Page 26 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

TWENTY-FIVE

“I’m going to do it tonight,” Victoria declares.

“Do what?” Summer asks, speaking for all of us.

We’re spread out on the U-shaped couch, waiting for the man of the hour to arrive. There are eight of us left, but after tonight, we’ll be down to four. It’s the last cocktail party. The final rose ceremony. The last night in the mansion.

Good riddance to them all.

“Kiss Dominic,” she says confidently. “This kissing curse is ridiculous. I’m sure he already knows who he’s keeping. We had a perfect one-on-one this week. There’s no way he’s planning to send me home.” She pauses just long enough before adding, “And I’m a great kisser.”

If anyone’s bold enough to follow through, it’s Victoria. But why couldn’t she have done this on her actual date? Why does it have to happen now— here —where she’ll probably be in plain sight of the rest of us? I really don’t want a front row seat.

The thought of watching Dom kiss her settles in my stomach like a rock. Lately, my stomach has a lot of opinions when it comes to him. It swoops, flips, and now knots with dread.

I take a sip of my champagne, hoping to drown the feeling. It doesn’t help. Maybe I should go see my doctor when we’re back in Chicago?

“You must really want to go home.” Summer arches one perfectly sculpted brow as she lifts her glass. “Right before the real fun begins? You’re braver than I am.”

Victoria sips her drink before shrugging. “Oh, I’m going to Hawaii. You’re all too superstitious.”

Okay, I guess that’s not enough to sway her. She’s made up her mind.

I stare down at my glass. Focusing on the condensation, the tiny bubbles clinging to the side, anything but what I might have to watch unfold later tonight.

“Hockey players are pretty superstitious,” I offer, aiming for casual.

Summer and River both nod. “They are,” Summer backs me up.

“Good evening, ladies.” I barely register Dom’s entrance, too distracted by Victoria’s declaration.

When I finally look at him, he’s already watching me. There’s a furrow between his brows. You okay? he mouths.

I nod, recrossing my legs and smoothing the silky fabric of my dress.

River stands first and asks if they can talk, but before Dominic follows her, he closes the distance between us and lowers just enough to catch my eyes.

“You sure you’re okay? Anxious?” he questions softly, the crease between his brows deepening.

Are my feelings written across my face?

I try to smooth my expression and offer a small, nonchalant smile. “I’m good. Promise. Have fun.”

But he doesn’t move. No, he does the opposite, crouching at my feet and placing a warm hand on my knee. “Tell me,” he insists.

Now is not the time to admit that one of the women he’s dating is planning to kiss him, and the thought makes me nauseous. And anxious. And also, very aware of the cameras in the room. The fear of having a full-blown panic attack on national television is almost as bad as the unwanted jealousy.

I shake my head.

I’m saved by Bodhi, who taps his shoulder. “C’mon, bud. Got the perfect spot set up for you and River.”

Dom throws him a look. “Seriously?”

“We’re on a tight schedule. Unless you want to be here all night and fly to Chicago on zero sleep…”

Dom sighs, squeezing my knee once before he stands. “I’ll come find you next.”

Then he’s gone, and the second he is, that sinking knot returns to my stomach.

He doesn’t come back. Instead, Bodhi rotates the women through their allotted time with him, one by one, guiding them between carefully lit, camera-ready setups. Apparently, I’m last on the docket.

So, I wait. And wait some more. They cycle through, the night dragging on, until it’s just me and Victoria left.

She gave up trying to make small talk an hour ago when it became clear I wasn’t going to be a great conversationalist. I’m not, even on my best days, but tonight is worse.

Finally, Summer returns and takes the empty seat next to me. Bodhi appears again and heads off with Victoria.

“Wish me luck,” she tosses over her shoulder with a wink.

Of course, he sets them up right outside on the patio, giving the rest of us in the living room an unobstructed view.

“How’re you holding up?” Summer asks.

“I’m fine. How’re you?” I respond a little too fast.

She gives me a look. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m not into him like that.”

My brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“You and Dominic…” She lowers her voice even more.

My lips tug down at the corners. Have I really been that obvious? About my teeny, tiny, not-at-all-serious crush? The one I’ve barely admitted to myself.

“You do see how this is playing out, don’t you?” She tilts her head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re pretty much the only one he sees here. I don’t even know how they’re going to edit this to make it seem like anyone else had a real shot.”

I hate how fast hope blooms.

But, that can’t be right.

I risk a glance at the patio, and Dom’s already looking at me.

Victoria’s completely absorbed in him, her hand gliding deliberately along his thigh. She’s smiling, laughing at something he said. And the worst part? She looks taken with him. Exactly what he came here hoping to find.

And me? I’ve spent years sending him nothing but scowls and sarcasm. My looks haven’t thrown hearts—they’ve thrown daggers.

But maybe…

Just for a second, I let myself hope that Summer’s right. That maybe what he wants is me.

Then Victoria leans into his side and nuzzles her face against his shoulder, and I have to look away.

“I think I need a refill.” I stand. “Want one?”

Summer shakes her head, so I make my way to the bar where Bodhi is leaning, arms crossed, watching Dom and Victoria from a distance.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this,” I tease as I come up beside him. The bartender tops off my champagne.

He turns toward me, and thankfully, his broad frame blocks my view of the couple behind him.

“How’re you tonight, Mia?” A camera swoops in over his shoulder, seemingly out of nowhere. “I’m sorry I couldn’t slot you in with Dominic tonight, but I know you two have already had plenty of bonding time.” He winks.

My heart skips. Are they on to us? Do they know about our morning walks? Or is he just talking about our past? Either way, I’m sure as hell not going to fess up.

Nope, denial is my closest friend recently.

“It’s okay.” I keep my tone light. “You’re just saving the best for last.”

“Oh… sorry.” Bodhi winces. “After Victoria, we’re moving straight into the ceremony. You know how it goes; sometimes not everyone gets time.”

Of course I know. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve missed one-on-one time. In the first few weeks, I actively avoided it. But now? I was actually looking forward to time alone. Even if it meant watching him kiss someone else first.

God, what a mess I’ve made of this.

“Right.”

Bodhi places a supportive hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get time in Chicago.”

“Yeah,” I say, even though I have no idea if that’s true.

He grins. “How’s the matchmaking going? Looks like you’ve got a real knack for it.” He tips his head toward the patio. “So, who’s your pick?”

My eyes flick to the nearest camera before I can stop them. Great. I probably look like a deer caught in headlights. Perfect sizzle reel material.

“Hey, Mia.” His voice cuts through everything else.

Dom appears at our side and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together like he’s done it a hundred times before, though it’s a first.

My fingers curl around his before I can second-guess it. And I hate how much I don’t want to let go.

He starts to lead me away, but Bodhi stops him, arm out like a barrier. “Sorry, no can do, my man. We’ve gotta get you ready for the ceremony.”

“You’re kidding me,” Dom grumbles.

“Afraid not.”

Bodhi slides into the space between us, and Dom has no choice but to let go of my hand. He glances over his shoulder, his gaze catching mine. “I’m sorry.”

And if I thought my stomach was doing weird things before, that one line lands like a punch. I don’t know if he’s apologizing for not getting time with me or for kissing Victoria.

Not that he owes me an apology for either. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

At the rose ceremony, he calls my name first. For the first time since that initial poisonous flower, he gives me another Hellebore—this one with its stem sealed in plastic. And this time, I don’t crush it beneath the sole of my heel.

Though part of me wants to. But the part clinging to hope wins out.

River gets sent home, and Victoria gets the last rose.

Just like that, the curse is broken.

And maybe so is my grip on pretending I don’t care.