17. Morgan

17

MORGAN

“Why didn’t you tell me who your dad is?” Dane murmurs in my ear to avoid being heard by the McQueens.

The husband and wife are discussing which hockey players they want to speak with before the night ends. They’ve followed the sport their whole lives, and being here tonight is a dream come true for them.

Mr. McQueen grew up with my dad. They played hockey at the same university, but Mr. McQueen wasn’t a starter. When school ended, he returned to their hometown and started coaching kids’ leagues. His wife is a big-shot hedge fund manager. The couple visited my family at least once a year while I was growing up. I view them as a pseudo-aunt and uncle.

My face is innocent as I take a sip of water from the crystal glass in front of me. “What do you mean?”

Dane narrows his baby blues. “Don’t play with me, Caldwell. You know exactly what I mean.”

His growly voice sends tingles to my toes. I’m not sure what’s happening to me. I turn into a puddle of lust at every little thing Dane does. I want to kiss him—bad. I’ve never desired someone like this.

I was with Aaron for years, but I’ve never lusted after him the way I lust after Dane. I never daydreamed about licking Aaron’s washboard abs or taking his cock in my mouth to watch him come undone for me.

Jesus, Morgan.

I will my blood to cool. I’m at a fancy event. I can’t have lewd thoughts tumbling around my head, making me hot and bothered.

“Wait.” Dane straightens. “Does this mean you’re Canadian? Are you only with me to get a marriage visa? Is that why you agreed to fake date me in the first place?”

“Oh my god.” I slap his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.”

“That’s not a no.”

“No.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not Canadian. And even if I were, I would have zero interest in tricking you into marriage to get a visa. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but Canada is a nice country.”

Dane’s lips twitch. He starts to say something, but we’re interrupted.

“Danie? Is that you?” A feminine voice that sounds too high-pitched to be authentic says behind us.

I rotate in my seat and see a busty blonde in a pale pink gown approaching our table. Her hips sway, and her eyes are locked on the man beside me.

I glance at Dane, and my eyes widen as I take in his darkening expression. I’ve never seen him look so angry. Not even when I would make rude remarks or thinly veiled insults did Dane look anything but calm and collected. He’s usually so open and approachable. But now, his demeanor screams for this woman to keep her distance. She doesn’t.

“It is you.” The beautiful stranger stops behind Dane’s chair and smiles warmly, oblivious to the “back off” vibes rolling off the hockey player. “Hi, Dane!”

“Chelsea,” Dane grits through clenched teeth. He rises from his chair and faces her.

“How are you, Danie? It’s been years.” She waves a hand over his body. A massive engagement ring gleams under the chandelier’s light. “You look fantastic.”

Dane doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “Where’s Trey?”

Who’s Trey?

The blonde’s smile falters. “Oh. He’s around here somewhere. Probably with his dad.”

It seems impossible, but Dane’s body grows even more rigid.

Before I can wonder why, Chelsea shifts her attention to me. “Hi. I’m Chelsea.”

I stand and shake her manicured hand. “Hello. I’m Morgan.”

“I know.” She smiles brightly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I heard Dane had a girlfriend.” She looks between us. “And I saw pictures of you from the most recent playoff game.”

She’s talking about the photo the Ranchers’ media team posted of the stands where players’ families were seated in New Mexico. I’m confident I wasn’t tagged in the post. Chelsea would’ve had to snoop to figure out who I was.

“Oh,” I say, looking at Dane. His features are hard as stone. I don’t know what to make of it or how to make the tension around him go away. Clearly, he doesn’t want to talk to Chelsea. I don’t understand why she’s not taking the hint.

“There you are, babe.” A man with slick black hair sidles up to Chelsea and wraps a possessive hand around her waist as his dark eyes focus on Dane. “Larson. Nice to see you.”

Dane says nothing. But the tension I feel around him thickens to a stifling level.

Chelsea clears her throat. “Trey. This is Dane’s girlfriend, Morgan.”

Trey’s attention shifts to me. I fight the urge to scowl when his dark eyes trail over me, lingering for far too long to be polite on my breasts and hips. I want to take a hot shower to rid myself of the slimy sensation his gaze leaves behind.

“Nice to meet you, Morgan.”

An angry growl vibrates from Dane’s chest. “Watch yourself, Trey.”

The sleazy guy smirks at Dane. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Dane’s hands curl into fists.

I have no idea what’s going on right now, but I follow my gut instinct to get Dane as far away from his couple as possible.

“Excuse us.” I step forward, putting myself between Dane and Trey to thwart the promise of violence simmering between the two. “I see someone we need to say hello to.” I take Dane’s clenched hand and relax when he laces his fingers with mine.

I paste on a fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Chelsea.” I swallow bile before adding, “You, too, Trey.”

“The pleasure was all ours,” Trey replies, licking his lips.

Another growl rumbles in Dane’s chest.

I tug his hand and draw him away from the antagonizing stranger.

I wait until we’re several tables away before I look back over my shoulder. Chelsea stares at Dane’s retreating figure with a sad expression while Trey smirks. I’m not a violent person, but I itch to smack it off his face.

