Epilogue Two

Declan

Six Months Ago

Blood pumps in my ears, drowning everything else out. My chest is heaving from hustling across the ice to outpace my opponent, and the edges of my vision are blurry, but my gaze is locked on the net that’s still swishing from the force of my shot. I watch the puck intently like it’s going to come rushing back out at any second while I catch my breath. This training session has been brutal, but if going hard like this is what it takes to get me into the NHL, I’ll do it.

I may not have gotten into the league right out of college, but I’m not giving up. Not for anyone or anything.

“Holy shit, dude,” Finn laughs as he skates up from behind me. “That was intense. If there was a goalie there, they’d be dead.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing you decided not to play goalie today, huh?”

Finn chuckles and punches my arm. “That would’ve made it too hard for you to score.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Come on, let’s hit the showers and get out of here. You’ve busted your ass enough for one day. Save some of that juice for another time when you’ve got more of an audience than just little old me.”

I could keep going for at least another hour, but Finn’s right. If I overdo it, it might set me back for when it really counts. Or worse, I could get injured and knock myself out of the running for the league before I’ve even had the chance to show the scouts what I can do.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I mutter, and he smirks.

“Oh, believe me, I know. But saying ‘I told you so’ never gets old.” Finn leads the way off the ice, and I follow him into the locker room to get cleaned up.

“Look, bro, I know you’re serious about getting into the NHL and everything, but don’t you think you’re getting a little single-minded?” Finn asks me over the hiss of the shower as he steps into one of the stalls next to mine.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as I turn on the water and wait for it to warm.

“Nothing. It’s just, I don’t know, you’re really into it. It’s all you think and talk about anymore. I love the game as much as you do, but I can’t even remember the last time you and I hung out and didn’t spend the whole time playing or thinking about hockey. I think you need to relax a little. You know, blow off some steam or something. Get laid.”

I roll my eyes at him and step into the steaming water.

That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t lose your best shot at an NHL contract to years of taking care of a sick mom.

Finn is a good guy and a great practice buddy, but that doesn’t mean he always gets it. I love my mother, and I don’t resent the fact that I had to take time away from the game to be by her side, but there’s no denying that my budding hockey career fell through the cracks because of it. My whole life had been building toward getting signed out of college, but it didn’t happen. That’s why I’m so serious about it. Finn knows that, but he doesn’t always understand it.

I shake my head dismissively at him over the shower divider, and he freezes with his hands in his soapy hair, arching a brow at me.

“Come on,” he says. “You know I’m right. Again.” When I grudgingly shrug at him, he chuckles and adds, “Told you so. But you’re in luck because I know just the thing.”

“Famous last words.”

“No, I’m serious, dude. Listen, there’s this kink club hosting a special event tonight. It’s a black and white masquerade party. But, you know, with sex. I got an invite, but I can’t go. You should take my invite and go in my place. I’ll give you the code word to get in.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“What?”

“Do I really need to spell it out? A masquerade party. At a kink club. With a secret code word. Come on, bro, this is ridiculous, even for you.”

“I’m serious though!” Finn insists as he rinses off and reaches for the towel hanging over the stall. “Here, I’ll prove it.”

I can’t wait to see this, so I watch him cross the room to rummage in his locker for something. It takes him long enough that I can finish showering before he finds it, and he meets me just as I’m stepping out of the stall.

He thrusts a little business card out at me. It’s jet black with matching black text embossed in velvet that only spells out an address. “See?”

“What bar bathroom did you find this in?”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you? Fine. Don’t go. But don’t say I didn’t try to clue you in when you find out you missed the biggest party of your life.” I glare at him, and he sighs in frustration and presses the card into my hands. “These people are rich , bro. They do things right. The code word is ‘Satin,’ and you’d better not lose that card, or they aren’t gonna let you in. Trust me, just go.”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him just to get him off my case, although I’m still hung up on how cliché the code word is. “But wait, why can’t you go?”

“I’m going on a date, and I don’t think the lady would be happy about going to a sex party for our first time together. Speaking of, I’ve gotta get moving or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch you later. Let me know how the party goes!”

Without another word, Finn gets dressed, scoops his stuff up, and hurries out of the locker room. I stand there staring at the card in my hand and consider throwing it away now that he’s gone but can’t bring myself to do it. I tuck it into the outside pocket of my bag and get dressed instead, then leave the arena.

It’s always jarring walking out of the ice-cold rink into the San Diego heat, but the setting sun and gentle breeze feel good on my skin. I toss my bag in the passenger seat and start to head home, but my gaze keeps drifting to the card stuck in my bag’s pocket.

Damn it. Maybe Finn’s right—again. A little bit of a distraction from training could be good for me.

But I don’t have a mask at home, so even though I can’t believe I’m doing it and feel like I’m going to regret it, I stop at a department store on the way and pick up a generic black face mask to wear. At home, I slip into the only formal black suit I own and look up the location of this alleged kink club. It comes up on the map, so the building at least physically exists. But from the pictures of the outside, it doesn’t look like anything special. It’s just a boring, black building with all the windows blacked out.

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” I ask my reflection as I check the fit and lines of my suit. I tear open the mask I bought and give it a once-over. It’s pretty basic, but it’ll do the job, and it will cover enough of my face that no one I might know will recognize me.

