Page 35 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

THIRTY-THREE

Not a cuddler, my ass.

I wake up like I do most mornings: on my stomach. What I’ve never had is Mia sprawled across my back, clinging to me like a human backpack.

Her cheek rests between my shoulder blades, her warm breath fanning across my skin. One arm wraps around me, her hand spread over my chest, while her leg drapes across my hips.

I glance over my shoulder because I need a mental picture of this moment. Her dark brown hair spills across my back and neck. Her eyelids twitch. Her lips are slightly parted.

My cock twitches, and I can’t stop the press of my hips into the mattress.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

What the hell?

Mia jolts awake. She freezes when she realizes how we’re tangled, and I stay perfectly still. Let her keep her protective denial.

She slowly slides her hand out from under me and rolls onto her back as the knocking continues.

A minute later, her finger taps my shoulder. “Dom.” Her voice is still thick with sleep. She jostles me again. “Someone’s here.”

I roll over, and I don’t miss the way her eyes dart to my crotch.

I check the time on my nightstand. 6:15 a.m. Too early for production.

More knocking, this time accompanied by a voice. “Fox, I know you’re in there.”

Logan.

“Shit,” Mia mutters.

I press a kiss to her bare shoulder and pull her closer. He can wait a minute.

“I’m going to tell him,” I say evenly.

Her eyes widen, then snap to mine. “Tell him what?”

“That I like you. And we’re dating.”

“We’re trying to date,” she corrects.

“Yeah, sure. That .”

She gives a small, resolute nod. “Okay.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m going to get him to the rink. I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab a car back to the hotel. Tell the girls I spent the night with my brother—like I was supposed to.” She eases out of bed, and I enjoy the view as she slips out of the oversized shirt I lent her and back into her dress.

“If that’s what you want.” I sit at the end of the bed. Pulling her in, I slide the strap that slipped off her shoulder back into place. I kiss her because now I can. The kiss lingers, and it takes effort to pull away.

When I finally do, she doesn’t look away. Her eyes are soft, uncertain, but still stubborn.

The knocking starts again. I sigh and sit up, tugging on a pair of gym shorts.

I head downstairs, run a hand through my hair, and open the back door. Logan is standing there, fist raised, mid-knock. He drops it when he sees me.

“Dude,” I grumble. “It’s too early for this.”

“Mia didn’t come home last night,” he says, like he already knows she must be here.

“She’s here,” I confirm. No point in making him worry.

His brows pull together, but I don’t give him the chance to start interrogating me. “I’m going to take a piss and brush my teeth. I’ll meet you in your garage in ten.”

“Fine.” He turns to leave, but only makes it a few steps before glancing back. “But you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on with my sister.”

I give him a short nod and close the door. I didn’t expect him to be okay with this right away, not after getting blindsided. Love the guy, but he’s a Type A overthinker. And I get the protectiveness. If I had siblings, I’d feel the same.

Mia rounds the corner into the kitchen. “I don’t envy you for that task.”

I chuckle. “I might be doing the heavy lifting, but there’s no way he’s not going to grill you as well.”

“True.”

She opens a few cabinets until she finds a glass, then fills it with water from the fridge. I love having her in my space, looking like she belongs here.

“Oh, call your dad,” she adds. “He seemed really worried.”

I nod. “I will.”

I call Mia a cab using the landline. Guess my dad was right about not canceling it—even if its only real use is when production bans cell phones. I’ll be shutting it off the second this show wraps. No way I’m doing this again.

I walk her to the door and kiss her goodbye. I miss her the second she’s gone, even though I’ll see her in a few hours.

When I slide into the passenger seat of Logan’s Land Rover, I cut to the chase. “I like Mia.”

He side-eyes me. “Of course you do, but we’ll wait for the others.”

I assume he means our other teammates scheduled to film with us today: King, Helm, and Volkov. “What, you need a judge, jury, and executioner?”

“I’m not sure which you think each of us is, but… yeah, sure.”

Okay. Not exactly comforting.

But at least I’ve got the twenty-minute drive to figure out what the hell I’m going to say.

Truth is, I haven’t thought much past last night. I’ve been too caught up in the high of being with her. Of finally being allowed to want us out loud. Even if we’re both still figuring out what we are.

Trying to date . That’s what she called it.

But try or not, I’m in. She took what should’ve been a train wreck and somehow made it into one of the best nights of my life.

My time avoiding this conversation with my best friend is over.

