Wildcat

by Rebecca Jenshak

  “She called to see if there was anything she could do to help.”

  I nod toward my phone on the counter. “How bad is it this morning?”

  “A few more sites have run articles, but someone must be squashing them because they disappear as quickly as I find them.”

  “I’m sure Rhyse’s team is monitoring any that mention him.”

  He makes a disapproving sound deep in his throat.

  “I’m not their concern.” And I don’t blame them. At least not anymore.

  “Well, you’re mine. What can I do?” He runs his hands along my shoulders and down to my elbows and back.

  “Nothing. Go play awesome hockey and call me later tonight.”

  “Done and done. Why don’t you come with us?”

  “To California?”

  “Yeah, or meet us in Phoenix or Seattle,” he says, listing the other cities they’re traveling to this week.

  “Umm, I can’t just run away from my life here. I need to get serious about finding a job. Also, I promised Jade I’d go on another wedding adventure with her.” I run a hand along the smooth muscles of his chest. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, I’ll kick Ash out of our hotel room for you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think he’s my biggest fan right now.” I sip the coffee.

  “Nah, he knows how the media can twist things.” He brushes my messy bedhead hair away from my face. “Blythe said she can help us craft a statement if we want.”

  “What kind of statement?”

  “Something that says we’re together. Officially.” He shrugs. “It might make the crap news die down faster.”

  “That’s what she thinks is best for you?”

  He glances at the ceiling. “Sort of.”

  “It’s best for me. Not for you,” I guess.

  He lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. I think of my dad and the team and shake my head.

  “No. I don’t want to drag you any further into this mess. The less you’re mentioned, the better.” I lean up and place a kiss on his lips. “But thank you.”

  After Leo leaves for the team plane, I head home. The smell of apple pie greets me, and I smile when I see said pie and the note Mom left for me. When life hands you lemons, trade them for apples and make pie.

  I eat a slice for breakfast and then shower and go to Jade’s apartment. I don’t feel like being alone with my thoughts or my phone.

  Her boyfriend, Sam, answers the door with a smirk. “You’re famous.”

  “Not cool.” Jade glares and shoves at his shoulder. She takes my hand and leads me to the couch as Sam disappears into their bedroom.

  Jade wraps her arms around me and squeezes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” I hold up my phone, which is still off. “I’m in deep avoidance.”

  “Me too. Let’s stay there together all day.”

  Now that I’m taking a second to look at my best friend, it’s clear something is wrong. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she has on a baggy sweatshirt. Jade is beautiful no matter what she does to her appearance, but she gets ready every morning—full makeup, hair, outfit—like other people brush their teeth.

  “What’s going on?”

  She frowns. “My editor hated my article on Vivian.”

  “I thought Vivian was the wedding planner?”

  “She is. My editor loooved Vivian, but hated my angle. I have to come up with another one, then write it and turn it in by tonight.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She’s not wrong. All of my ideas are tired and have been done a million times before. I have no clue how I’m going to come up with something fresh. What do I know about getting married?”

  “And here I am dumping on you when you have a real job to do.” I sit forward. “I can grab you coffee and food while you work.” I need a task or a thousand to keep my mind occupied today.

  She smiles. “Coffee and donuts?”

  My stomach growls. It’s obviously on board with deep avoidance and more sugar.

  “Come on. I can work there. Sam’s friends usually end up here by mid-afternoon anyway.”

  She grabs her stuff, and we head out.

  “How’s living together going anyway?” It’s been two months since he moved in, and honestly, I didn’t think they’d last this long.

  “I don’t have to go to a frat house to see my boyfriend anymore, which is a plus.”

  “Yeah, definite upgrade.”

  She huffs a laugh. “It’s been an adjustment for sure. I think it’ll bring us closer together, though.” She sighs.

  I think she’s in deep avoidance about more than her article.

  35

  I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOUR STICK

  LEO

  “Next question,” I grumble into the microphone and glare hard at the reporter who showed up here and thought it’d be a good idea to ask me about my mindset going into tonight's game with the rumors floating around about my association with Coach Miller’s daughter.

  I guess she doesn’t even get a name. Not that I want the asshole speaking it.

  It’s been a long week with the same tired questions every game.

  I get out of the pre-game interview without yelling at anyone—just barely.

  “They wouldn’t be doing their job if they didn’t ask,” Ash says in the locker room.

  I know he’s trying to calm me and that on some level, he’s right, but it still pisses me off. “Since when did my personal life become any of their business? I came here to play hockey.”

  My buddy falls silent. The rest of the guys give me a wide berth. When we take the ice for warmups, I roll my neck and focus. When I move over near the bench to stretch, Coach approaches me.

  “Is your head on right?”

  I nod, but he sees right through me.

  “Take it out on the ice, leave it behind for a few hours, whatever you need to do.” He runs a hand down his tie. “Are we good to go?”

  “Yes, sir.” The best way to get everyone to shut up is to skate my ass off tonight. This is my chance to prove all of those assholes wrong.

