I’m dressed and heading out—jeans, Henley, leather jacket—when someone steps into my path.
Derek.
“Kane.” His voice is flat. “We need to talk.”
My stomach drops, but I manage to keep my expression neutral. “Yeah? About what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” He steps closer. “This whole thing you’ve got going on with Chloe, it’s got to stop. I don’t know what kind of scheme you’re running?—”
“Scheme?” My voice is level, but my heart is pounding. “What are you talking about?”
“You show up out of nowhere with Maya’s sister, and suddenly you’re this devoted boyfriend?” His voice drops low, seething with disdain. “A week after the news breaks that you’re not the charmer everyone thinks you are? You need her. I’m not an idiot, Kane.”
“There’s no scheme, Derek. Chloe and I are together. We reconnected a few weeks back and?—”
“Save it.” He cuts me off. “I don’t know what your angle is, but I’m watching. And if you hurt her—if this is some publicity stunt and she gets caught in the crossfire—I will make your life miserable. On the ice and off it.”
The threat hangs in the cold air between us.
I fight the urge to push back, tell him to back off. But the words die in my throat.
He’s not wrong.
This is an arrangement. A mutually beneficial agreement with contracts and NDAs and payments.
And if he knew that, well, you saw the contract. My career would be over.
So I lie.
Sort of.
“I’m not playing games with her,” I say quietly. And that part, at least, feels true. “I care about her. I’m not going to hurt her.”
That one is true.
“You better not.” He steps past me, heading back toward the locker room.
I should let it go, but?—
“What’s your problem, Derek? Why are you so against this?” I keep my voice low, but it holds an edge. “Did I do something to you in a previous life?”
Derek stills, glancing over his shoulder, his eyes dark in the tunnel light. “The fact that you don’t know is exactly why.”
He keeps walking. Leaving me standing in the empty tunnel with my heart still racing and absolutely no idea what just happened.
What don’t I know?
What am I missing?
I stand there for another minute, trying to piece it together.
Nothing.
Finally, I give up, head out the tunnel. I’m almost to my car when the Blue Ox social media and PR coordinator, Felicity, calls from behind me. It’s never a good idea to stop and acknowledge her. Trust me on this. “Brody! Got a second?”
I don’t stop, just turn around and keep walking backward. “Yeah, what’s up?”
She’s running up to me. “I saw the photos from Saturday night. You two look great together.” She’s got her tablet out, scrolling. “Very natural. The bowling pictures especially—people are eating it up.”
