“Melina.” I throw out my arms to her. “You’re here.”

  Beside me, Ford steps back and straightens. The desire in his gaze evaporates, and he settles back into his record label owner persona. Our record label owner.

  “Daddy Ford, you did good! My girl looks so much better than I expected,” Mel says as she spins, taking me with her so we’re both facing him.

  “I did nothing.” He lifts his chin, steady, professional. “Just happy you’re here to take over.”

  Ouch.

  The words are like a sucker punch, the meaning behind them nearly knocking me over. He was just doing his job. Keeping his most profitable artist content and out of trouble. Now my best friend is here to take over—she’ll take care of poor Lake. The girl who clearly can’t take care of herself. The one who’s always falling for the wrong man.

  The girl who mistakes simple kindness for something else completely.

  Shame washes over me, and I let out a breathy sob of a laugh. “No need, I’m good. Let’s head up to the room. Don’t want any more debacles with the press.” Without looking up, I bite out, “Don’t worry, Mr. Hall, we’ll be good.”

  “Right,” he says, his voice sharp. “Have a good night, ladies. I’ll see you tomorrow at the stadium.”

  Mel doesn’t even wait for him to move out of earshot before she’s whispering in my ear, “Oh, Daddy Ford is looking migh-ty fine. Wouldn’t mind working out my daddy issues with him.”

  “Oh my God,” I hiss. Heart lodged in my throat, I peek back, but he’s already stepping out the front doors. I wasn’t even worth a second look.

  “What?” she whines, tugging on my arm.

  For the first time since I’ve seen her, I actually see her. Her blond hair is styled perfectly, and she’s wearing black leather pants, a slouchy gray sweater, and spiked heels. She is clearly dressed to be seen.

  I drag her in the direction of the elevator because I have no intention of being seen anywhere, but she pulls me back.

  “We are so not going to bed right now. You need a revenge fuck. You need to dance all over this city and make out with every hot man you see.”

  “Daddy Ford,” I say with a bit of bite, “will kill us if we go out.”

  “I’d gladly take the punishment.” She sticks her ass out and taps it. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry I’ve been a bad girl.”

  I yank her as hard as I can toward the elevator, praying that no one caught that on film. Girl is on a roll. There is no way we’re leaving my hotel room.

  The next three days are a whirlwind of work. Before every show, Mel swears she’s going to force me to go out, but fortunately, even she’s too tired after dancing on stage for hours between rehearsal and the actual concerts to push too hard.

  On New Year’s Eve—having still not heard a word from Paul—I’m over licking my wounds. It’s ridiculous how little his disappearance has affected my life. How nothing about my day-to-day has changed. Well, other than not having to coddle someone who didn’t give two shits about me.

  We’re rehearsing for a last-minute private show for the Bolts, and I’m sweating up a storm when Ford walks in flanked by two men in expensive suits. A black Henley pulls against his muscles as he lets out a loud laugh.

  My heart takes off at a gallop at the sound, threatening to launch right out of my chest. God, the man has a beautiful laugh.

  The men on either side of him are equally gorgeous. I swear one is the spitting image of Henry Cavill, with green eyes and a bit of a frown, and the other looks like Bradley Cooper. He’s wearing a smirk, like he’s quite proud of his ability to make Ford laugh so brazenly.

  Mel nudges me so hard I stumble. “Now that’s a gang bang I’d sign up for.”

  The bark of laughter that escapes me practically echoes in the space before I can clap a hand over my mouth. I don’t catch myself quickly enough, and now all three men are surveying me.

  Ford steps closer. “Something funny?” His eyes dance like he knows exactly what we’re giggling about.

  As if I wasn’t hot enough already, his attention ramps up the temperature in the room. I pull my hair off my neck and hold it up as I attempt to come up with a reply.

  Ford tilts his head to one side and frowns, then he slides something off his wrist and holds it out to me. “You’re always forgetting these.”

