“You were losing control,” he says, voice low but sharp enough to cut. “On live television, Kyle. With the cameras still rolling. Every major network has the clip already. You gave the media a story they can twist twelve different ways, and guess who has to clean that up?”
I will survive a bad headline. I’m built for noise and judgment; I’ve been skating through it since I left home for college and the spotlight hit me before I knew how to handle it. Alycia is different. She’s still building her name, still fighting for her seat at the table. One rumor, one photo, one careless word, and people will tear herapart before they even learn how to say her last name. The thought makes my stomach twist. She trusted me for one second, and I might have just wrecked everything she has worked for.
I can see the story already. Rookie Defenseman Linked to PR Intern After Explosive Press Conference.They’ll turn her into the villain, paint her as some ambitious girl who slept her way into relevance. Same old bullshit dressed up as commentary. Just the idea of that makes something inside me go cold. Not anger this time, but something more protective and territorial. An instinct that makes me want to stand between her and the rest of the world.
“Then I’ll clean it up,” I say, raking a hand through my hair.
He looks at me like I just said the dumbest thing he has heard all week. “You cannot fix something like this with a few apologies. You painted a target on both your backs.”
He’s right, but I can’t let it end there. I can’t let him talk about her as if she’s a problem to be managed. Not when she’s the only part of this whole mess that ever made sense.
“I was defending her,” I say again, quieter this time. It sounds pathetic even to me.
“And now she’s in the crossfire. Maybe you should’ve thought about that before playing the hero on live television.”
My hands curl into fists. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it easier to hear. I wasn’t thinking aboutoptics or fallout or how the clip would look on replay. I was thinking about her and how small she looked when that guy laughed.
The memory hits like a body check. Her voice steadying when she shut down the question. Her shoulders stiff, chin up, eyes dimming in that way I have seen on rookies right before they get run into the boards. Anger burned through my chest so fast it wiped away everything else. All I could think was,no one humiliates her while I am standing there. Not after everything she probably had to endure in this industry to be taken seriously. Not when she’s the only one who has ever looked at me like I am more than a Hendrix headline.
The worst part is, I’d do it again, even knowing this is where it leads or if it costs me everything. Because when she looked at me in that split second, eyes full of hurt and fury, something in me snapped. And the part that scares me most is that I didn’t shout at that reporter for her job or her reputation. I did it because the thought of anyone making her feel small felt unbearable.
That’s what Cooper doesn’t get. This wasn’t about me losing control. It was about the fact that I couldn’t stand back while she bled in front of everyone and pretended it didn’t hurt me just as badly.
“So, what you’re saying, Coop, is the kid made it official in front of a national audience?” Cole shifts in the chair beside me, cutting through the silence.
The corner of Cooper’s jaw twitches. “Cole, not now.”
“What? I’m trying to help.” Cole leans forward, elbows on his knees, the picture of casual mischief. “It’s already out there. The tension. The looks. The clip has a million views already, so why not give them what they want? We make it into a love story.”
“You’re out of your mind.” I snap my head toward him.
It comes out rougher than I mean, edged with panic. Cole just grins that lazy, infuriating grin that says he knows more than he lets on.
“Maybe,” he continues. “But it’s not the worst idea I’ve had. The fans already think you are into her. The press will, too. You spin it right, you both come out as the league’s new power couple.”
Cooper groans. “Cole, for once in your life, shut the fuck up.”
“Hey, I’m serious.” Cole gestures between us. “They’ll stop calling it a scandal if they think it’s love. We release a statement and make sure it sounds romantic. They met before your retirement game, sparks flew, and now he’s back in Portland. It’s perfect PR.”
Beau finally speaks, quiet but certain. “You’re talking about faking a relationship.”
Cole shrugs. “I’m talking about survival.”
A bitter laugh catches in my throat. “You think pretending fixes this? Playing house for the cameras makes it better?”
“Better than watching her career go up in flames, yeah.”
The wordflamespunches rightthrough me. He doesn’t understand that nothing about this is pretend for me. It never was. I drag a hand over my face, jaw locked so tight it aches. The idea of faking something that already feels too real turns my stomach.
“This is insane,” I mutter, voice cracking on the last word.
“What is really insane,” Cole says, leaning back, “is thinking you can protect her by doing nothing. You want to keep her safe? Give the story somewhere to go. People can’t ruin what they think is already perfect.”
His words land heavier than I want to admit. My whole body rebels because faking it means pretending what I feel for her is not real. Pretending that last night was not the most honest I have been in years.
“You don’t get it,” I say.
Cole’s smirk softens slightly. “Maybe I do. You just don’t like the answer.”
