Page 5 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

FIVE

What is she doing here?

She’s in front of me way too fast, not giving me a chance to center my thoughts. Did she know when I announced it at the housewarming party? Her conversation with Bodhi suddenly takes on new meaning… and so does his “favorite” comment.

Did she come here to fuck with me? Did production set this up to do the same?

The questions come faster than I can come up with answers.

I realize my jaw is unhinged and snap it shut.

When I finally meet her gaze, she’s already looking up at me expectantly. Her lips are moving.

“What did you say?” I ask, voice rough.

Why isn’t anyone yelling “cut”?

This can’t be what they’re going for. While I’ve been giving suave bachelor so far, the last however-many minutes have been full-on floundering fish.

“Hi, I’m Mia.” She’s clearly repeating herself, her brows lifted like she’s trying to prompt me.

I consider asking what the hell she’s doing here, but I doubt that follows the script. Instead, I awkwardly stick out my hand. “Fox. Dominic Fox.”

Why did I full name her?

She grips my hand firmly, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “Matthews. Mia Matthews.”

She places a windbreaker into my other hand, and it’s only then that I realize her hand is still in mine. I drop it like it’s on fire and clutch the crinkly fabric with both hands.

She clears her throat and mumbles, “That’s for you. Because I’m from the Windy City. Are you ready to be blown away?”

She cringes as she finishes the line, which gives me a jolt of satisfaction. I bite my lip to contain the chuckle pushing to escape and toss the windbreaker over my shoulder.

“Didn’t they tell you? Chicago’s my home, too. Look at that, we already have something in common.”

So much in common .

“Looks like we do.”

We stand there awkwardly, me cataloging her features like I’ve never seen them before, and her shooting me that challenging glare she always does.

A throat clears off-camera, reminding me I’m supposed to wrap things up and send her inside.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know you better,” I try to mimic whatever line I’ve been using for the last two-dozen women.

Another throat clears. Oh, right, there’s supposed to be a hug or something.

I step forward and open my arms for the world’s most uncomfortable embrace.

Her whole body tenses as we make contact.

You’d think I was contaminating her with leprosy rather than offering her a friendly hug.

Almost as soon as we make contact, she pulls back and immediately stumbles, her heel catching on the stone patio.

I steady her with a hand on her elbow before she pivots and shuffles through the front door of the mansion.

Fuck .

“Fuck,” one of the producers echoes my thoughts, followed by a sharp, “Cut!”

I spin around, eyes scanning for Bodhi. Or what’s the producer’s name again? The one in charge. Emery? Emmett?

“Emile,” Bodhi calls, already trailing after him, somehow unable to keep up with the other man’s clipped stride. Emile, right. That’s it.

He looks like he’s on a mission to chew me out for that disaster of a performance. So much for my budding acting career.

I cut him off before he can say a word. “Did you know about…” I start, gesturing vaguely toward the mansion Mia just disappeared into, “that?”

Emile crosses his arms. “Of course we did. What kind of production do you think we’re running? We thoroughly vet all the contestants.”

“So, you set me up?”

He has the audacity to look offended. “My goal is to deliver a compelling, drama-filled viewing experience.”

“I thought the goal was to help me fall in love.”

“That too.”

“Well, I can tell you right now it won’t be her . Add her to the list of girls going home tonight.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emile begins, holding up his hands. “Let’s not be hasty.”

“Does Logan even know she’s here?”

His brows pull together.

“Ryan Logan. Her stepbrother. Does he know?” I clarify.

There’s no way Logan would let his baby sister come on this show, especially as I’m the one she’d be dating.

We’ve known each other since he signed with the Saints.

He was there through the whole Saints Sinners, my group for the single guys on the team, a club he was once a part of. He’s seen too much.

And besides, I don’t want to date Mia.

My mind flashes to the image of her exposed back, the curve of her spine, the dimples just above?—

I shake my head hard. No. Absolutely do not want to date Mia. Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll start believing it. What is up with me tonight?

“I need to talk to him. Bodhi, can you get me my phone?”

He starts walking, but Emile stops him with a firm hand to the shoulder, keeping his eyes on me. “You know that’s against the rules, Dominic.”

I give him a flat look. “Pretty sure blindsiding me with my best friend’s little sister breaks a rule or two, so let’s call this an even trade.”

Emile tilts his head side to side, weighing his options, before finally releasing Bodhi with a wave. “Fine. But on one condition: you can’t send her home tonight.”