How do I explain all this to Logan? That I’m not just looking out for her anymore? That whatever’s happening between Mia and me is real. Or at least, I want it to be. Even if it’s messy as hell. Even if I’m still standing next to three other women on camera every week.

Yeah. No version of that conversation ends well.

And even if he gives his blessing… how are Mia and I supposed to build anything real in the middle of this? How am I supposed to kiss her goodnight, then pretend I’m falling for someone else the next day?

How do I ask Logan to be okay with it when I’m not?

I don’t have an answer. Maybe my best friend does. He’s a chronic planner, and I need his help to map a way through the end of the show. One that ends with me leaving with Mia.

But first, I need his approval.

At the rink, Logan not-so-subtly nudges me out of the car. Time’s up.

He doesn’t wait for what I’m sure will be a captive audience—our teammates—before turning to me. “You two are terrible liars, by the way. You gave me shit about how gone I was for Hannah? Meanwhile, you’re practically the heart-eyes emoji anytime Mia is in the room.”

“We’re not lying to you,” I tell him.

He drops his duffel by the bench and sits, pulling out his gear with his usual methodical precision. I follow suit.

I’m tired of skirting around it, and I could use my friend’s support. Even if he’s not thrilled about me and Mia, Logan’s rational. He wants what’s best for the people he loves.

The real question is whether he thinks I’m what’s best for her.

He peels tape from a fresh roll and starts wrapping the heel of his stick. “When did this start? Did I miss something?”

“Nah. Not until the show. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed her more this last year, but I didn’t think it was a real possibility.”

He finishes the toe wrap, ripping the tape as he looks over. “Not until the show?”

I nod. “Nothing happened between us. Not until last night.” I keep going before he can cut in. “I really like her.” Like is an understatement, but it’s a start.

“You like her? And she likes you ? Like actual feelings, Fox? Or like you want to… I can’t even say it in reference to my sister, it’s too weird.

” He cringes, shoving his feet into his skates.

“Please help me out here. What are you actually after? Because we’ve met your other three girlfriends this week. ”

I don’t answer him right away. My gaze drops to my own skates. That tight knot in my chest returns—the one that shows up every time I think about how complicated this has all become.

Logan ties his skates.

I blow out a breath. “It’s not about that. And they’re not my actual girlfriends, man. This whole show is nothing like it looks on television?—”

He snorts. “Well, that’s a big surprise.”

I rake a hand through my hair, watching Volk, King, and Helm screw around on the ice. “I know, I know. It was naive of me to think any of this would be easy or the fairytale they sell on TV… but it’s worked out because I found something better.”

“And Mia is the something better ?”

“She is.”

He shakes his head. “You made a Saints Sinners group. You called me a Settler.”

“Maybe I want to join the Settlers club.”

“Maybe?” Logan lifts a brow.

“I do.”

He stands, waiting for me to finish lacing up. “Do you have a plan?”

“No.” I huff. “I’m not you. I don’t have a plan for everything.”

“You might benefit from one,” he mutters.

“I could use your help with that.” I rise to meet his eyes. “So, do I have your approval?”

He studies me. “Does it matter either way?”

I consider his question. I respect Logan. I love him like a brother. But I already know there’s no version of this where I walk away from exploring whatever this thing is with Mia.

“Sorry, but no.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” His tone softens, but the warning stays.

“I love you, man, but if you hurt her… embarrass her on national television… we’re going to have a problem.

I know she’s got a prickly exterior, but she’s softer than she lets on.

She’s a pain in my ass, but she’s my sister.

I don’t want to see her hurt. Especially not by my best friend. ”

“I know.”

I may not be an expert at this relationship stuff, but Mia Matthews is giving me a chance…

So, I’ll figure it out.

For her.

“All right. Well, let’s get out there,” Logan says, already heading toward the ice.

“Is this where I get my sentencing?” I joke just before we reach the other guys.

He laughs quietly, and I take that as a good sign.

That went as well as it could have. Having his support, a friend to vent to, lifts a weight from my shoulders. It gives me the push I need to figure this out.

On the ice, no surprise, Volk hangs back at the edge of the group. I skate over to him first and pull him into a tight hug.

“Missed you, bud.”

“Umph. I don’t blame you,” he grumbles, but he hugs me back.

I move behind King and grab both his shoulders, giving him a playful jostle. “Good to see you, man. I was starting to think you’d forgotten how to skate.”