  Seattle is fast. They’ve been on a losing streak, and it’s clear from the start they’re hungry to get a win. I do my best to leave all the drama behind, take it out on the ice like Coach said, and I succeed for a little while too. I’m reading my line mates and we’re getting opportunities.

  It’s during a face-off at the beginning of the second period when I see the sign in the crowd. Lohan, My Dad Isn’t the Coach, but I’ll Take Care of Your Stick.

  That anger bubbles to the surface, and Seattle’s captain, Ryan Moore (an asshole on and off the ice) sneers as he sees my reaction. “Trouble getting a date, Lohan? Had to resort to fucking your coach’s daughter?”

  “How about you worry less about my sex life and more about helping your team out of a five-game slump, huh?”

  The puck drops, and I shove him before going after it. My anger fuels me. The better I play, the rowdier the crowd seems to get. Every second I’m off the ice, my frustration vibrates under the surface.

  “Let’s keep our heads out there.” Coach claps his hands as my line goes in. It’s a different kind of adrenaline pumping through my veins tonight. I’m feeling reckless and eager to prove that my personal life doesn’t impact the way I play.

  I’ve reined it in as long as I can. The speed and energy are making me sloppy. I know it, and I fight to regain control. Not before I get called for elbowing. I start toward the box, and Moore starts mouthing off, asking if we pass Scarlett around after the games. I see red. I get two good hits in before Declan and Maverick pull me back.

  It’s a downhill spiral from there. Seattle scores on the power play. I do my time in the box, leg bouncing and rage pulsing.

  Coach yells at me when I make it back to the bench, but I barely hear him. Moore continues to sneer at me every chance he gets, but he doesn’t say Scarlett’s name again, so he gets to l
ive. I know that the more I show how he agitates me, the more he’ll do it.

  The game comes down to a shoot out, and Seattle gets the win. The locker room is quiet. Coach doesn’t come in to talk to us. I guess there isn’t anything to say. This game should have been a cakewalk.

  I’m not at all surprised when I’m called to the media room. Jack places a hand on my shoulder and stops me before we walk in. “Are you good?”

  “I’m fine.” I shrug out of his hold.

  He moves his big body in front of me. “Do not go in there pissed at the world.”

  Taking a deep breath, I nod.

  Despite feeling like I’m ready to explode, I manage to answer questions and take my part of the responsibility for losing my head and costing the team an early goal.

  By the time we get on the plane to head home, I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years.

  “Drink?” Ash pours scotch from a mini bottle into a glass with ice.

  “Nah.”

  “Have a drink,” he says and places it in front of me. “You need to chill the fuck out. I can feel the rage radiating off you.”

  I stretch my legs out and sip the whiskey.

  “There you go.” He makes himself a drink and reclines his chair back. “What the hell did Moore say to you?”

  “Just shit about Scarlett.” I keep my voice down. The last thing I want is for Coach to hear.

  “You can’t rage on every guy that talks shit about her, or it’s going to be a very long season.”

  He’s right. Once guys know you have a weak spot, they’ll rub against it every chance they get. “I know. I lost my shit. It’s been a long couple of days.”

  “It’ll blow over. Somebody else will do something dumb soon enough.”

  I blow out a long breath. “God, I hope so.”

  When Ash passes out, I call Scarlett.

  “Hey.” Her voice is husky and tired, but it still lights me up.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She groans. “I fell asleep on the couch watching the game. Did you win?”

  “No. Lost in a shoot out.”

  “Oh, really? I thought you guys had it. I’m sorry.” The genuine sympathy from her end makes me realize she has no idea I got into a fist fight during the game. She’d definitely mention it.

  “How are you?” I ask. “What’d you do all day?”

  Calm that I haven’t felt since I talked to her this morning washes over me. We’ve barely mentioned her ex or the pictures since I left. I have Blythe and Daria keeping me updated, but Scarlett and I have been carefully skirting the drama and enjoying the few minutes we get to chat every day.

  It feels like it’s already occupied so much of my week, with everyone else wanting to talk about it. Is it too much to ask to keep all the nonsense from ruining the few minutes I get with her while I’m on the road?

  Everything else is bullshit. I just want to talk to my girl.

  36

  OUR HAPPY COCOON

  SCARLETT

  I crashed hard watching the game, and now after talking to Leo, I can’t sleep. I’m in the kitchen eating cereal to make up for the dinner I didn’t eat when I hear the garage door open. Dad walks in a few minutes later, looking tired. He sets his bag on the table and looks up to find me sitting at the island.

  Silently, he comes over and grabs a bowl, fills it, and sits beside me. We never really talked about the problems Rhyse and I had. That was more Mom’s department. But now that my relationship involves one of his players, I’m not sure how to broach the topic. I decide to go with straight hockey talk.

  “Tough loss tonight.”

  He hums around a spoonful of Fruity Pebbles.

  “I’m sorry about… well everything, I guess.” I don’t even know how to describe the media shitstorm I caused.

  “Oh, honey, it isn’t your fault.”

  “It feels like it.” At least with Rhyse, it didn’t directly impact my family.