I turn around and glance up at Dane. Cautiously, I ask, “How do you know Trey?”

His nostrils flare. “We played hockey together.”

“In college?”

He nods.

We weave through the tables and head to the dark oak bar at the back of the ballroom. Bottles of wine were placed on the table during dinner, but those who prefer spirits could purchase them from the bar. I see several Ranchers players standing nearby with glasses of whiskey.

“Who is Trey’s dad?” I recall Dane’s reaction when Chelsea mentioned the man.

“The owner of the Glacier Kings.”

Whoa.

I try to lead us toward Dane’s teammates, hoping their company will help rid Dane of the foul mood he is in after seeing the couple. But Dane pivots and guides me to the double doors leading to the hotel’s lobby.

“Where are we going?”

“I need air.”

I bite my cheek. I should give Dane time to process whatever it is that’s upsetting him, but my curiosity gets the best of me. “How do you know Chelsea?”

The hand holding mine flexes. Dread knots my stomach. “We dated.”

Pieces of the puzzle start to fit together. “And now she’s engaged to Trey?”

“Yes.”

“And that… bothers you?” How long ago, exactly, did Chelsea and Dane date?

He snorts. “No. They deserve each other.”

My forehead furrows. “Then why are you so upset?”

Dane works his jaw from side to side. “Chelsea was my college sweetheart. I planned to propose to her senior year.”

I know Dane had a life before me. Hell, we aren’t even officially dating. Hearing he seriously dated someone to the point of considering marriage shouldn’t bother me. But it does—a lot.

My heels click against the lobby’s marble floor. Dane leads me to the hotel exit. The photographers for the event left a while ago, so we’ll have privacy outside.

I murmur a quiet thanks to the doorman holding the gold-framed door. Dane and I walk outside and down the sidewalk to our right. He doesn’t stop walking until we round the corner. When we’re no longer in view of the hotel, his shoulders sag with relief.

“What’s going on, Dane? I’ve never seen you so… upset.” The center’s personality is usually lighthearted and easygoing. The most serious I ever see him is during a game, practice, or training.

Dane huffs an unamused laugh. “Then you don’t know me well enough, Morgan.”

I try not to let the words sting.

I stay quiet, giving him time to figure out what, if anything, he wants to say next.

Seconds later, Dane’s nostrils flare with a heavy exhale. “Chelsea cheated on me with Trey. When I found out, she broke up with me and immediately started dating him.”

My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” The muscles in his cheek twitch. “I was pissed.”

And incredibly hurt, I imagine.

“But Chelsea acted so friendly… I can’t believe she came over to speak to you.” I do the math and guess that Dane and Chelsea broke up nearly ten years ago. That’s a long time, but I still wouldn’t have the nerve to approach an ex I cheated on the way Chelsea had.

Dane snorts. “Chelsea is only friendly when it suits her.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Chelsea has realized she hitched her wagon to an asshole who lives off his daddy’s money and chooses to cheat on her whenever it’s convenient for him.” Dane stares down the street, his eyes flickering between anger and frustration. “She tried to get back together after I went pro. She knew I’d be drafted but thought being with a team owner’s son would guarantee her future.”

He shrugs. “In a way, she did me a favor by cheating on me. I had no idea what a gold-digging monster she was.”

Wow.

“That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “It shouldn’t care, but I still get so pissed seeing them together.”

“I get it.”

Dane turns to me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I shove down the pain from my own experience with a cheating partner when it tries to bubble to the surface.

“Anyone who cheats on you is an idiot,” Dane declares with such vehemence I can only laugh. Otherwise, I might cry at how sincere he sounds.

“Thanks. The same goes for you, Dane.”

He snorts and looks away again. His shoulders hunch forward. “Hardly.”

What could make Dane think he deserved to be cheated on? Not even the worst romantic partners deserve that sort of betrayal. Ideally, people should end the relationship before allowing themselves to become the villains in the couple’s story. But I understand the world isn’t ideal.

“Let’s go back inside.” I rub my arms. “It’s cold out here.”

“You go ahead. I need a minute.”

I should do what he says. Dane is a big boy. If he says he needs a second to handle his emotions, I should give it to him.

But I can’t.

I can’t leave the typically enigmatic and good-natured man out here, angry, without at least attempting to help soothe some of his pain.

“I know what it’s like to be damaged by an ex.”

His head whips back to me. “You aren’t damaged.”

“Then you don’t know me well enough,” I repeat his earlier words with a grin.

He huffs.

“Listen, Dane.” I clear my throat, and my tone turns serious. “I know this thing between us isn’t exactly defined. We’re up in the air. And that’s okay. We can hit pause before?—”

“What are you talking about?” Dane straightens. “That’s the last thing I want.”

I give him a half smile. “I know, but maybe now is not the right time?—.”

“Morgan,” Dane growls. “Do us both a favor and shut up.”

Indignation ripples through me. I open my mouth to protest the rude command, but then Dane’s strong hands land on my waist and yank me into his body.

I gasp just before his lips find mine in a fierce, possessive kiss. The world around us burst into a symphony of color, and my entire body lights up with fireworks.