“Oh come on, Tate, we were never friends,” Tara replies, her voice carefree because she gives zero shits she just complicated the hell out of my life just as things were finally on the verge of getting easier. “You were nice to me because you wanted to fuck me. And that’s still on the table. But I can’t sacrifice a good scoop for a potentially good lay. And he contacted me.”
“Who?” I demand.
“The nanny’s brother,” Tara replies. “Anyway, you’re a hockey player. This will blow over quick. L.A. is a basketball town. Relax. Now do you want to tell me your side? Clarify any of this?”
I hang up. Mallory has moved and is standing directly in front of me. I look down at her, but I don’t really see her. I’m just furious. “You told your brother.”
“What?” She blinks and her whole face changes. Her eyes are heavy with guilt. “I…”
“You told your family and they told the tabloids,” I tell her and run my hands into my hair, frustrated. I start walking toward the door. “Fuck, Mallory! You knew this was private!”
“I told Emmett. I mean, he figured it out on his own, but you had already told your parents,” Mallory explains, her voice high and wavering. “And you were supposed to have already told the team. I didn’t think?—”
“No, you definitely didn’t.” I start towards the door. “We have to get home. I have to call Coach and Adam back and?—”
The door flies open and Christine is standing there. She is still in her work clothes, and her expression radiates fury even from across the room. Her eyes hone in on me immediately and I walk toward her. Mallory, I realize, is scurrying along behind me. “Christine, I asked for that meeting today so I could tell you.”
“A kid?” Christine says, her voice hard but also confused. “You? Jesus Christ Tate, you should have told us the second you found out.”
“It was complicated at first and I had to sort some stuff out,” I explain. She shakes her head.
"All you had to do was tell us. Do you think this is what we want now? One game from the end of the season, when we should all be focused on Landon and the playoffs, we have to deal with your trailer park drama."
“Christine…” Crew says warning her of the lines she’s crossing.
"No one asked you, Crew." She holds up a hand in his direction. Then her eyes land on Mallory. “You proud of yourself?”
“Me? I…” Mallory sputters. “I didn’t want this to happen.”
“Then maybe you should have kept your mouth shut,” Christine snaps at her. “And your legs. Because I’m guessing you aren’t just in this for the baby.”
“Whoa.” Nash walks up. “That’s uncalled for.”
“She’s the reason we’re in this mess,” Christine replies without an ounce of remorse in her tone. “And FYI, my source at TMZ says this was a paid tip. They paid someone to spill this shit. How much did you get?”
Mallory shakes her head. I turn to Crew. “Can you take her home? Can she stay with you for a night? I have a lot to deal with.”
“I don’t… Tate. I can’t stay with Crew,” Mallory replies, her voice is shaky now. Her eyes wide with fear or confusion, but I’m drowning in a lot of very hard, horrible emotions myself and I can’t. I just can’t.
“I have to get home to Dylan,” I reply. “And I have to sort out a statement and stuff with Christine and… I just can’t with you right now.”
“I…” She blinks and tears flood her eyes.
Crew puts a hand on her shoulder. “Come on.”
Mallory looks devastated. “I didn’t do this on purpose.”
“But you did do it,” Christine points out and grabs my arm. “Let’s go, Tate.”
“Tate!” Mallory says, her tone pleading.
"I'll talk to you later," I say, my tone ice cold. Everything in me is running cold, my blood, my thoughts, my mood. I want nothing to do with anyone. I just want to go home and see my son but instead, I have to deal with this and then maybe I will be able to thaw my heart and handle whatever is left between Mallory and me.
Chapter25
Mallory
Crew watches me as he shrugs into his suit jacket. His eyes are kind and soft, looking at me curled up in the corner of his couch like I'm a wounded puppy at a shelter. "You really should come with me."
