out of the way. “Sometimes, I forget about you down there.”

“You’re not funny. I don’t know why people think you are. I think it’s more of a laughing- at -you thing.” I only feel slightly bad as the words leave my mouth.

He shrugs. “At least I’m making people happy, right? Everyone except you. Is that it? Is this a cry for attention, darling?”

“Do not call me darling. Or pip. Or any other cutesy nicknames, Dominic,” I practically snarl, the flush spreading from my neck to my chest. “And don’t touch me.

You probably have a venereal disease. Seriously…

when is being a hotshot playboy going to get old?

Are you aiming to be the next Hugh Hefner? ”

“I mean… Wait, did you just call me hot?”

“Ugh! Can you at least try to have the decency to not wake me up nightly with your dalliances?”

“My what?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that too big a word for you?”

“No, I think you’ve been watching too much Bridgerton?—”

“Enough!” Ryan shouts.

We both scowl at him, which is when I realize we’re practically nose to nose. Or as close as we can be, given our height difference. I take a quick step back.

Hannah appears by his side, but unlike Ryan’s furious expression, hers is filled with amusement. “Hey, what happened to this being your summer of love? I thought it was ‘in the air,’” she asks Dominic.

“This one”—he jerks his elbow in my direction—“is like a wildfire sucking up all the oxygen.”

I scoop up Freddie’s ball and launch it at Dominic’s head. He dodges it, of course, so I admit defeat— for now —and retreat inside, the patio door slamming shut behind me.

“Aw, come on, pip! Don’t go getting all sensitive on me now,” Dominic calls after me.

I stomp through the brownstone and up the stairs, where the excited yaps of foster dogs drown out his voice.

I can’t spend the whole summer stuck in this loop.

This was supposed to be a relaxing break. A fun escape. Just another distraction.

Another stop along my endlessly winding path.

My parents and Ryan tried to sell me on college. I considered it, but four years is a long time. Too long to be stuck in one place.

They said it’d give me stability, but isn’t that what I’ve been running from? Isn’t that where my thoughts catch up with me?

I don’t expect them, or anyone, to really understand. I know they just want me to be happy. They all make it sound so easy.

I wish it was.

But all I know is how to run.

I pull out my phone. Settled on my next sprint, I reply to the message with two words: I’m in. And with that, you’re looking at the newest contestant on the world’s most ridiculous television show: You’re The One.

Am I going to find love? Hell, no.

But am I going on a killer vacation? One hundred percent, yes.

Not even the thought of Dominic’s stupid face can ruin the high of having something— anything —to look forward to.

I don’t know who the bachelor is.

But does it really matter?

… I guess it matters a bit. He has to at least like me enough to keep me around.

What if he falls in love with me?

Nope. Not even going there.

The last thing I’m looking for is love.