Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Minerva

I spent the whole night fighting the same memory. Every time I closed my eyes, it came back. His hands holding my wrists. His gaze fixed on my lips. The way he almost kissed me before pulling away like I was something dangerous.

I barely slept. The almost-kiss kept replaying in my head every time I closed my eyes. His hands on my wrists. The way he looked at my mouth.

Then the way he jerked back like he had burned himself. Every time I thought I was finally falling asleep, that moment came back again. I kept wondering what would have happened if neither of us had pulled away. Would he have kissed me? Would I have stopped him?

I hated that I did not know the answer. By the time my alarm went off, my head felt heavy and my eyes burned from being awake most of the night.

By morning the suite felt smaller than it had the night before.

Kendrick was already dressed when I came out of the bathroom. His tie was straight, his jacket was on, and his hair looked perfect like he had spent time fixing it. He barely looked at me. He stayed busy checking something on his phone instead.

“Team meeting in twenty,” he said, voice flat. “Then we head to the gala. Wear something decent. Press will be everywhere.”

I only nodded. I was not sure if I wanted to talk to him anyway. If he was pretending last night never happened, maybe I should do the same.

I walked over to my suitcase and opened it. Most of the clothes I packed were simple because I came here to work, not to impress anyone.

I pushed a few shirts aside before pulling out a plain black dress that stopped just below my knees. It was clean, comfortable, and simple. It did not sparkle or hug my body. It was the kind of dress people looked past instead of staring at.

I changed quickly, fixed my hair into a neat ponytail, and slipped on a pair of black flats. When I stepped out of the bedroom, Kendrick looked at me for one second. His eyes moved over the dress before he looked away again so fast that I almost thought I imagined it.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s go.”

That was it.

No joke. No teasing. No annoying comment about my clothes. Somehow that felt even stranger.

The ride to the arena for the team meeting was quiet. Everyone was talking about practice and making plans for after the gala. A few players laughed loudly from the back of the van, arguing over who would embarrass themselves first on the dance floor. Someone made fun of another player’s ugly tie, and the whole van burst into laughter.

Kendrick did not join in.

He sat beside me with his phone in his hand, scrolling through emails or messages without saying a word. His face gave nothing away.

I put my headphones in even though no music was playing. I just wanted something between us. If he was building a wall, then I needed one too.

The team meeting did not last long. Coaches talked about schedules, sponsors, and reminding everyone to behave during the gala because reporters would be watching. After that everyone changed into their formal clothes before heading downtown together.

The gala was held in a huge hotel ballroom in the middle of the city. Fancy lights hung from the ceiling, making everything shine. Cameras flashed every few seconds as reporters waited near the entrance.

Men wore expensive suits. Women wore beautiful dresses that probably cost more than my entire closet. Waiters walked around carrying trays filled with drinks and tiny snacks that looked too pretty to eat.

Sponsors stood in small groups shaking hands. League officials smiled for pictures. Everyone looked happy, but most of the smiles felt fake.

I stayed close to the medical staff table near the edge of the room, hoping no one would notice me. I picked up a glass of water and quietly watched the crowd. This was Kendrick’s world, not mine. I planned to survive the night without becoming part of the show.

That plan lasted about ten minutes.

The room suddenly grew quieter around the entrance.

A woman in a deep red gown walked in like she owned the place. She was tall with perfect hair that fell over one shoulder. Diamonds around her neck caught every light in the room, making her impossible to ignore. Heads turned as she walked across the ballroom with complete confidence, like she already knew everyone wanted to look at her.

She did not stop to greet anyone else.

She walked straight toward Kendrick.

He had been talking to two sponsors, smiling politely the way he always did during business events. The second her hand rested on his arm, his smile disappeared.

He turned around, and his whole body went stiff.

“Elena,” he said.

She smiled like she had been waiting for that reaction. Then she leaned in and kissed his cheek without asking.

“Surprise,” she said softly. “I flew in this morning. Thought you could use some proper company.”

My stomach dropped. Fiancée. I had heard the rumors but seeing her was different. She looked like she belonged in every photo ever taken of him. Perfect. Expensive. Untouchable.

She looped her arm through his and turned toward the nearest camera. “Smile for the league, darling. They love a united front.”

Kendrick’s jaw tightened but he did it. The flashes went off. She pressed closer, hand flat on his chest, smiling like everything was fine. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. I stayed by the wall and watched. My chest felt tight for no good reason.

Elena kept him there for a while. More photos. More small talk with people who cared about money and image. Every time she touched him it was deliberate. A hand on his shoulder. Fingers brushing his wrist. She was marking her territory and she wanted everyone to see it.

I turned away and grabbed a glass of water from a passing tray. That was when I heard the familiar laugh.

Vivian walked in with Liam beside her.

She wore something short and sparkly that showed off everything. Liam looked tired and tense. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on me.

Vivian spotted me a second later. Her smile turned sharp. She made a beeline over, Liam trailing behind.

“Well look at this,” she said loud enough for nearby people to hear. “The team’s little physical therapist. Is that what you call that dress? Cute. Very… practical. Did you borrow it from the hotel laundry?”

A few people glanced over. My face heated. I kept my voice even. “It’s just a dress, Vivian. Please do not bring our differences in here.”