The presser itself was a minefield. My brief with Holly had her drilling me, feeding me lines, reminding me over and over to stay composed. But it came to nothing with how relentless the reporters were. Before the official start, a few had already fired questions at me about the article that had gone viral. Holly caught my eye from where she stood across the room, and shook her head firmly no.
So I kept my mouth shut, and waited for things to move along.
Coach started strong and took control off the bat. “Let’s focus on the game, people. Keep it professional.”
Two minutes in, and every question had veered into the other stuff. The “Purple Rose incident,” as they called it. My mystery woman, and why I was keeping her secret. Was she married?
One reporter kept pressing, “How did she react to your win? Was she at the game last night?”
“You’re in the wrong place if you’re expecting gossip,” Coach said. “I have reams of notes on my selection for our next game. Any of you interested in that?”
I tried to steer things back, talking about the team’s strategy for round two, my promotion to first-line center, even dropped a few generic platitudes about teamwork and staying sharp. Every time I thought I’d gotten traction, another reporter went rogue.
“Just give us a name.”
“You know we’ll find out everything in another day or so.”
“What’s the big secret?”
Something inside me snapped. I leaned into the mic, keeping my tone casual but firm, eyes on the cameras, letting it roll out naturally. “Her name’s Sage. She’s a talented tattoo artist, not married, and she hates hockey.”
Coach shot me a glare that could freeze pucks in midair. Holly’s eyes flared from the side. I didn’t know how else to respond. They weren’t going to drop it until I’d given them something.
“Okay, you got what you wanted,” Coach said, standing up. “Our time here is over.”
He dismissed the room with a wave of his hand, ignoring the click of cameras and disappointed groans that rippled through it. I sat a second longer, not sure if I should leave or not, but Holly jerked her head at the door and I jumped up.
Sage’s number was up and dialing before I cleared the doorway. But it just rang a few times, then went to voicemail. I looked around, expecting Holly to descend on me about tanking the presser, but she was across the hall, typing furiously on her phone. Clearly defusing the bomb in real time before she got hold of me.
Then Grayson appeared, moving through the small crowd milling around with that easy stride of his.
“I blew it.”
Grayson gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t take it too seriously. You’ll get used to it. The game’s what matters. And the Hollies of the world handle everything else.”
“Oh, good. Captain’s here too,” Holly said, suddenly popping up at my side.
Grayson shot a wink in her direction. “Heard you and Hunter are enjoying the new toy.”
“I’m gonna kill that man.” Holly’s cheeks flared.
I gave a nervous laugh. It felt weird being this deep inside the team, to be in on private jokes and stuff. Especially while still feeling like a total outsider.
Holly clapped her hands together and shook the energy back to focus. “Okay, team appearance at the Mission Valley charity event in a few days. I already have four of you flaking out, so I expect the first line to be there at least. Make a good show.”
“I’m sure Landon’s looking forward to raising some money for his girlfriend’s hospital,” Grayson said with a smirk.
“I, uh, I think it’s best if I give it a skip.”
Holly wasn’t impressed at all.. “Are you kidding me right now?”
I shifted my weight, unsure where to look, bouncing from her to Grayson. “I’m no good with public stuff. You just saw—”
“You don’t have a choice,” she interrupted, eyes hard. “I can only do so much, Aiden. It’s your job to make sure you get ‘good with public stuff’ because you’re the team’s newest center sensation. The spotlight’s only going to get hotter.”
Grayson laughed, clearly entertained by my attempt to weasel out of it. “Better to just go with the flow, man. In a fight with Holly, you’ll always lose.”
Her expression softened just a fraction, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
