Blind Pass (Carolina Comets)

by Teagan Hunter

  He narrows his eyes. “Tell me it’s a joke.”

  Ignoring him, I turn on my heel, leaving him standing in the doorway staring after me.

  He sighs, then follows me into the room. I bet if he could, he’d slam the door. He just stands there, hands on his hips like a grumpy old dad disappointed in his son, and that’s so much worse than the door slamming.

  I’m disappointed in myself too.

  I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and twist open the cap, bringing it to my lips and chugging half of it in one go.

  He continues to stand there staring at me, brows drawn tightly together.

  I hold eye contact as I finish off the rest of the bottle, then crumple it up and toss it to the side.

  “What?” I finally ask.

  He shakes his head, scoffing. “I can’t believe you. I cannot fucking believe you.”

  I can’t believe me either. It wasn’t exactly my finest moment.

  “Why? How?”

  I lift my shoulders. “It sounded like a good idea at the time.”

  “It sounded like a good idea at the time? That’s the best you have?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whose idea was it?”

  “Both.”

  “Both of you? How? You were sober when you left with her and there is no way a sober you would have made that decision. I know you.”

  He’s right. I wouldn’t have.

  “I was drunk.”

  “Is that even legal?”

  “Highly doubt it, but…”

  He cringes, and I know he’s already seen the video too.

  He nods a few times, understanding just how fucked up this whole situation is. He scrubs a hand over his face.

  “I assume you saw the photo and that’s what sparked this.” It’s not a question, more of a statement.

  “Unfortunately.”

  When I saw the photo of Brittney and her engagement ring, I was hurt. But I was even more shocked when I realized it was my own former teammate in the photo with her.

  I had no idea they even knew each other, though I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Colter isn’t the greatest guy out there. He has two baby mamas he hardly ever talks to, and last year he did nothing but pick fights with just about everyone on the team. I think nearly everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the Comets traded him earlier this summer.

  “Colter is such a fucking piece of shit, and Brittney is…well, she’s Brittney. Of course she’d do this to you.”

  Collin hated Brittney from the moment he met her, and I think it’s safe to say he was right in his initial displeasure. He tried to warn me away several times, claimed she was never in it like I was and just wanted my money and the clout of dating a “celebrity.” I dismissed him every time because I thought for sure one day we’d get over the back-and-forth of our off-and-on relationship and settle down.

  Maybe if I had listened to him, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  He doesn’t understand though. It’s easy for him to put himself out there. Sure, we both play pro hockey, so we have that going for us, but for me, it’s more complicated than walking up to a hot chick and going, “Wanna see my hockey stick?”

  Before my injury, I used to be confident, even a little cocky. Now? This scar is the first thing everyone sees when they look at me, and the first thing I see is the sympathy in their eyes.

  You always think having a scar from doing something badass would be fun, but I promise you it gets old quickly. The story gets old. The pitying looks get old. The recommendations of scar creams get old.

  Collin…he doesn’t know what that’s like. He doesn’t understand how hard it is to get somebody to look at me like I’m more than my scar. To find someone who isn’t bothered by it and isn’t embarrassed to be seen with me in public or pictures.

  Brittney never cared about it. Or at least I didn’t think she cared.

  But going by the dude she had her arm wrapped around in the photo, she wasn’t looking to settle down with an ugly guy like me.

  Ryan, though, I know she doesn’t care.

  “I like your scar,” she says, the smell of tequila hitting my nose. “It makes you look distinguished.”

  “I think you mean disfigured!” I shout over the loud music of the club. We’ve each had about four shots in the last hour, and I feel looser than I have in a long damn time.

  She grabs my chin and pulls my face to hers, her green eyes that I’m really starting to like boring into me. “You’re beautiful, Rhodes. Not despite your scar, but because of it.”

  It was the first time someone had ever called me beautiful.

  I’m sure she didn’t mean it. I mean, hell, she was three sheets to the wind.

  But still…it meant something.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What can I do? It’s already out there. You know better than anyone how the internet is.”

  The year before last, we blew our chances at the Cup in the finals. Collin really blamed himself for what happened. After a night out at the bar turned into a brawl, it was Collin who paid the price. He was arrested for assault, and his name and mugshot were plastered all over the media. They dug deep into his past and found out he’d been arrested as a teenager too. It was a shitshow. The charges were eventually dropped, but the damage to his reputation was done. He spent the entirety of this past season rebuilding everything he had worked so hard for.

  There’s no way I can start this season with a similar cloud of chaos hanging over my head, and announcing an annulment after a crazy weekend in Vegas is exactly what that would be.

  It isn’t just about me. It would look bad on the organization and people would assume they can’t keep their players in check. I don’t want to be that guy who brings negative attention to the team.

  “Think Coach is going to be pissed at me?”

  “Coach? Think the entire fucking organization. Dealing with him was a cakewalk compared to that mess.”

  It’s true. I remember hell raining down on Collin.

