“I see you get your information from the same fake news sources as your boy Bishop.” It takes everything inside me not to get in his face. “But for the sake of the team and all, how about you just keep my name out of your mouth and we’ll be okay.”
“Aww, Donnelly, don’t like hearing about your man-whore ways?” I want nothing more than to knock the smarmy smile off his face. “From what I hear, being easy runs in your family. Must be a twin thing.”
That was a mistake. A big fucking mistake.
Every good intention I have is gone and I’m across the locker room in a flash. No one, no one gets to talk about my family, especially not my other half.
I get one solid shove in before arms wrap around my middle. Callahan, Harrison, and Ringquist hold me back, my rage so strong they barely manage.
I bite out each word. “Jordan—is—off—fucking—limits.”
Ringquist moves so I’ll have to go through him if I want to get at Fallon again. Taking on our veteran goalie is not in my top ten of things I ever want to do.
“Look, we get it. Bishop is your boy. No one”—he turns to level me with a look—“is going to hold that against you.”
Fallon scoffs, but Ringquist continues as if he didn’t.
“But the only way Jordan Donnelly-Donovan is talked about in this locker room is with respect.”
“I didn’t know your sister hyphenated?” Cali asks.
“She didn’t,” I answer, nostrils flaring, fists still clenched and wanting to strike.
“Not the time, Cali,” Ringquist growls, eyes never leaving Fallon.
The big Swede is tenser than I can recall ever seeing him. It makes sense; he’s one of the players on the team who has known my sister the longest. JD may have only been in the PR business for four years, but she’s worked with the Storm through the Garden of Dreams Foundation since our college days.
“Unless you want not only your new team but half the NHL looking to kick your ass, I’d suggest you learn that fast.” Ringquist’s threat is clear.
“Whatever.” Fallon shrugs off the players holding him back, smoothing the lapels of his suit jacket. “You guys are so touchy.”
Fucker.
Whatever. I don’t need this shit. I have a girlfriend to see.
Grabbing my gear bag, I push through the locker room doors and there she is. With adrenaline from what just went down still pumping through my veins, it only takes three steps and I’m in front of her. Another two and I have her backed up to the wall, hands cupping her face, fingers tangled in pink waves, mouth on hers.
There is nothing sweet about this kiss. It is primal and fierce. I want to lose myself inside her, forget about trades, dickhead teammates, playoff pressure, all of it.
She doesn’t shy away from my intensity, instead meeting me stroke for stroke, her tongue licking over the ball of my piercing.
I groan.
She sighs.
It’s a miracle I’m not dragging her into the locker room.
“You know, with the number of times I’ve walked in on you two making out, I feel like I’m a part of this relationship.” I drop my head to the wall at the sound of Cali’s voice. “Does that make us a throuple?”
“What the fuck is a throuple?” Why is this even a question that needs asking?
I lower Mels to the ground but keep her tucked against me.
“You know.” Cali waggles his eyebrows. “It’s a couple, but with three people.”
“Why do I feel like you’ve been spending too much time with Maddey?” Melody asks, and I could kiss her again.
“Aww, Mels,” Cali says. I shove off the arm he drops around her shoulders. “You really are becoming a Covenette.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
The idea should scare me, but it doesn’t. The girls “inducting” her into The Coven only proves she’s mine for keeps.
“No way. You Covenettes love me. Jase, on the other hand—”
“Mels?” The absolute last person I want saying my baby’s name calls it out from behind me.
Like the throuple Cali thinks we are, the three of us turn to face the locker room. The urge to introduce my fist to his fugly face is strong.
It only gets worse when Mels says, “Fallon?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I blink rapidly.
Clearly my eyes are playing tricks on me.
No.
No, no.
Nope. Just nope. There is no way Fallon is here. He’s supposed to be in Boston.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, taking the words right out of my mouth.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
This is bad. Really, really bad. How am I going to explain this? Jase is going to flip.
“I was traded.”
Shit! Why didn’t I pay attention to the trades? I knew the deadline passed and that the Storm had a big hole to fill to stay in contention for the Cup. But damn, how was I supposed to know of all the teams they could make a trade with, it would be Boston?
“You were?” There’s a squeak to my voice belying the panic churning inside.
“Yup.”
I grip Jase’s hand so hard it makes mine hurt. He hasn’t said a word since Fallon made his appearance.
“Teddy didn’t tell me.”
I talked to him yesterday. Why didn’t he mention Fallon would be living in my city?
Fallon’s gaze drops to where my hand has a death grip on Jase’s, holding on as if he will float away like a rogue Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon if I let go. Given what is about to go down, it’s a very real possibility. “Looks like he’s not the only Bishop keeping secrets.”
Shit!
“Bishop?” Jase looks at me, confusion written all over his handsome face.
This is my worst nightmare come to life. The only thing missing is me being naked. I know it is long past when I should have told Jase the truth about my identity, but him finding out like this is the absolute worst possible way it could have played out.
“Hold up.” Fallon chuckles. The sparkle in his eye does not look promising. “She’s your girlfriend?”
No, no, no, no, no, no.
“What’s it to you, Fallon?” Jase’s voice is hard.
Another chuckle. “Oh this is fucking perfect. I feel like I should have Nate on speaker for this.”
“Fal,” I warn, plead—hell, I don’t really know what I’m doing right now.
I tug on the hand in mine, spinning around to beg Cali to intervene. If I can get Jase away before Fallon drops the bomb, I might just be able to save our relationship.
“Babe?” There’s a tick in Jase’s jaw. “How do you two know each other?” He bounces a finger between Fallon and me.
“Yeah, Mels—how do we know each other?”
Who is this person? Why is he being so…so…mean?
I’ve always stayed out of the rivalry between Jase and Nate. Seeing this side of Fallon is a different experience, one I don’t much care for.
I don’t speak.
I don’t move.
I don’t even think I’m breathing.
How is this happening? Why is this happening?