  Because I’m a people pleaser, I reach for the object he’s handing me without thought. A hair elastic? I hold it between my fingers like it might slither at me, dumbfounded by the gesture.

  “Need me to put it in your hair too?” he teases.

  The room is dead silent, and I’m pretty sure every eye is trained on us. Did Ford just pull a scrunchie off his wrist and give it to me?

  “Um, no.” Quickly, I use it to pull my hair back in a sloppy ponytail. “Thanks.”

  He’s right, I am always forgetting them. My hair drives me crazy when it’s loose like this during rehearsal. Before every show, my stylist applies so much product it barely moves while I’m on stage, but if we set it too early, it won’t hold until the end of the night. But the elastics dig into my wrists, so I never have one handy.

  Ford shrugs like it’s no big deal despite the fact that we’re all gaping at him. “Ready for tonight, ladies?”

  Mel’s phone buzzes on the table, pulling her from the conversation.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I think we’re set. Hopefully the guys paying for the private show are happy.”

  The Bradley Cooper look-alike nods. “Very happy. We appreciate your willingness to do this at the last minute.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Gavin, and this is my brother Beckett. We own the team.”

  I suck in a breath and perk up. “Oh! You’re Ford’s friends.”

  In unison, the brothers side-eye Ford, like they’re surprised I know this. It’s only because he told me about them in the car. Nothing else nefarious. Hell, since that odd moment on the beach where I thought he wanted to kiss me, he’s been basically MIA.

  Though not so MIA that he missed the way I always forget hair ties. And if the chai tea and chocolate milk delivered daily are any indication, he’s still thinking about me.

  “That motherfucker,” Mel growls from the floor where she’s leaned against the wall, her phone in hand. She tips her head back and sneers at Ford. “Your fucking son. Why the fuck would you let him do this?”

  My lungs practically seize as I look from her to Ford and back again. I’m not sure anyone has ever spoken to him this way. Certainly not one of his musicians. What the hell did Paul do now?

  His only reaction is a tick of his jaw.

  Beside him, Gavin has his phone out and his head tipped low. After a moment, he hands Ford his phone. And that’s when I see an image of my ex-boyfriend and his new boyfriend clad in swim trunks and nothing else, making out on the beach.

  Ford curses and shakes his head, and then he’s pulling out his own phone and growling into it.

  When Mel approaches me, sympathy in her expression, rage like I’ve never known flows through my blood. Paul is nothing but trouble. She squeezes my hand, but I shake her off.

  “I think I’m ready for that revenge now.”

  FORD

  BLANK SPACE

  “I told you this wasn’t a fucking vacation,” I growl, propping myself up against the wall in the owner’s suite at the arena.

  I’m shocked that Paul actually had the balls to pick up the phone. Then again, he’s sporting an extra pair these days now that he has his boyfriend by his side. What the fuck?

  “Listen, Dad, I know you don’t like the media circus, but I’m happy. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

  Closing my eyes and letting out a breath, I drop my head back against the wall. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I could give two fucks who my son dates. And of course I want him to be happy. But what he’s doing is cruel. Parading around and flaunting his new relationship after cheating on Lake. Knowing she’ll see it all. My anger has nothing to do with who he’s dating and everything to do with how he’s gone about this entire thing.

  “How are you paying for a vacation in Bali?”

  Paul practically chokes on his words. “My credit card, obviously.”

  Flames erupt inside me.

  Obviously. This fucking kid.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have a job, Paul. And you don’t understand the first thing about responsibility. You fucked up, and rather than owning it and doing what I asked so that you wouldn’t hurt Lake even more than you already have, you’re fucking gallivanting around on my dime. It ends now. I’m shutting off your card access. Hope it was worth it.”

  Without waiting for a response, I tap End and throw my phone onto the couch.

  “How can we help?” Gavin asks, hauling himself up from one of the seats behind the glass. The private show for the players is set to begin in thirty minutes, and I can’t imagine what’s going through Lake’s mind.

