Stephanie walks over to me and grabs my face in her hands and kisses me—hard. Someone starts clapping; my guess is it’s Jessie. Someone groans, and by the baritone I guess it’s Seb.
I wrap my arms around Steph’s waist and kiss her back even harder than she’s kissing me. When we finally break apart, she takes a ragged breath but turns to our audience with a smile. “My boyfriend’s the best, isn’t he?”
My hands are around her waist tighten, pulling her into my chest. “You won’t regret this.”
“I know,” she whispers.
My phone buzzes from the front pocket of my hoodie and she jumps as it vibrates against her. I pull it out and see my dad’s number on the call display. I never did call him like I promised Kate I would.
“I have to take this.” I excuse myself, giving Steph a quick kiss on the cheek, and walk into the hall and out the front door. I stand on Sebastian’s front porch and survey the incredible view he has. I miss Seattle in a weird way. It’s rainy and cold compared to California but it’s got a small town charm and everything is lush and green. I take a deep breath and answer the call. “Hey, Don.”
“Avery?” It’s a question, and I’m sure it’s not because he doesn’t recognize my voice; it’s because he’s just shocked I’m actually talking to him.
“Yeah. Hi.” The slate tiles under my bare feet are cold and damp. I wiggle my toes a little and start to pace.
“Hi, son,” he says, and it’s odd. He hasn’t called me that in…Jesus, I can’t remember when.
“How are you?” I ask because I don’t know what else to say.
“I’m not good,” he replies bluntly. “I’ve lost my son over something I didn’t do.”
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve got her back or what, but I finally see things in a different light. And I’m finally, truly sick of fighting with him—or anyone, for that matter. “It doesn’t matter anymore if you did or didn’t do it. I handled the situation poorly and that’s what almost ruined things between Stephanie and me.”
“Almost?”
I stop pacing and stare out at the sound. “Yeah. She’s willing to give me a second chance and I’m not going to screw it up. And if you do anything…”
“Avery, I’m not against you dating Stephanie. I never was,” he replies, his voice taut with sincerity. Before I can balk at that, he continues. “Yeah, I wanted you with Liz, but I just wanted you to have a handle on what you were getting into, and you didn’t and it blew up. I know I don’t have the best way of showing it, but I was only looking out for you.”
“Well, maybe sometimes I have to make mistakes,” I reply, and sigh. “And that includes mistakes with my image.”
“Maybe,” he replies, and pauses. “But I think you’d make fewer mistakes if you had all the facts. You didn’t about Stephanie and you don’t about who leaked her past to the media.”
I quietly debate cutting him off and hanging up, because I still don’t see how it could be anyone other than him who did this. I know Sebastian wouldn’t, and no one else knew. My father takes my silence as permission to continue. “Avery, I have a lot of contacts in the media and a few of them owed me favors since I’ve given them exclusives with you before. And they all said that the original information about Stephanie came from Chance Echolls.”
I feel like I’ve been checked into the boards. I grab hold of the wall beside Seb’s front door. “What? But he didn’t break the story. If he was the one who found out first, why would he give the story away?”
“His excuse was that he was too close to the story with his brother on the team,” Don explains. “But he was worried you’d figure out it was his brother who leaked the story.”
I gave that shithead every opportunity to work with me.
“You boys treat the locker room like your own hen pen,” Don retorts with a bit of a chuckle. “You must have mentioned something to Ty or Alex in front of him.”
I did do that. A lot. And Beau was there every time. I just never thought he was listening. Or that he would be a big enough asshole to use personal information against me. Now I feel like an idiot. Of course he would. He hates me. He wants to make my life difficult.
“That piece of shit.”
“Yeah,” Don agrees. “I’m betting he got his reporter brother to do some digging into her past.”
“If this is true…I won’t share the ice with him again,” I say hotly. “I want him off the team and I’ll get him off the team. I’m done trying.”
When Don doesn’t say anything, I stop pacing again. “No opinion to share? No advice?”
“I’m not your manager anymore,” he replies.
“You’re rehired. Now spit it out.”
“Your manager thinks if you get him kicked off the team and the media finds out, they’ll paint you as a diva and a princess who threw a tantrum and cost a guy his career,” Don says flatly, and then pauses, takes a breath and adds, “Your father thinks you’ve put up with enough from this asshole and with him gone you can focus on getting this team into the play-offs next season. And when you win them a Cup, no one will give a shit what happened to Beau Echolls.”
