Page 8 of You’re The One (Saints Hockey #2)

EIGHT

Aren’t mansions this big supposed to have, like, twenty bathrooms?

How have I been wandering around the first floor for ten minutes and still not found one?

Okay, fine—I did stop in the kitchen to top off my champagne and maybe got a little distracted checking out what kind of snacks they’ve stocked for us.

I’m heading down the only hallway I haven’t explored, glass in hand, when a blur of movement suddenly catches my eye. Before I can react, an arm snakes around my waist and yanks me back.

A scream builds in my throat, but it never escapes, muffled by a large, scratchy hand clamped tightly over my mouth.

Darkness swallows me when my attacker steps into a closet and kicks the door shut.

Warm breath skates across my cheek. “Shh.” What should be a soft, comforting sound comes out sharp. “It’s me. We need to talk.”

What. The. Fuck.

Dominic releases my waist, but his hand slides down my thigh. I stop the movement with a quick backward kick to his shin.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, shaking out the leg I nailed. My heel to his shin probably hurt like hell. Good.

“Goddammit, Mia! I was looking for your mic pack,” he mutters. “Please be reasonable.”

Doesn’t he know that telling a woman to be reasonable is the fastest way to make sure she won’t be?

But he makes a good point. I reach for the mic pack clipped beneath my dress, pressing and holding the button until the tiny red light blinks out.

Night one, and I’m already breaking the rules… though, what do I have to lose? It’s not like Dominic is going to keep me around that long. I’d be shocked if I made it past the elimination tonight.

I spin too fast, and whatever champagne hadn’t already splashed onto the floor now sloshes out of my glass and over the front of his button-down.

“Mia,” he grates.

I can barely make out his shape, but just picturing his angry face is enough to make laughter bubble out of me. Everyone else can have his smiles. I’ll take the scowl. I try to muffle the sound with my hands but end up smacking his chin instead.

“Fuck, woman.”

I hear more than I can see: the scratch of his stubble as he rubs his jaw. Serves him right.

“What is this even about?” I gesture around the cramped space, though I doubt he can track the movement.

“We need to talk without mics or cameras, and that’s almost impossible.”

As my eyes adjust, his silhouette comes into focus. Then our surroundings. We’re in some kind of coat closet, though, this being California and a film set, it’s mostly piles of boxes.

He clears his throat. “I have a proposition.”

“A proposition?” Skepticism drips from every syllable.

He nods. “I want you to stay.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

“Sorry… go on.”

“We both came here with plans… very different plans, but they’re both valid.”

“Is that maturity I’m hearing? Didn’t think you had it in you.” I prop a hand on my hip. Hopefully, his eyes have adjusted enough to see my annoyance.

Getting caught in a coat closet with the bachelor? Yeah, not exactly the vibe I’m going for. Talk about painting a target on my back for the other women—never mind the repercussions from production. No thanks. I’m trying to fly under the radar here.

He ignores the jab. “So, we should support each other. That’s what Lo?—”

Is Dominic even capable of making a decision without Ryan’s approval?

Ryan this. Ryan that .

I’m pretty sure the only reason he tolerates my presence is because of some allegiance to his friend.

“I’m going to help you stay, get the full vacation experience. In exchange…” he continues.

Ah. There it is.

“…you help me.”

I frown. “With what?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ll be my spy.”

“Your… spy?”

“Back to repeating?” he quips, shifting his weight until his shoulder hits the wall. He leans there like he’s posing for a photographer, not pitching me a half-baked, one-sided deal.

“Apparently so. Explain… maybe quicker, so we can get out of this tiny closet.”

“Oh, do tight spaces bother you?” He takes in the space for the first time. If he spread his arms, he could probably touch both walls. “Claustrophobic?”

“Maybe you should’ve asked that question…” I glance at my non-existent watch. “Oh, I don’t know, ten minutes ago?”

“We’ve been in here ten minutes?” He lifts his wrist, the glow from his actual watch lighting up his furrowed brows and stupid face.

“Focus, Dominic!”

“You’re the one getting sidetracked.” He lets out a breath and drops his arms to his sides. “I need someone on the inside. Not all these girls are here to find love. I need help figuring out who’s real. You help me, I help you.”

When I stay silent, he adds, “Let’s call it matchmaking. You’ll help me find the one .”

I blink at him, surprised he honestly cares that much. I still don’t fully buy it. I’m sure this holier-than-thou act will fade the second the women start throwing themselves at him.

“So, I get a flower every week, and in exchange, I get the full-time job of playing matchmaker?”

He shrugs. “When you put it like that…”

“I want something else. A better deal.” I scramble for a bargaining chip, but I come up empty. I’ve never been good under pressure.

“All right. What do you want?”

“An IOU. No expiration date. When I call it in, you accept. Think of it as a future addendum to our contract that you can’t dispute.”

He scratches his chin again. “Fine. Deal.”

“Great.” I reach for the doorknob. “I’ll consider your proposition.”

His hand closes over mine before I can press down. His palm is warm, firm, and most importantly, stopping me from opening the door.

“Wait, what?” His voice pitches up.

“I said I’ll think about it.”

“So, you just negotiated with me and now you’re backing out?”

“Shouldn’t you know all about negotiations? Haven’t you signed a few contracts in your time?”

He grins. “Aw. I’m flattered you keep up with my career, la mia fiamma .”

“So, what am I supposed to do at the ceremony tonight?”

I lift my chin. “I guess you’ll have to make your decision without knowing whether I’m going to help you or not.”

He studies me for a second, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m bluffing.

“You’re really gonna leave me hanging?”

“Pretty sure that’s what you signed up for.” I nod toward the door. “Drama. Uncertainty. Emotional chaos. All the good stuff.”

The real question is, do I want to stick around for it?

I came here looking for an escape, but I didn’t realize the price might be higher than the reward. Then again, throwing Dominic off his game? Worth the trip out here, whether I’m leaving tonight or not.

He lets out a low laugh. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only when necessary.”

He shakes his head. Then we hear footsteps. Dominic brings a finger to his lips in a barely audible “shh.”

Two sets of footsteps pause outside the door.

Bodhi’s voice comes through, muffled. “Hey, Summer, have you seen Dominic? The ceremony’s about to start.”

“Nope, but I’m heading that way now. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Thanks. Maybe I missed him outside. Let me come with you. Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight…”

Summer’s laugh carries. “You’re way too much, my friend,” she echoes what I’m thinking. I’ve known Bodhi less than a week, and I’ve already pegged him as a shameless flirt. I wonder if he’s ever auditioned to be the one in Dominic’s shoes? He’d fit the part.

Their voices fade as the footsteps retreat.

“Let’s get out of here.” I pull open the door, and this time, Dominic lets me. Light spills in, momentarily blinding me. “I’ll see you out there.”

I’m already halfway down the hall when Dominic calls after me, “But are you gonna say yes, if I give you a flower tonight?”

I glance over my shoulder, meeting his eyes. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”

He chuckles and mutters something that sounds a lot like “brat.”