  If you ask me, the media really screwed him over. His first arrest as a teen was for protecting his younger brother after some idiots were bullying him for being gay. His second arrest was for standing up to a drunken idiot putting his hands on a woman. He should have been hailed a hero, not a villain.

  Needing more water, I reach back into the mini fridge, pop open yet another bottle of overpriced water, and guzzle it down.

  I drag the back of my hand over my mouth.

  “Getting drunk married, man? Really?”

  Fuck me if that bile doesn’t sting the back of my throat again.

  I force it down once more and reach for my third bottle of water. I’m thirsty as fuck and need something to do with my hands before I punch a hole in the wall and have to pay for that too.

  I can feel Collin’s gaze on me the entire time.

  “You can’t annul it. It’ll look bad on you both.”

  “I know.”

  I crumple the empty water bottle and toss it toward the others and then start hunting for my clothes.

  This place is a wreck, and there’s no doubt I’ll be paying for the broken lamp—courtesy of Ryan’s stilettos that she slung off without a care in her haste to undress—in the corner.

  I doubt she remembers that either.

  “You can’t say it was just a joke because those records are going to be out there, and they will find them.”

  “I know.”

  “You can’t—”

  “For fuck’s sake, I know! Do you think I haven’t run everything through my head over and over again? I hardly slept last night because I was up worried and trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to fix this. So save whatever bullshit you’re about to spew for later.”

  He doesn’t back away. Doesn’t drop my heated stare.

  All he does is stand there.

  “Collin…” I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “I fucking swear, I am about
five seconds away from hitting you.”

  He sighs, then rubs his hand across the back of his neck, no doubt kneading away the tension bunching there. “I’m sorry, I just… She’s Harper’s best friend, you know? I feel protective of her.”

  I nod because I get where he’s coming from. I’ve been feeling the same thing since the reality of this whole thing hit me. Ridiculous because we’ve only been married since last night.

  “Are you going to stay married to her?”

  I gulp back the lump that’s formed in my throat because I don’t have an answer to his question that’s a good one.

  There’s a part of me that wants to stay married for the ease of it. I won’t have to deal with the organization breathing down my neck or my parents’ disappointment.

  And in the very back of my mind, there’s a small part of me that’s scared this will be my only shot at marriage.

  I know I’m not a catch. Sure, I have the pro-hockey-player thing, but that’s it. I don’t have looks. I don’t have charisma. Most times, I’m an outright dick.

  So, this? It could be my only chance.

  I run a hand through my hair.

  Fuck. I sound so soft right now. And crazy. Completely certifiable.

  We can’t stay married. There’s no way…right?

  “Rhodes?” he prompts again.

  I blow out a long breath. “I don’t know, man. I don’t fucking know. Guess it’s time I talk to my wife.”

  5

  RYAN

  “Let’s look on the bright side—at least the man I married is hot.”

  “Ryan Felicity Bell!” Harper admonishes. “How can you joke at a time like this?”

  I lift my shoulders. “What am I supposed to do? Cry about it?”

  “Anything would be better than just sitting here stoically like you have been for the past twenty minutes only to have the first thing you say be a damn joke.”

  Harper isn’t usually the type to get upset so easily, but I can tell right now that she’s mad.

  What I can’t tell is if she’s mad at me or if she’s mad at the situation for me.

  When I left Rhodes in his hotel room, I headed straight for my own. I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find Harper waiting outside when I arrived. Collin took one look at me and shook his head. He muttered something about Rhodes being an idiot and took off toward his floor.

  He’s been up there at least twenty minutes now, and I have no idea how that’s going for them.

  “Can you maybe not yell at me? I’ve kind of had a long night.”

  She winces. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m worried.”

  “You think I’m not? It’s already online. I’m sure everyone and their grandma knows about it by now.”

  Except for maybe my grandmother, but that’s only because she doesn’t know a tweet from a Facebook post.

  Oh god—how am I going to break this news to her? I got married and she wasn’t even there!

  The reason I love love so much is because of her and my grandfather. They got married straight out of high school and were together for sixty years. I spent more time at their house than my own growing up, and watching them together was my favorite thing. Even after so long together, they were still in love like they were on their honeymoon. My grandfather brought home flowers every day and they danced in the kitchen after dinner every night.

  They made me a believer in all things good.

  When my grandfather passed away two years ago, it broke my grandmother. It was only a month later that she suffered a bad fall, broke her hip, and had a concussion. She wasn’t comfortable living on her own after that and wanted to be around others her age.

  She’s been at an assisted living facility since, but she hates it. The nurses are awful and her roommate is intolerable on a good day, but it’s all I can afford.

  I don’t want to add to her disappointment when she’s already struggling so much.

  “Have you talked to him?” Harper asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Not yet.”

  “You should.”

  “I know. I just…I needed some space. Clear my head, you know?”

  “I get that.”

