Page 92 of Trick Shot


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I whip around, clutching the bottle of water I just pulled out of the fridge.

Jace is standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest, his jaw sharp and ticking.

“You saw that?” I blink.

“Sure fucking did.” His eyes don’t leave mine. The air thickens, and there’s an edge in his voice I haven’t heard before.

“I asked him not to tell Dom,” I say, leaning against the counter. “And he…”

His stare hardens.

“And he what?” he repeats, flat.

“He said he might stay quiet if we invited him to join us next time,” I say.

The silence that follows is deafening and thick enough to cut with a chainsaw. Jace’s entire body goes still. I see his energy shifting like a storm tightening its grip. And I can’t help it. I giggle. It just slips out of me.

“I mean, obviously he wasn’t serious—”

But before I can finish, Jace moves.

He closes the distance in a second, grabs my wrist, and yanks me toward him—not hard, but firm enough that my body slams into his, bare skin to bare skin.

My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear anything else.

“Is that what you want? Two men at the same time?” he breathes.

My mouth parts. My throat tightens with the words.

Yes. You and…

“Jace! Matt’s on the grill, man!” The voice from outside hits like a gunshot.

Jace doesn’t flinch, eyes still on mine.

“We’re not done,” he says, voice low and loaded.

He lingers a second longer—like he’s daring me to admit it, to do something.

Then he exhales, jaw tight, and stalks out—leaving me alone, gasping, and painfully close to insanity.

The air still hums with him, like he left his energy behind just to torment me.

I grip the counter, trying to steady myself.

The guilt presses down like a weight on my chest, tightening with every breath.

But one thing’s clear.

This isn’t just messy. It’s too much.

And I don’t know how long I can keep pretending it’s not.

Because the truth is—I want both.

And wanting both feels like losing everything.

Chapter fifteen