  “He was supposed to go to my cabin in the mountains. Lay low for a few weeks. Let the girl lick her wounds. He couldn’t even give her that.” I shake my head. He’s so fucking clueless.

  Beckett pulls on his neck. “She seemed okay when she walked off.”

  I roll my eyes. He has no idea what a woman needs. The man still can’t admit to himself that he’s obsessed with his head of PR. And she’s completely unavailable. It’s ridiculous.

  So excuse me for not taking his word for it. I need to make sure Lake’s fine myself. With a huff, I pocket my phone and turn on my heel.

  Gavin grabs for me as I head toward the door. “Give her some space. She mentioned revenge. Sounds to me like she needs to find a guy to fuck. Ya know, move on from the humiliation and feel wanted again.”

  The fire inside me flashes hotter at the image of Lake wrapped around a faceless man. “That’s the last thing she needs,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

  “Respectfully,” Gavin holds up a hand, “it’s not up to you to figure out what she needs. She’s your son’s ex.”

  Both brothers blink at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. Maybe I have, because I stopped thinking of Lake as my son’s anything the moment she looked at me like she wanted me to kiss her. And if I’m honest, I probably haven’t considered her his for a lot longer than that.

  But because she is, in fact, his ex, I stalk to the bar rather than the door, and pour myself a ginormous glass of whiskey.

  LAKE

  DRESS

  “This look okay?” I spin in the mirror and tug at the hem of the sparkly rose gold number that hits high on my thigh. I’m pretty sure I’ve got more skin on display than what’s covered under this thing, but it’s New Year’s Eve. Isn’t that what tonight is for?

  Short dresses, flirty smiles, bad decisions.

  Hmm, sounds like a good song.

  “You look like porn on a stick,” Mel says with a shimmy of her hips.

  “I have no idea what that means.” But I giggle anyway.

  Mel hovers close behind me and squeezes my shoulder. “Proud of you,” she says, locking eyes with me in the mirror.

  Our show went off without a hitch, and then Ford’s friends invited us to a swanky private party.

  “Hockey players in suits,” Mel crooned on our way back to the suite to get ready. “My lady bits are going to have so much fun tonight!”

  With a swipe of my signature red lipstick, I smile. “Operation Revenge is in full swing.”

  “Oh yes! We should take a pic and post it. Show Paul you’re moving on.”

  “Eh, fuck him, honestly. Tonight is for me. I’m getting revenge on myself. I’m tired of being the woman who gets walked on.”

  “No, you’re getting revenge on them. On all the men who were stupid enough to take you for granted. We’re gonna dance on their graves!”

  That doesn’t sound quite right, but she’s just crazy enough that it makes sense.

  It’s been years since I had the ability to blend in with the crowd. Throw Mel into the mix, and there’s no point in trying. But an event like this is the exception. Hockey players are used to attention, often having women throw themselves at them and grown men beg for their signatures, so the majority of them don’t bombard us. With the exception of the younger guys and their dates. They’re still a bit green.

  We’ve only made it two steps toward the bar when the first guy offers to buy us a drink.

  Mel looks him up and down appreciatively and nods. He’s tall, not shocking, muscular, also not shocking, and sporting a black eye.

  “Looks like he can handle himself,” Mel chirps as he guides us to the bar.

  “Or maybe he walked into a coat rack?” I tease.

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t ruin it for me.”

  “What would you like?” Mr. Tall, Muscular, and Battered asks us.

  Over his shoulder, I spot Ford. He’s at the other end of the bar, and he’s changed out of the Henley from earlier. Now he’s decked out in a black suit that tugs across his back and leaves his ass looking biteable. Yes, every man in this room has an incredible body, but they’re all boys in comparison to him. The way he carries himself, his cool confidence, makes it tempting to reply to this guy with something like “Him. That’s what I like.” Of course, I’d never be so bold. So instead, I say, “A vodka soda, please.”

