In an effort not to moon a room full of people, I moved like an octogenarian and slipped on the leggings Em brought me before I got out of bed. I don’t care how much Mase was enjoying seeing my ass waving in the wind thanks to my highly fashionable hospital gown—I was over it.
With a deep breath, I peel the gown from my body and set it on the counter. Thankful Em had the foresight to grab one of my sports bras that zips closed in the front, I get the girls secured and carefully finish dressing in a black Death Before Decaf tee. A smile tugs at my lips—I’m surprised Em didn’t try to steal this one for herself.
By the time I step out of the bathroom, the number of occupants in the room has grown by three. A brooding Carter King is holding up the wall with his leather-jacket-clad arms folded over his chest while he periodically casts a glare at G and Em talking with their heads bent close on the couch. Outside of giving him a chin tip in hello, I don’t pay him much mind, instead sending my focus to the other two new arrivals: Jordan Donovan and her business partner Skye Masters. I remember Jordan mentioning something about Skye flying in to help manage everything, but her being here has my gut clenching.
“How are you feeling?” Jordan’s bright grin should put my mind at ease, but it doesn’t.
“Outside of feeling like I went a few rounds with Vince Steele?” I say, referring to the current UFC Light Heavyweight Champ. “Not too bad.”
“Oof, don’t say that too loud here—Vicki might overhear,” Skye says, pointing to her ear with a manicured finger, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. I haven’t had many interactions with the other half of ATS—Jordan mostly handles E’s PR needs—but I can tell she’s a ballbuster.
“Vicki?” Who’s Vicki?
“The nurse from the ER?” Mase asks, holding out a hand to me as I pad my way across the room to him.
“Yeah.” Jordan exchanges a look with Skye I can’t get a read on, almost as if they’re sharing a secret. “Vicki—or Mama Steele”—she emphasizes the last name—“is Vince’s mom. It’s because I put up with the ridiculousness her son and my wombmate get into that I was able to convince her to pull strings for you all to stay with Kay here.”
Mase’s jaw drops, and I poke a finger under it so he can stop looking like a fish. I’ve always found it entertaining whenever he makes comments about how nonchalant I am about being around E and his teammates. Jordan Donovan? She’s the definition of blasé when it comes to famous connections.
“Aw…” Skye bends an elbow onto Jordan’s shoulder, leaning into her. “It’s cute you think being a star athlete is what got you preferential treatment.”
“Don’t be mean.” Jordan taps Skye in the stomach with a playful backhand. “You know their status helps.” She shrugs her free shoulder. “We just know how to leverage it better.”
I pause and take a moment to study the hockey queen. She might have a point. Since she pointed out the whole media darling angle Mase and I have going for us, I wonder if maybe I should leverage it to use the press to my advantage for the first time ever.
Now’s not the time, though. There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air that wasn’t here when I went to change. I felt it when I first came out of the bathroom and saw the new arrivals. No more. I need to confront this head-on.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the room, cutting to the chase.
“What makes you think there’s anything wrong?” E evades.
“Oh…I don’t know,” I drawl sarcastically. “Maybe because you all stopped talking the second I opened the door. Or, you know”—I thrust an arm in the direction of Carter, ignoring the twinge from all my bruises—“the fact that King is randomly here.”
“To be fair”—Carter smooths a hand over the black beanie on his head—“I was here when you were admitted.”
“And I’m sure it was only because my sister was with your sister when she got the call about what happened.”
There’s a tiny twitch to his lips, so small you would miss it if you weren’t paying close enough attention, before he shakes it off like it’s irrelevant.
I let him have it and focus on my next point. “There’s also the fact that not just Jordan is here, but Skye too. You spent most of yesterday at ATS—there’s no more strategic planning that could possibly be done. If they are here, it means they are reacting to something.”
Again, everyone looks at each other instead of answering me. It’s annoying as hell.
“There’s a bunch of press outside the hospital,” E says through his teeth.
My head falls forward, and one of Mase’s arms wraps behind my back to tuck me close to his side.
And the media circus begins.
Neither E nor B has made a statement since the pictures were leaked of them being here and confirming the reason why they missed yesterday’s game. If the press is already circling for a simple comment, what the hell would they do if they learned the details of how I ended up here in the first place?
“So we’ve come up with a brilliant plan.” B claps his hands and rubs them together.
“You only think it’s brilliant because you came up with it.” E proves he’s my brother by rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be salty, bruh.” B taps E’s cheeks before pinching them until E’s lips pucker and pushes his face from side to side. “You just get that million-dollar smile of yours ready to distract the cameras so Little D can sneak off undetected.”
That’s their plan? I swing my gaze back to King by the door. “Yes, Dennings.” He nods. “That’s why I’m here. Your brother wants me for my Speed Racer skills.”
“I’d say you’re more The Fast and the Furious than anything else.”
“Always the smartass,” Mase whispers, a bolt of heat darting down my spine at the feel of his lips brushing along the shell of my ear. “I thought I was the only one you gave shit to.”
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Caveman?” I tease.
“Nope.” He nips at my ear. “I know you’re mine.”
I could never tell him because it would only encourage him, but I do love his possessive side at times.
“There’s also—” G’s words get cut off by Em smacking her hand over his mouth with a “Not the time.” I eye her, curious, but she only gives me a shake of her head. I’ll have to remember to ask her what that was all about later.
Jordan and Skye lay out the details of B’s—hold on, let me mentally roll my eyes—brilliant plan. E and B will go out the front, drawing the attention of any of the vultures lying in wait. Just in case anyone is looking, Em will pretend—not all that hard, mind you—to be me with a hoodie shielding her face while Bette and G escort her to E’s Escalade. It’s not much, but it should hopefully buy us enough time for Mase and me to sneak out the employee entrance where King will be waiting for us with the Royals’ Camaro.
Mase smirks, his dimples coming out to play as I accept the hoodie G brought with him from the AK house. Always wanting his name on me. He crouches in front of where I sit on the lowered hospital bed, his long fingers slipping inside the collar of the sweatshirt to free my trapped hair. His features soften as he looks at me adoringly, his thumbs coming up to stroke along my jaw.