I second-guess myself the whole drive over to the club, but it’s a short enough drive that I can’t talk myself out of it before I get there. Just like the pictures, the building’s totally nondescript, and I would’ve driven right past it if I hadn’t known what I was looking for. I drive around to the back and find dozens of some of the nicest, most expensive cars I’ve ever seen gathered in one place. Mine definitely sticks out.

Holy shit. Finn wasn’t lying.

I park far away from most of the other cars, put on my mask, and make my way to the back door where a couple of totally stacked bouncers are waiting on bar stools. But they’re both dressed in super nice suits and wearing masks too. Without greeting me, one of them reaches for the card in my hand and takes it to check it out. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do, so I just blurt out the code word. “Satin.”

The bouncer hands the card back to me and nods, then gets up to open the heavy, grated door for me.

“Enjoy,” he says, then closes the door behind me.

As soon as I enter a room that’s only dimly lit by candelabras and real flickering candles, I understand the code word. Red satin fabric adorns the furniture and walls, and the entire vibe of the place is luxurious and opulent. Everyone is well-dressed—some in more revealing outfits than others—and I glance around quickly, taking it all in.

There’s a bar in one corner of the large space, and doors leading to what I’m assuming are private rooms. There are some small bar tables with stools placed around them, as well as soft-looking couches and settees. Everyone is masked, and while some people are just talking quietly over the sultry jazz music playing from somewhere, others are grouped up, kissing and groping each other. I pick up the sounds of a few soft moans from nearby, although I can’t quite tell where they’re coming from.

“Hey there, handsome,” a woman murmurs to me as I pass, reaching out to trail her fingers lightly over my arm.

“Um, hi,” I tell her, giving her a polite nod but no more attention than that.

Her bright red lips turn down into a pout beneath her mask, and I chuckle softly as I make my way through the dimly lit space.

I guess it’s easy to be bold when you know everyone came here for the same thing .

The idea of falling into the vibe of this place, of letting loose for a night like so many people around me are doing, makes my blood heat a little. Everything in this place radiates sex and sensuality, and it’s been longer than I’d like to admit since I got laid.

But still, with every step I take, guilt knots tighter in my stomach. My hockey career is the most important thing to me, and I already fell behind once. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, letting Finn talk me into this. I should’ve just stayed at the arena and kept working on my drills without him. Every damn second counts, and I definitely don’t have time to waste a day tomorrow if I’m too tired or hung over to practice.

Blowing out a breath, I turn around to leave—but as I do, I end up colliding with a woman who was walking right behind me. She stumbles, and my hands instinctively fly out to catch her. She laughs breathlessly as I help steady her.

“Sorry! I guess this is what I get for paying more attention to what’s going on around me than to where I’m going,” she says, her voice soft and melodic. She hesitates, then adds, “This is the first time I’ve been to a place like this.”

I know I should say something in response, but for a moment, I’m struck completely dumb. With my hands still resting lightly on her bare arms, I gaze down at her, unable to stop myself.

Even with the upper half of her face covered by a black mask, she’s gorgeous. She’s close to a foot shorter than me, with dark hair that tumbles down around her shoulders, and the deep red dress she’s wearing clings to her soft, delicate curves. Her eyes are mismatched—one blue and one green—and she even smells amazing, like a mixture of jasmine and orange blossoms.

“Uh, yeah, that makes two of us,” I finally say, my words a bit stilted because she’s making it hard to think.

“Really?” She bites her plush bottom lip, dragging it between her teeth. “It’s kind of nice to know I’m not the only one. I’ve always wanted to explore kink, but this is the first time I’ve worked up the nerve. I figured there’s no better first time than when everyone’s wearing a mask and won’t remember you, right?”

She laughs softly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. I know she’s joking, but for some reason, the thought of any other man touching her makes a strange possessiveness flare up inside me.

“I wasn’t sure what to wear either,” she adds, shaking her head ruefully and making her brown hair glint in the light. “I probably tried on seven different things before I picked this dress, and I’m still not sure it’s the right choice. I wish there was some kind of step-by-step guide for this sort of thing—although actually, there probably is, somewhere. I just don’t know where to find it. And I?—”

She breaks off, wincing. “Oh god. I’m babbling, aren’t I? Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” I tell her, the words coming a little more easily this time. “You look beautiful.”

A gorgeous pink flush creeps up her cheeks, disappearing beneath the mask, and she ducks her head almost shyly. “Thank you.”

She looks up at me again, and for a moment, our gazes lock. She doesn’t speak, and neither do I.

I still haven’t dropped my hands from where they’re wrapped lightly around her upper arms, and the feel of her skin beneath my palms, combined with the soft moans and sighs around us, makes me very aware of where we are. Of what this place is.

“Did you come here with someone?” she asks in a low voice, and my pulse jumps.

“No.” I shake my head quickly, still holding her gaze. “Did you?”

“No.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “Would you like to get a drink or something? Or—” She frowns, glancing at the door behind her, where I was headed before I bumped into her. “I’m sorry. Were you leaving?”

Right. I was about to go home .

All of the reasons I was about to leave still apply. I need to get up early tomorrow, and I need to stay focused on hockey. Despite what Finn said, taking a break from my training was never really part of my plans.

But still, as I gaze down into the most mesmerizing eyes I’ve ever seen, I find myself shaking my head.

“Actually, no,” I say honestly. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”