I hesitate for all of three seconds. I don’t have much leverage here, and it’s not like I can’t send her home in a day or two.

I nod and take off without another word, not giving him the chance to change his mind.

I’m too overwhelmed to figure out how I feel about Mia being here. But I definitely don’t like that production caught me off guard. It’s only day one, and already, it’s obvious what their priority is: putting on a good show.

Back in my trailer, I call Logan as soon as Bodhi drops my phone into my palm.

He answers on the third ring, his chuckle overlapping with a higher-pitched giggle. Great, speakerphone with him and Hannah.

“Dominic,” she greets, cheerful as ever.

“Hey,” I say, clipped.

“Oh no, what’s wrong? Wait, aren’t you supposed to be filming?” she asks.

“Giving up already?” Logan adds.

I get straight to the point. “Did you know Mia was going to be here?”

A collective “Huh,” comes through the speaker—Hannah’s confused, Logan’s alarmed.

“Your sister,” I clarify. “She’s here. On the show. One of the women I’m supposed to date. Did you know?”

There’s some shuffling, and when Logan speaks again, it’s off speakerphone. “No, I didn’t know. I can’t say I’m shocked though… sounds like something she’d do.”

“Try to date me?”

“No, idiot. Sign up for another wild experience. Get a free vacation. Shirk actual adult responsibilities for a bit longer.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah.”

“So, what’re you gonna do?”

I pace the short width of the trailer. “You’re not gonna demand I send her home?”

There’s a beat of silence. I picture him shrugging. “I know you were serious about this whole thing. If having her there screws with that, maybe it’s for the best. But… would it?”

Well, this is taking a turn I didn’t expect. Logan actually wants her to stay? Why the hell does he want that? He’s seen the show. It’s not the kind of environment you’d want your younger sister in. I know I wouldn’t, if I had one.

“You’re asking if I’ll actually date her?”

“Hell no,” he blurts. “But you wouldn’t want to, right? I mean, she’s almost a decade younger than you, and she’s… Mia.”

“Nope,” I say a tad too quickly.

“So then, what’s the harm?”

“I just didn’t expect you to be so… cool about it. Figured you’d have her on the next flight home.”

Another pause. This one heavier. “She’s had a rough stretch lately. Maybe a break will be good for her. But I get this is your shot at something real. So, if you need to send her home, that’s also okay.”

A rough stretch? Since when?

Ninety percent of the time, Logan talks about Mia like she’s a coddled princess, a spoiled brat with their parents wrapped around her finger.

He says it lovingly, of course. And he enables her, too.

I’ve seen him Venmo her money more times than I can count when she’s off…

doing whatever it is she does. Vacations.

Random odd jobs. Crashing with friends. Visiting family.

According to him, she’s always on the move. One of those people who can’t sit still long enough to put down roots, let alone commit. Not exactly the prime candidate for a dating show. Even if I weren’t the bachelor.

So why the hell did she sign up?

And again, what rough stretch ? Her life sounds pretty cushy to me. Two parents who love and support her. The freedom to do whatever she wants. No job tying her down. I love playing hockey, don’t get me wrong, but that? That sounds pretty nice.

Something doesn’t add up. There’s got to be a piece I’m missing. I’ve never noticed anything off about her, other than her attitude. Granted, before this summer, I’d only seen her a couple of times a year since Lo joined the team.

“Is there something I should know? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” He doesn’t sound convincing. Great. Just what I need, a reason to worry about her.

“Can you give me more than that…”

“It’s not my place,” he replies eventually.

“Fine.” I exhale. “How’s everything back home? I probably won’t be able to call again for a while, not until we’re in Chicago in a couple of weeks.”

“All good here. Unless you count the litter of puppies whose mission in life seems to be pissing on every rug we own. At least they’re cute, and they make Hannah happy.

She’s already got homes lined up for three of them once they’re old enough to leave their mom.

Now she’s trying to convince me to keep the runt. The little dude’s growing on me.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’re adopting another dog?”

If I know anything about Logan, it’s that he’ll do anything to put a smile on that woman’s face—he bought her a damn brownstone. One more dog is nothing.

“Probably,” he admits, like I knew he would.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Bodhi giving me the universal wrap-it-up signal.

“Lo, I’ve gotta go.”

“Fox—” There’s a pause. “If you let her stay… can you just keep an eye on her?”

“Yeah, man. I’ve got her.”