Page 62 of Grizz

“And they just… go with him?”

“If he invites them.”Elias smiles over the rim of his glass.“And believe me, he invited both of those women the second they walked in the door tonight.If he didn’t already ask them earlier.”

My eyes drift back to Julian and the two exquisite women at his side.Clarity strikes me—there are levels to this universe I haven’t even begun to understand.I’m playing a role in an environment far more complex—and far more delicate—than anything I’ve written about or navigated before.

Elias taps my arm gently, drawing me back.“Welcome,” he says with a half smile, “to the real inner circle.”

And with that, the period horn blares below us, echoing up to the suite.

Chapter 18

Grizz

Themomentthefinalhorn sounds, the scene on the ice explodes into joyous noise.Fans pound the glass and music blasts through the arena speakers, all part of the electric post-win rush that makes hockey the best sport in the world.

In the locker room, guys are ripping off helmets, bumping gloves, yelling across stalls as tape balls fly.This chaos is usually my favorite noise.

But tonight it just feels loud.

Tanner slaps my back as he drops into the stall beside me.“You were zipping tonight, Grizz.Their d-men were shitting themselves every time you touched the puck.”

I grunt, pulling off my jersey.“I see everyone shit themselves when I touch the puck.”

He grins.“Modesty looks good on you.”

I shove him lightly with my elbow, but my mind’s already drifting toward a suite four levels up and a pair of sea-blue eyes I could feel on me even when I wasn’t looking.

I towel off, strip out of my gear, and hit the showers.I’m dressed in street clothes before half the team has even found their boxers.I need out of this locker room, so I can escape this eerie feeling crawling up my insides.

As soon as I shove my hair into place, a group of us heads toward the player exit—a line of suits, cologne, and unparalleled swagger.Everyone’s pumped because Julian is hosting a celebration dinner at Onyx.It’s exactly the type of restaurant normal people book three months out, but the kind where Julian writes a check so he can walk in without a reservation.For all I know, there’s a good chance he owns the place.

Outside, Manhattan is its usual shit show, horns blaring, people spilling out of bars wearing Vipers jerseys.A couple fans shout my name as I step onto the sidewalk.I lift a hand in acknowledgement but not much more.

Tanner gives me a sideways look as we depart.“You good?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a lie and he knows it, but he lets it go.

A convoy of black Escalades is parked at the curb, engines purring and ready to transport us.The first group piles in, and twenty minutes later, we pull up to Onyx.It’s truly the jewel of Tribeca with floor-to-ceiling windows, black stone exterior and a backlit bar.

The restaurant is bumping with low lighting and bursting with the scent of pepper, seared meat, and expensive Merlots.Half the place is already cleared for the team—private dining area cordoned off with velvet rope and staff standing at attention.

“VIPs in the back,” Tanner announces, tossing his jacket at a host.

I shake my head, half amused, half wanting to strangle him.Oh, Tanner.

As I step into the restaurant, I see her, my eyes drawn on instinct.

Daisy stands there looking more beautiful than ever, but what really catches me by surprise is that she’s not alone.I’m trying to figure out who the guy is she’s talking to.

He’s laughing, some easy, familiar sound, leaning slightly toward her as he hands off her coat to the hostess.His hand touches her back, light, casual, but I feel it straight away.Daisy laughs at whatever he says, and she does it in such a way that I can tell they’re close.

“You okay?”Tanner asks, appearing at my shoulder, following my stare.

“Fine.”A vein throbs at my temple.

Tanner’s eyes flick between the duo and me, and his eyebrows rise slowly.“Oooh.Interesting.”