  When we’ve got our drinks in hand, our new friend diverts all his attention to Mel again. Not that I blame him since my focus is not up for grabs. Ford Hall commands every ounce of it. As I take a sip and search for an excuse to approach him, another woman beats me to it.

  Lisa. His number two.

  She’s got long red hair, beautiful violet eyes, and a beauty mark above her lip that is fucking tantalizing.

  She’s drop-dead gorgeous, with amazing curves and a set of tits that have every person she passes noticing. She looks like Jessica Rabbit, and from the looks of things, she’s set her sights on Ford.

  A twinge of jealousy so acute I can’t help but rub at it settles itself between my ribs. The pain blossoms into a stabbing sensation when she grips Ford’s arm and leans in to whisper in his ear.

  When he drops his head back and laughs, I bite my lip to hold back my groan of annoyance.

  I shouldn’t be looking at my ex’s father this way.

  I shouldn’t be looking at the head of my label this way.

  For my entire life, I’ve done the right thing. Not once have I let myself think about a person in a position of power the way I am now. Not because I think he’d take advantage of me. But because people would assume I got where I am by sleeping with a man like him.

  I didn’t work this hard to give the world even an inkling of doubt about how I got here.

  But God, when his eyes cut in my direction and his entire demeanor shifts, like he’s stunned to see me, my damn heart flutters right out of my chest.

  Maybe I shouldn’t give a damn what people think.

  Jessica—a.k.a. Lisa, a.k.a. the bane of my existence—tugs on Ford’s jacket and takes a step closer. He watches me for one more beat, though he doesn’t acknowledge me with even a nod or a smile. Then he’s tearing his gaze back toward the bar.

  And away from me.

  “Want a shot?” Mel pushes one forward without waiting for my reply.

  Without hesitation, I toss the golden liquid back and slam the shot glass onto the bar. And when another hockey player approaches and asks if I want to dance, I also don’t hesitate.

  “I’m Camden,” he says as he leads me toward the space where bodies are grinding against one another.

  With the lights dimmed, the city sparkles through the expansive windows. On the other side of the dance floor, a DJ dances along with the upbeat music he’s mixing.

  “Lake,” I reply.

  The blond chuckles. “Yes, I’m aware.”

  His palm finds my lower back, and he presses me close as soon as we hit the dance floor. The man doesn’t exude an ounce of shyness as he grinds against me.

  One song turns into two, and before the third begins, Mel appears with another shot and a fresh vodka soda. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I lose myself in my surroundings. I feel like I’m part of something. I’m entertained, rather than being the entertainment.

  Hot and in need of a break, Mel and I promise we’ll return, then sneak off to the bar, positioning ourselves outside the fray.

  “You going to test drive that hockey player’s stick?” Mel wiggles her shoulders and smiles.

  With a lift of one shoulder, I check out Camden, who’s also stepped off the dance floor and is chatting with a few other players. “Maybe. I mean, why not?” For once I’m not worrying about the consequences. Tonight is about having fun.

  Mel jumps in place and grasps my forearm. “Gotta pee. You want to come?”

  I shake my head. “It’s almost midnight. Don’t be gone too long.”

  “Oh, please. You’ll be sucking face with lover boy over there by the time I come back.” She points to Camden, who is now walking toward me, all swagger and sex.

  Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I spin to the bar and order another drink. I’m not ready for good ole sex eyes yet. On the opposite end of the bar, Ford is still standing with his friends. They’re surrounded by a few women who keep inching closer. One of them being Lisa.

  I always liked her.

  Tonight, I want to claw her eyes out.

  I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess, because I can’t help but peek over at the group again. This time, though, the man I can’t stop thinking about meets my eye and holds my attention. I snag the drink the bartender slides across the bar and hold it up in a salute of sorts.

  His face breaks out in a surprised smile. “Having fun?” he mouths.

  I shoot him a crooked smile and dip my head in affirmation.

  He pulls up straighter and shifts his body, like he’s about to shoulder past his friends and maybe utter an excuse me, but my focus is pulled away from him when an overheated palm lands on my ass.