A couple hours later, I’m at the practice facility. Kirby and I work out, play some one-on-one, which neither of us win. It’s a dead heat.
Kirby takes off, and I’m left to my own devices. I consider dropping in on one of the youth hockey practices, but I don’t want to run into Aria. I’m not sure I’ll hold back if I see her. Best to stay far away. She’s untrustworthy. If I chew her ass out, she’ll probably get a video and post it everywhere. I won’t give her any further fodder for her dirty deeds. I regret agreeing to help her nephew, but knowing her, she’ll find a way to prevent it, which might be for the best.
Then again, Aria shouldn’t control what I do. Why am I letting her do so? With renewed determination, I head for one of the practice rinks. I round the corner to the entrance when I hear raised voices and stop in my tracks. I know those voices. It’s Aria and Gardenia.
“I thought we were friends.” Gardenia’s tone is full of hurt and confusion, but I sense an underlying anger.
“We are friends.”
“I’ve been defending you, and now you betray our friendship and the team like this?” Gardenia is now full-blown furious.
“I—I—” Aria is clearly at a loss for words. “It’s my job.”
“And you’re okay with a job that ruins others’ lives through lies and half-truths?”
“I—don’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice. Either conduct yourself with integrity or succumb to the never-ending quest for more clicks and recognition from people who don’t care what the truth is. You peddle lies and misinformation.”
Aria doesn’t respond. What can she say? Gardenia is right.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for the boys to hang around with Noah outside of practice. I cannot allow your lack of morals and ethics to negatively influence them.”
“You can’t punish the kids because of me.”
“I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. There isn’t a guy on this team who did what you claimed after clinching a playoff berth, and you know it. You fabricated the entire bullshit story, which makes you the worst kind of person in my book. I regret ever being kind to you. I think everyone deserves a chance, but you blew yours.”
I shift my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I don’t want to be caught spying. I glance around for an escape route, but the only choice I have is to walk past them. Squaring my shoulders, I saunter around the corner as if I haven’t a care in the world.
Gardenia sees me and snaps her mouth shut. Without a word, she spins around and pushes through the heavy metal doors that lead into the rink. Aria’s back is to me. She doesn’t see me.
Much to my horror, Aria bursts into tears and runs down the hall. Tripping over a mop bucket, she lands hard, sprawls on the floor, and doesn’t move. I hesitate, torn between ignoring her predicament, which she deserves, or offering help, which she’ll most likely rebuke.
I hear her groan, and damn it, I can’t refuse assistance. I’m truly a good guy deep down. Sometimes it’s my fatal flaw.
Another pathetic groan.
Shit.
With a resigned sigh, I approach and am inappropriately flippant. “Hey, I know I’m gorgeous and irresistible, but you should stop falling at my feet like that.” I can’t resist needling her. I brace myself for her comeback. She doesn’t respond, which alarms me, and now I feel like a real asshole.
“Aria? You okay?”
“No,” she says with a muffled sob, and covers her head with her arms. Now I’m concerned, and I kneel down beside her.
“Did you break anything?” I reach out to touch her carefully, examining her for signs of injury. She flinches, and I draw back. I’m a fool to touch her. She’ll probably write an exposé on how I’m a sexual predator or something equally heinous.
“Don’t touch me.” She shocks me by curling into a little ball like a wounded animal attempting to make itself small. I’m at a loss and don’t know what to do.
“Should I call 911?”
“No.”
“How about one of the trainers to check you out?”
She lifts her tearstained face to meet my gaze. “I don’t want any help. Leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that until I’m certain you’re not injured.”
