of feeling like I went a few rounds with Vince Steele?” I say, referring to the current UFC Light Heavyweight Champ. “Not too bad.”
“Oof, don’t say that too loud here—Vicki might overhear,” Skye says, pointing to her ear with a manicured finger, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. I haven’t had many interactions with the other half of ATS—Jordan mostly handles E’s PR needs—but I can tell she’s a ballbuster.
“Vicki?” Who’s Vicki?
“The nurse from the ER?” Mase asks, holding out a hand to me as I pad my way across the room to him.
“Yeah.” Jordan exchanges a look with Skye I can’t get a read on, almost as if they’re sharing a secret. “Vicki—or Mama Steele”—she emphasizes the last name—“is Vince’s mom. It’s because I put up with the ridiculousness her son and my wombmate get into that I was able to convince her to pull strings for you all to stay with Kay here.”
Mase’s jaw drops, and I poke a finger under it so he can stop looking like a fish. I’ve always found it entertaining whenever he makes comments about how nonchalant I am about being around E and his teammates. Jordan Donovan? She’s the definition of blasé when it comes to famous connections.
“Aw…” Skye bends an elbow onto Jordan’s shoulder, leaning into her. “It’s cute you think being a star athlete is what got you preferential treatment.”
“Don’t be mean.” Jordan taps Skye in the stomach with a playful backhand. “You know their status helps.” She shrugs her free shoulder. “We just know how to leverage it better.”
I pause and take a moment to study the hockey queen. She might have a point. Since she pointed out the whole media darling angle Mase and I have going for us, I wonder if maybe I should leverage it to use the press to my advantage for the first time ever.
Now’s not the time, though. There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air that wasn’t here when I went to change. I felt it when I first came out of the bathroom and saw the new arrivals. No more. I need to confront this head-on.
“What’s wrong?” I ask the room, cutting to the chase.
“What makes you think there’s anything wrong?” E evades.
“Oh…I don’t know,” I drawl sarcastically. “Maybe because you all stopped talking the second I opened the door. Or, you know”—I thrust an arm in the direction of Carter, ignoring the twinge from all my bruises—“the fact that King is randomly here.”
“To be fair”—Carter smooths a hand over the black beanie on his head—“I was here when you were admitted.”
“And I’m sure it was only because my sister was with your sister when she got the call about what happened.”
There’s a tiny twitch to his lips, so small you would miss it if you weren’t paying close enough attention, before he shakes it off like it’s irrelevant.
I let him have it and focus on my next point. “There’s also the fact that not just Jordan is here, but Skye too. You spent most of yesterday at ATS—there’s no more strategic planning that could possibly be done. If they are here, it means they are reacting to something.”
Again, everyone looks at each other instead of answering me. It’s annoying as hell.
“There’s a bunch of press outside the hospital,” E says through his teeth.
My head falls forward, and one of Mase’s arms wraps behind my back to tuck me close to his side.
And the media circus begins.
Neither E nor B has made a statement since the pictures were leaked of them being here and confirming the reason why they missed yesterday’s game. If the press is already circling for a simple comment, what the hell would they do if they learned the details of how I ended up here in the first place?
“So we’ve come up with a brilliant plan.” B claps his hands and rubs them together.
“You only think it’s brilliant because you came up with it.” E proves he’s my brother by rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be salty, bruh.” B taps E’s cheeks before pinching them until E’s lips pucker and pushes his face from side to side. “You just get that million-dollar smile of yours ready to distract the cameras so Little D can sneak off undetected.”
That’s their plan? I swing my gaze back to King by the door. “Yes, Dennings.” He nods. “That’s why I’m here. Your brother wants me for my Speed Racer skills.”
“I’d say you’re more The Fast and the Furious than anything else.”