Chapter 6
1029 Words
The tunnel swallows them whole.
The bright lights fade first. Then the noise. The air cools just enough for Rina to finally breathe until she realizes Jace still hasn’t let go of her waist.
His fingers rest there like he forgot he’s touching her. Like letting go would pull him back into chaos he can’t face yet.
A trainer jogs past, eyes widening when he sees them. Whispered voices follow like shadows.
“That’s really her—”
“He brought her back here?”
“No way Coach is cool with that.”
Rina stiffens. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here—”
“You’re fine.” His voice is calm but edged with something sharp. “If they have a problem, they’ll talk to me.”
Not her.
Never her.
Not under his watch he won’t allow it.
The thought rattles her more than the noise outside.
They reach the locker room doors, the glass ones with the Halecrest wolf logo. Sweat, detergent, and adrenaline bleed into the air the second Jace pushes the door open.
His teammates erupt.
“EZAN!”
“That shot at the end was insane—”
“Man carried the whole team—”
But every voice drops when they see her standing behind him.
Silence stretches. Then smirks appear—curious eyes, a few raised brows.
Dylan Maddox stands near the back, sleeves rolled up, still damp from the game. His expression freezes when he spots Rina. His jaw tightens. Just for a moment.
Jace notices.
He steps in front of Rina instinctively, blocking Dylan’s line of sight, body shifting like a shield.
The room goes pin-drop quiet.
Coach Norris clears his throat. “Ezan… Interview. Now.”
Jace nods. “Give me a minute.”
Coach’s eyes narrow—just enough to show he knows exactly what this is.
Jace turns back to Rina, bending slightly so only she hears him.
“I’ll be right there,” he whispers. “Stay by the wall.”
His voice softens at the edges, protective enough to make her chest tighten.
Then he steps away—just a few feet—but keeps glancing back at her like his soul is tethered to wherever she’s standing.
Rina tries not to look nervous as she presses herself against the far wall, clutching her tote to her chest. Teammates steal glances, some curious, some amused, some hostile.
A few girls from the media team enter, rolling camera equipment, whispering about “Ezan’s girlfriend.”
Rina’s stomach flips.
She told herself she could handle this.
She lied.
A shadow appears beside her.
Dylan Maddox.
He leans against the wall like he owns the space, quiet but impossible to ignore. His cologne smells like cedar and cold nights. His gray eyes drag over her face with a mix of confusion and something that looks dangerously close to concern.
“You okay?” Dylan asks softly.
Rina hesitates. “I think so.”
“You don’t look okay.”
Her throat tightens. “I’m just… overwhelmed.”
He nods slowly. “This environment?…yeah it tends to do that. Especially when every camera wants your blood.”
Rina swallows. She doesn’t like how true that sounds.
Dylan tilts his head. “If anyone gives you a hard time, you tell me.”
Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air—low, rough, unmistakably territorial.
“Rina.”
Jace stands across the room, towel over his shoulder, hair damp, eyes burning like he’s seconds away from starting a fight he wants to finish.
He ignores everyone else.
“Rina. Come here.”
Because with her watching, he could breathe.
The command isn’t loud, but it vibrates through the entire room.
Dylan steps back. “Relax, Ezan. Just talking.”
Jace’s jaw ticks. “Didn’t ask.”
Tension sharpens like a blade.
Rina moves quickly, not because Jace told her to, but because the space between them feels safer than whatever just sparked across the room.
When she reaches him, he exhales—like her closeness unclenches something inside him.
“You don’t have to stay,” she whispers. “I can wait outside.”
He shakes his head. “I want you here.”
Want.
Not need. Not obligation.
Not contract. Not pretend.
Just… want.
Her chest pulls tight.
A reporter waves him over impatiently. “Ezan! Let’s go!”
Jace mutters under his breath, “They’re vultures,” then touches her elbow lightly, barely there, but grounding.
He steps into the interview circle, forcing his game face on while cameras aim straight at him.
“How’s the shoulder injury?”
“What was that final play?”
“Tell us about the girl, Rina Hale. Are the dating rumors true?”
Rina’s blood freezes.
Jace’s jaw goes steel-hard.
He wipes sweat from his brow, gaze slicing to her for half a second—checking if she’s okay, steadying himself on her expression.
Then he answers.
“Rina’s part of my life. Whatever people think they know—” he glances directly at one of the cameras, voice dropping “—they don’t know anything.”
The room stirs.
Reporters blink.
Teammates exchange looks.
It’s not a confession.
Not a lie.
And it’s definitely not safe.
It’s a warning.
When the interview ends, Jace walks straight back to her, towel in one hand, determination written all over him.
“You ready?” he asks.
“For what?”
“For whatever storm’s out there.”
His voice lowers, edges softening. “I promise I won’t leave you to deal with it alone.”
Rina’s breath trembles.
Because this…
this isn’t a boy faking a relationship.
This is a boy choosing to stand beside her
when the entire world wants her gone.
He places a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit.
Not once does he let go nor does he look at anyone else.
And somewhere between the noise and the silence,
between the chaos and what comes after—
Rina realizes the truth…
The contract might have started this.
But choice—real choice—was what kept it alive.
- Writer
