“You okay?” She slid into the empty seat next to me as we drew closer to the Predators’ arena.
“I never really miss home,” I admitted after a pause, tugging my cap lower. “Not since I left almost a decade ago. But today? Seeing those kids…”
She nodded thoughtfully, mind working a mile a minute behind her eyes. “Maybe you should invite your family to a game back home. Let them see what you’ve built for yourself.”
I shook my head. The reality of it was suffocating. “They wouldn’t come. They don’t want anything to do with me, or hockey. Made that clear a long time ago.”
She didn’t push. Didn’t offer a pep talk or a line about healing old wounds. Guess there wasn’t a script for dealing with a family who didn’t want you.
“Fair enough,” she said, and there wasn’t a hint of pity in her tone. “But you’re allowed to feel it. Missing home doesn’t mean you’re weak.”
I looked at her then, noticing something I hadn’t before. She was always so precise, so impossible to read. But here, in this moment, she gave me room. She let me be human without judgment. I felt a little lighter for it, though I didn’t say that out loud.
“Thanks,” I muttered instead.
Her eyes flicked up briefly, the faintest lift at the corner of her mouth, almost imperceptible, before she returned to her tablet.
The next thing I knew, we were back at the arena. The contrast was jarring. From quiet laughter to shouted questions and flashes. Reporters crowded the front entrance, clamoring for a story. Holly moved ahead of me, and I followed close, planning to hang back and let her do her job as we cut through to the locker room.
But one reporter pushed the line, phone shoved in Holly’s face. “Any comment on the story coming out of that charity gala?”
She looked up, stunned that he was addressing her out of a whole team of hockey stars. “Excuse me?”
His smile was lewd as he pushed closer. “Don’t play coy for the cameras. Give it to me straight. Are you guys dating or not?”
I didn’t hesitate. I stepped directly between Holly and the reporter, arm brushing her lightly. “Back up, man. What’s your problem?”
Instead of backing up, he latched onto me. “Are you speaking for your girlfriend, Hunter? You can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“I said back up,” I repeated, and gave him a hard shove to go along with it.
Holly’s eyes caught mine, and behind the flicker of surprise was nothing else but recognition. She let me take the lead, and I felt this strange, satisfying weight shift. From her having my back, to things being the other way around.
“Thanks,” she said in the cool space of the hallway once we’d cleared the huddle.
“Feels good being able to return the favor.”
She laughed, a bright sound that made me smile wider. “Not a favor, Callahan.”
“Your job,” I finished for her, and fell into an easy stride next to her.
13
Holly
“Seriously, who thought this was a good idea?” I muttered under my breath as the photographer adjusted the lighting.
Grayson snorted. “Anything to get us to take our shirts off.”
The studio was warmed to a comfortable temperature, but the cold still showed on their chests. I could hide mine by hugging my blazer closer, but just knowing the guys were up there in nothing but sneakers was enough to put me on edge.
“You okay, PR?” Mason grinned from his spot in the trio, strategically holding a large foam cube over his lap.
“I’m perfect.”
I was the furthest thing from perfect, but he didn’t need to know that.
Hunter flanked him, and hadn’t said anything this whole time. His muscles coiled, and the grip on his own cube was so tight his knuckles were shot white. Every now and then, his eyes would snap in my direction.
