Playing To Win || paused might be continued soon ||

chapter ten

Landon's POV

The house was packed, music thumping through the walls so hard I could feel it in my chest. People crowded every corner, spilling into the kitchen and living room, with drinks in their hands and laughter ringing out over the music. It was a celebration—the kind of chaotic energy that always followed a big win. Both hockey and figure skating teams were here, partying together to let loose after their victories.

I scanned the room, my eyes landing on familiar faces—Jaxon, Logan, Connor, Ethan, all lost in the noise and motion, drinks in hand and girls hanging off them.

I wasn't in the mood for this. Not really. The win should've felt bigger, but something was gnawing at me, an unsettled feeling I couldn't shake. The team did great today. I did great today. But somehow, that buzz of victory wasn't enough to drown out everything else.

And then, I saw her.

Emery Valenti.

She was standing in the corner of the kitchen with Ava and Sienna, drink in hand, laughing at something they said. The sight of her immediately set something off in me. It wasn't just her. It was the way she looked tonight—her hair loose, falling over her shoulders, and that dress she was wearing—tight, black, short. Too short. It clung to her like a second skin, showing off every curve, every inch of her legs, and I felt my jaw tighten without even realizing it.

She was different tonight. Carefree, relaxed, her usual guard dropped—probably thanks to the alcohol she was gulping down. I watched her for a minute, unable to stop myself, something dark stirring in my gut.

But then, I noticed him.

Some guy, tall with messy dark hair and way too confident for my liking, was watching her too. He started moving toward her, and a low growl of irritation crept up my throat. I clenched my fists by my sides, trying to shake off the feeling, but I couldn't look away.

I knew Emery and I weren't friends. Hell, we could barely stand each other half the time. But seeing her like that, with him—it pissed me off more than it should have.

I watched as he approached her, handed her a drink, and leaned in close to say something. She laughed, tipping her head back, completely unaware of the way he was looking at her. Like she was a prize he'd already won.

Before I knew it, I was pushing my way through the crowd, my chest tightening with each step.

They made their way to the dance floor, her movements becoming loose and a little unsteady. He was behind her, his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. She didn't seem to care. In fact, she looked like she was enjoying it, her body swaying to the music, completely lost in the moment. The alcohol had clearly taken over, because this wasn't Emery. Not the Emery I knew.

My vision blurred with anger as I watched her move against him, his hands sliding lower down her hips. I could feel the blood boiling in my veins, the sharp spike of jealousy mixed with something else—something dangerous.

She shouldn't be dancing with him like that. She shouldn't be dancing with anyone like that.

Without thinking, I stormed through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. The moment I reached them, I grabbed the guy's shoulder, yanking him back with a force that made him stumble.

"Back off," I growled, my voice low and threatening.

The guy looked confused for a split second before irritation flashed in his eyes. He straightened, puffing out his chest. "What the hell, man?"

"I said, back off," I repeated, stepping closer, my hands itching to shove him again, harder this time.

He glanced between me and Emery, who was still swaying to the music, too drunk to even notice what was going on. "Dude, what's your problem?"

"My problem is you," I snapped, stepping between him and Emery. "She's done."

The guy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, man. Chill."

He turned and walked away, probably realizing I wasn't about to let this go. I could've shoved him again, let my anger out on him right there, but he wasn't worth it. Not tonight.

I turned back to Emery, who was still swaying to the music, oblivious to everything. Her eyes were glazed over, a hazy look that told me she was far gone. She didn't even realize what had just happened.

I grabbed her arm gently, pulling her toward me. "Come on. We're leaving."

She blinked up at me, her lips parted in confusion. "Landon? What... what're you doing?"

"You're drunk," I said, my voice tight. "You can't stay here like this."

She giggled, stumbling slightly as she leaned into me. "I'm not drunk. I'm fine."

"You're not fine." My grip tightened on her arm, and I started pulling her toward the stairs, away from the crowd. She resisted, whining like a child who didn't want to leave a playground.

"Where're we going?" she slurred, trying to tug her arm free.

"You're coming with me," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "You're not staying down there."

She huffed, her feet dragging as I led her up the stairs and down the hall, toward the room I was crashing in for the night. She mumbled something under her breath, still trying to pull away, but I didn't let go. I couldn't. Not after seeing the way she was with that guy. The way she was throwing herself into a situation she'd regret the moment she sobered up.

Once we were in the room, I slammed the door behind us, locking it to make sure no one would follow. Emery stumbled toward the bed, falling onto it with a soft thud, her dress riding up her thighs as she collapsed onto her back.

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the floor for a moment, trying to get my emotions under control. She was frustrating as hell. Always had been. But seeing her like that—so vulnerable, so reckless—had flipped a switch in me I didn't even know existed.

"You shouldn't have been dancing with him," I said finally, my voice gruff.

She rolled her eyes, trying to sit up but failing. "Why do you care?"

"Because you don't know what you're doing when you're this drunk."

Her eyes narrowed, a lazy smirk pulling at her lips. "You're jealous."

"I'm not—" I stopped myself, my jaw clenching. "I'm not jealous. I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid."

She laughed, the sound light and drunken. "Sure, sure. You're not jealous at all. You just don't like anyone else getting near me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Valenti," I snapped, stepping closer. "I'm trying to help you. You're a mess right now."

"I don't need your help," she muttered, her words slurring as she struggled to sit up again. "I can take care of myself."

"Clearly," I muttered under my breath, watching as she finally managed to push herself up on her elbows, her dress sliding even higher. I looked away, forcing myself to focus on something else—anything else—but the sight of her in that dress, so careless and unaware of the effect she was having.

I moved to the edge of the bed, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to lie back down. "Just stay here and sleep it off. You're not going anywhere."

She frowned, her expression softening as she looked up at me. For a brief second, I saw something in her eyes—something vulnerable, like she was letting her walls down, if only for a moment. But then she turned her head away, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Why do you even care, Landon?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. The truth was, I didn't know why I cared. Or maybe I did, but I wasn't ready to admit it yet.

Instead, I pulled a blanket over her, my hands lingering for a moment before I stepped back, creating some much-needed distance between us.

"I'm going to stay here," I said, my voice rough. "Make sure you don't do anything stupid."

She didn't respond. Within minutes, she was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady. I watched her for a moment longer, the anger in my chest slowly fading, replaced by something else—something that scared me more than I was willing to admit.

What was happening to me?