  “I have to ask. Is this the life you want? Living in the public eye, having your every move scrutinized?”

  “I really like him.”

  Dad nods thoughtfully. “And I’m sure he really likes you, but it seems like you’re both risking a lot.”

  “Leo doesn’t care about the media.”

  “Maybe not, but his performance this week made it clear that he can be distracted. Opponents will use that against him, and the reporters will poke and prod, hoping to get a rise out of him.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Dad’s mouth pulls into a straight line.

  “Tell me.”

  “He let the crowd and the other team get in his head and use you against him. It cost us the game tonight.”

  My stomach rolls. Why do people suck so much? “He didn’t say anything when I talked to him. I feel awful.”

  “It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last that people try to get under his skin. He needs to learn to tune it out.”

  I know on some level Dad is right, but still. “He said we could make some sort of statement together if I wanted, but I told him it would be better to keep it quiet and let it blow over.”

  “That’s good. I think that’ll be best for both of you. There’s no reason this thing between the two of you needs to be front-page news.”

  My heart hurts. I don’t know what the best thing is anymore.

  “He’s a talented kid with a bright future. He’ll be okay,” Dad says. “You both will be.”

  I wish his reassurances made me feel better.

  The next day, I go over to Leo’s after he’s done at the arena. He answers the door with a sleepy smile and folds me in his arms. “Hey, dream girl.”

  My insides light up at the endearment. I feel the furthest thing from his dream girl right now. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Still, I melt into him—his warmth and his strength.

  “How was your day?”

  “Better now,” he murmurs against the top of my head.

  We’re supposed to go out tonight, but we go to his room and collapse on the bed. Neither of us slept well, and my eyes are heavy as I feel a peace I haven’t since the last time we were together.

  I wake up to the sound of his phone ringing. Leo answers, eyes closed. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he murmurs one-word replies.

  He hangs up and rolls over, eyes finally opening. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Time to leave our happy cocoon?”

  “Yeah, I promised Daria I’d go for at least an hour.”

  We’d made plans to attend together, but now I’m not sure. “Do you still want me to come?”

  “Of course I do.” He rolls on top of me. “We can skip the grand entrance if you want.”

  My pride stings. Another event where I’m hidden. I’m so tired of being hidden.

  “No, I can handle it.”

  He searches my face. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” I kiss away his hesitation.

  The event is at a local brewery. There is really no avoiding making an entrance at this place because everyone is jammed into one large lounge area for the tasting. Leo doesn’t drop my hand as we make our way through the crowd to where some of his teammates are standing around a tall table.

  A server brings us each a flight of beers, and I try to relax as Leo falls into conversation with Jack and Declan. He hasn’t mentioned last night’s game or the fight I now know he got into with Seattle’s captain. It was all over the sports highlights today.

  I see Lindsey among the photographers milling about and wave when she gets close.

  “Hey, it’s so good to see you.” She hugs me, holding her camera in one hand. “I’ve missed you at the arena.”

  “It’s good to see you too. I didn’t know you were working the event.”

  “My boyfriend owns the brewery.” She grins and points to a guy at the bar with red hair and a trendy beard. “I’m free labor.”

  She st
eps back and aims her camera toward our table. “Everyone crowd together a little.”

  We smile as she takes a few. Leo presses me to his side.

  I feel more at ease after that. The Wildcats aren’t the only local celebrities in attendance, but our table is a constant hub of activity with people coming up to say hello or ask for a picture.

  Leo gets pulled into a ton of photos with the guys, and I hang back, admiring how handsome he is and how lucky I am to be here with him. He winks from where he stands, posing between Jack and Declan.

  I head off to the bathroom and, on my way out, get stopped by a guy that smiles and waves tentatively.

  “Hi,” I say and keep walking.

  “You’re Scarlett Miller, right?”

  I freeze. “Umm… yes.”

  “I thought so. I’m Antonio, Sam’s friend. I think we met at a party a couple of months back.”

  “Oh my gosh. Yes.” My shoulders relax as I place him. Jade tried to hook us up the same week I got back from London as a way for me to get over Rhyse.

  “Are you here with someone?” He looks past me.

  “Yeah.” I wave a hand in the general direction of Leo. He’s chatting in a group of guys that I think includes some Twins players.

  “You?”

  “One of my buddies is a bartender tonight. You know him too, I think. Lawrence. We were both pledge brothers with Sam.” He tips his head in that direction. “Come say hi.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I should probably get back.”

  “It’ll take two seconds,” he says.

  Leo is occupied, so I nod and follow him to the bar. I don’t recognize Lawrence, but I smile and say hello. They ask about Jade and Sam, then introduce me to more people. Their names start to blur together, and I’m not really interested in remembering them anyway.

  Also, it might be my imagination, but Antonio is standing awfully close. I don’t know a lot about him, aside from being a frat brother to Sam. The one night we hung out where Jade tried to hook us up, he got blitzed out of his mind and passed out in the TV room. Hey, I’m not one to judge. Been there, my friend, but he’s acting like we’re old drinking buddies instead of strangers with a shared acquaintance.