“Lane?” The voice is soft, uncertain. “This is Nina. From last night. Your ... um.”
“Wife,” I finish, because apparently that’s what she is now. The word feels strange but not bad in my mouth—like trying a food for the first time that everyone loves yet somehow had never crossed my lips.
She takes a breath. “Right. That. Jack Bouchelle gave me your number. I’m friends with Ella. And, uh, he told me to congratulate you. But I was wondering if we could talk? About ... everything. I left you a voicemail earlier. I thought maybe ...”
“I haven’t listened to my voicemails yet. My phone is having a mental breakdown.”
“Me too. I mean, mine too.” There’s something comforting about the way she says it, like we’re in this together instead of just stuck with each other. Or worse, on opposing sides. I prefer playing defense on the ice and don’t need another case of public relationship fallout.
I glance at the time at the same moment a text comes infrom a familiar number—my father’s assistant with flight information. There goes Dad, swooping in, literally.
Nina says, “I’ve gotten multiple interview inquiries, thousands of friend requests on social media, many more to my business website, and someone from a morning news show wants to fly out here to Nebraska to do a feature on us.”
That catches my attention. “You really live in Nebraska?”
“Cobbiton. About fifteen minutes outside Omaha. I just left Eppley. You’ve probably played at the new Knights arena, aptly called the Ice Palace.”
“Yeah. I know it.” And will become quite acquainted with it for the rest of the season.
“Where do you live?” she asks.
“Omaha. My flight leaves in an hour. This is ...” The coincidence hits me again. What are the actual odds? I should have someone calculate this because technically, I’m still in Las Vegas. I ought to try a slot machine. Maybe I’ll win big. Not that I have a shortage of money. My finances are solid. I don’t want to retire, but I could and live comfortably.
In the pause, she fills in for me, “Weird? Impossible? Like we’re living a soap opera, a B-grade movie?”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “I was going to say complicated.”
“That too.” I hear what sounds like papers rustling on her end. “Look, I know this is awkward, and I’m sure you want to get this sorted out as much as I do. Maybe we could meet somewhere and talk about our options?”
Our options. Right. Like annulment, divorce, pretending this never happened.
The smart thing would be to agree immediately, set up a meeting with lawyers present, and figure out the fastest way to undo this mess. I have a career to salvage and a reputation to rebuild. The last thing I need is to be tied to this kind of drama,which I’m sure my agent will scold me for in no uncertain terms, especially after everything that happened with Xoe.
But something about Nina’s voice stops me from jumping straight to dissolution. Maybe it’s the way she said “our options” instead of “how to fix this.” Like she’s not automatically assuming I’m a mistake she has to correct.
A drop pass that needs work.
A goal that I shouldn’t have missed.
A game I should’ve won.
“Where did you have in mind?” I ask.
“I was thinking neutral territory. My bakery is closed today for the holiday and it’s private. We could talk without anyone bothering us.” She pauses. “Unless you think that’s too, I don’t know, intimate?”
Intimate.The word makes me think of last night’s kiss—a memorystuck on repeat that—I’ve been trying very hard to ignore.
When our lips met, it wasn’t about being a public personality or performing for optics. It was like Nina was genuinely curious about what my mouth and hers might do. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was a perfect boyfriend prop. As my pulse raced, I remembered I had a heartbeat.
Nina’s kiss was patient, like she had nowhere else to be and nothing to prove. Her soft warmth made me feel wanted. And the way she smiled against my mouth mid-kiss, like she was delighted by some private joke we were sharing, made me think that the depth and breadth of this woman went beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in a relationship. I instantly wanted to explore more.
But those are crazy notions. Clearly, we’ve been duped and we have to get this situation resolved as soon as possible.
I answer, “When I hear neutral territory, I think of battlefields. Just so we’re clear, we’re not at war or anything.You weren’t any more aware than me of what was going to happen last night. But yeah, let’s meet.”
She exhales like that’s a relief, gives me the address, and we set up a time to meet later.
After I hang up, I stare at my phone for a long moment. I should call my lawyer first and get professional advice before I do anything else.