  Her phone buzzes in her hand and she looks down. I already know whatever she’s looking at, it has to do with me. She doesn’t frown like that for just anything.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  She tips the phone away from me. “Just more tweets.”

  “Ughhhh.” I rub at my temples, my head pounding from the alcohol and probably a little from the stress of everything too. “All I wanted was one night of fun to forget about all the—”

  I clam up, not finishing that sentence.

  But Harper isn’t letting me off that easy. “Forget about all the what?” Sharp as ever, her eyes narrow. “What don’t I know, Ryan?”

  I scrub a hand over my face, realizing I now have to confess my troubles. “Look, I was going to tell you after the trip, but…” I exhale. “I’m fucked.”

  She screws her lips up, confused. “O…kay?”

  “I was let go at the salon last week.”

  “What?!” she explodes, pacing back and forth in front of me. “Why? What the hell happened?”

  I shrug. “I guess the owner of the building came by to negotiate rent and it did not work out well for the salon. Macy needed to make some cuts, and since I’m the only one without any dependents, I was let go.”

  “But…but you’re the best one there!”

  “I know, but since I’m kind of a one-trick pony with my makeup skills and the other girls can do it all, it just made the most sense.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s such bullshit.”

  “I get where she’s coming from. Besides, she knows I have my income from my videos and whatever photography I’m able to sell.”

  “Still. It sucks.”

  “It does, but that’s not even the worst of it. Rent hikes are a big thing this year because the cost of my grandmother’s assisted living is going up too.”

  Her face falls. “No.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  She comes to sit next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Oh god, Ryan. I am so sorry. I… What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess since I’m not at the salon anymore, I can make more videos.”

  “That’s what you wanted to do all along anyway, so maybe this is a good thing?”

  “True, but I wanted to get some savings built up a bit first, make a solid plan. You know better than anyone how much a small business can ebb and flow.”

  “So true.”

  Harper has a very…niche set of skills. She loves anything and everything horror related and decided to turn that into a very profitable business selling handmade items online. She makes home décor, trinkets, and even some props for movie sets that she ships all over the world. The things she makes are super creepy, but she loves it.

  I always found it funny that we ended up becoming such great friends since we’re total opposites. She’s obsessed with the horror genre, and I jump at my shadow sometimes.

  “Is that why you were drinking so much? Because you were upset?”

  I nod. “Yes. It’s dumb, but…between losing my steady income at the salon and the price of my grandmother’s care going up, and then add in the whole Steven thing…well…” I shrug.

  “You needed an escape. I get it. But can I just say maybe you went a bit too far?”

  I laugh. “I think that’s a fair assessment.”

  “What exactly happened? One minute he was tossing you over his shoulder to take you back to your room, and the next thing I know, you’re married. How’d you go from that to the altar?”

  “He started to take me back to the hotel but said he didn’t want me to choke on my own puke, so he wanted to sober me up some first. Which I guess is sort of sweet in a Rhodes kind of way.”

  She laughs because she knows I’m right. Rhodes and sweet do not go together.


  “I kind of broke the news to him about that girl he’s been seeing getting engaged.” I cringe thinking about it. Nobody should find out that kind of thing via social media. “He said he wanted to get a drink and dance and have fun. After that, it’s mostly blurry.”

  “Okay, for one thing, I cannot imagine Rhodes dancing. Like at all.”

  When he first suggested it, I couldn’t imagine it either. He’s a big, scary-looking guy. No way could I picture him on the dance floor.

  But I remember the feel of his hands on my hips as we danced together in the club. The way he held me to him like he never wanted to let me go.

  He runs his nose along the exposed column of my neck.

  “Are you sniffing me?” I shout.

  “Yes. You smell incredible.”

  “I do not! I smell like sweat!”

  He spins me around, my body crashing into his. He keeps his hands on my waist, pushing his knee in between my legs. My leather skirt rides up my hips and I’m practically exposed.

  But I don’t care.

  Not when he keeps grinding against me and my clit grazes against his leg.

  He drags his nose along my jawline, all the way up to my ear.

  “You argue too much, Ryan. Someone ought to spank you for it.”

  “Are you offering?”

  “Yes.”

  Images of Rhodes standing over me and my ass stinging red from his palm flash through my mind. A small noise escapes me, and I pray he didn’t hear it.

  I pull back, grinning up at him, trying to mask the fact that he’s making me think some very naughty thoughts right now.

  “Don’t tease, Rhodes.”

  “Who said I was teasing?”

  “You got this faraway look on your face. Were you thinking about Steven again?” Harper asks.

  “Don’t pretend you care about Steven.”

  “Oh, I don’t. I hate that guy.”

  I laugh. I can’t really say I blame her. He wasn’t a great boyfriend. He never called when he said he would, he was always ditching me for his friends, and he always talked to me like he was better than me because he was a published photographer. No matter how hard I tried, I was never enough for him. I guess that’s what I get for dating a self-centered artsy asshole.