My breath catches and I’m sure he hears it. Giving me away.
“Back up.” The words come out sharper than I intended.
He lifts his hands and takes two steps back.
“Better?”
I nod, heart still racing.
It’s a lie.
It should be better. But it isn’t.
I swallow, straightening my spine and standing tall.
“Stick to the script.”
“I am.” His gaze darkens, landing on mine, and I force air into my lungs.
“Good. I’ll see you at the arena.” With every ounce of energy I have, I hurry to the door.
“Try not to think about the elevator.” His words hit me hard as I open the door.
Heat stabs low in my belly, and the room spins.
“You’re good at optics.” His voice is low and I freeze. “Not as good at lying.”
I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back. I step into the hall and slam the door behind me — hating that he’s right.
CHAPTER 18
BENNETT
Istep into the white lights of the arena, the cold air punching into my lungs. The scent of fresh popcorn filters down from concessions, mixing with the crisp scent of freshly plowed ice. The whole place hums like it always does on game night. The crowd, the blaring music, bright lights and energy.
Shoulders squared, jaw tense, every cell in my body’s alive.
Electric. Charged.
I walk toward the locker room, head held high.
I’m back.
The media’s already camped out in the mixed zone area, the dark blue Coastal Crushers backdrop covering the cinder block wall. A strip of black masking tape cuts across the concrete floor, cameras set up behind the tape. There’s a row of folding chairs, reporters ready and waiting.
Prince is there, standing behind the cameras. Harbor’sassistant, Julianne, holds a clipboard and chats with a blonde woman holding a microphone.
And there’s Tori. Standing off to the side, her dark hair pulled up in some kind of fancy twist. She’s in that same tight black pencil skirt, with a white gauzy blouse and heels.
My chest does something complicated.
She glances up at me and our eyes lock for a quick second before she ducks her head, checking her phone.
There it is.
I bite back a grin. Tori’s rattled — and it’s game time in more ways than one.
I step into the area and reporters jump up, the cameras blinking red.
