Jillian curled her upper lip. “Maybe she’s come to her senses.”

My teeth set on edge. I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of either to begin with, but my usual sense of hostility was amplified times a billion right now. They were meddling, and I didn’t appreciate it.

I could not fucking wait for James to move. Counting down the days.

“You know what?” I said, using every shred of restraint I had to keep from raising my voice. “After the way the two of you have treated her, I’m not in the mood to watch you pretend to give a shit now.”

Amelia huffed. “You can’t talk to us like that.”

Since when? Maybe a hockey player chewing out a hockey girlfriend violated some stupid bro code. Which meant I would probably hear about it from Paul and Mendez later. Whatever.

“Pretty sure I just did.” They backed up as I took a step closer. I ducked my head through the doorway and leaned into the house. “James!”

A door creaked open, followed by the sound of footsteps. Bailey came down the stairs, wearing purple and gray plaid pajama pants with a matching purple sweater, bare feet, and messy hair loose around her shoulders.

She looked so perfect that something inside of me broke.

Possibly the last tether to my sanity.

When she made it halfway down the staircase, her gaze landed on me, her eyes widening. Probably because I looked like a madman running on adrenaline, frustration, and lust, which had combined to form some cocaine-like substance in my body. Something like that. I’d never done cocaine, but I was amped as fuck.

For all the pride I took in generally being calm and collected, I most certainly was not right now.

Bailey came to stand next to Jillian and Amelia at the door. “Chase.” Her brow furrowed. “What are you—”

“We need to talk.”

She froze. Her hazel eyes swung from me to Jillian and Amelia, then back to me. If she took their side on this, I might never get over it. No, I would definitely never get over it.

I raised my eyebrows. “Now.”

“Okay.” Bailey took a step closer and waved me inside. “Let’s go talk in my room.”

* * *

BAILEY

I may have made a slight miscalculation. Because now there was a very large, very angry caveman on my doorstep.

His black T-shirt hung off his broad shoulders, hinting at the muscles that lay beneath. And gray joggers sat low on his waist, wrapping around the V of his hips. He looked every single inch the heartbreaker I was scared he might be.

Chase stepped inside, and I took his hand. Waves of tension radiated off him with such intensity that they filled the room, palpable and heated.