“I dunno. We were hoping he’d change his mind and drop the story, but it doesn’t look like that’s happening anytime soon.” I rub the back of my neck. Damn, it’s tight. It feels like all the pressure and tension of the last seven days have taken up residence there. “Coach Keller even offered to give him a media pass for the Frozen Four if he let the story go. And I caught Coach Garfunkle doing some shit with incense and chanting. But nothing seems to have worked.”
Not that I really thought Coach Garfunkle’s method had a chance in hell of succeeding.
Lex frowns. “So what now?”
“My dad, Coach Keller, and someone from the Barons’ PR department helped me prepare a written statement telling my side of the story. The plan is to release it before that punk reporter publishes his version.”
“Wow.” Lex’s eyes widen. “That’s bold.”
“Yeah, but they think it’ll blow over faster if we get ahead of the story and take the wind out of his sails.”
“Makes sense.” He nods thoughtfully, and for a split second I think that’s the end of the interrogation. But no. I’m not that lucky, not today. “Next question. I hope you’re ready for the really tough stuff.”
“You mean the past ten minutes hasn’t been tough?”
“That was a warm up. What I really want to know is what you’re going to do about Kolby.”
He’s right. This is the tough stuff.
“Did you miss the part where he’s the reason I’m in this mess? He pretty much admitted that it was his fault the reporter found out about Chase.”
“Come on, dude. You know Kolby. Do you really think he’d go around blabbing your personal shit all over the place?”
No, I don’t. And that’s the problem. The more time I have to think about it, the more I realize that I should have given Kolby the chance to defend himself. I was pissed off and hurt, and I let those emotions control me. Skipping improv class. Ignoring all of his calls and text messages. Eventually, he gave up trying to contact me, and now I don’t know how to open that door again.
And I want to open that door. No, Ineedto open that door. Kolby is it for me, I know that now. He’s my GOAT boyfriend, the only one who’s ever put me first, who accepted me at face value and didn’t ask me to change or hide or deny parts of who I am. The Frozen Four. The NHL. It’s all shit without him.
Lex bumps my shoulder with his. “Talk to me, man. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. We’re a team, remember? On the ice and off. Let me help.”
“I fucked up. Big time.”
“That goes without saying. But what exactly did you do?”
“It’s more what I didn’t do. I was so fucking mad when Coach told me what that reporter was saying about me. And scared shitless everything I spent years busting my ass to achieve was about to go up in smoke. So when Kolby tried to explain what had happened, I shut him out.”
“Seems like an easy fix. Just admit you messed up, and let him know you’re ready to listen.”
“I’ve been ignoring him since the game. Wouldn’t answer any of his calls or texts. I’m not even sure he’ll want to talk to me now.”
Lex lets out a low whistle. “I’ll admit, that makes it harder. But you know what they say.”
“No, what?”
“Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
I rub my temple. This conversation is starting to give me a headache. Or maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. “Isn’t that a song lyric? Rhianna, maybe? Or Katy Perry?”
I swear I’ve heard it in one of those rah-rah, I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, girl-power songs.
He raises one shoulder then lets it drop. “Maybe. But I’m pretty sure Teddy Roosevelt said it first.”
I’m about to ask him how he got so smart when Cal pokes his head in from the dining room. “Hey, Serrano. You’ve got a visitor.”
My irrational heart does a little happy dance, thinking maybe, just maybe, Kolby’s made it easy—or easier, at least—for me to fall on my sword by coming to me. But my heart stops dancing when I see that the person Cal is ushering into the living room is female. And not just any female.
Kolby’s sister, Hannah.
She marches straight up to the couch and plants herself in front of me, hands on her hips, attitude radiating from every pore.
