“Hockey’s hockey,” I say evenly. “Peyton has nothing to do with that.”
Except she has everything to do with it.That’s the terrifying part.
Another reporter jumps in quickly before the tension gets worse.
“You’ve always been pretty private. Has it been difficult having your personal life become such a public topic?”
Yes. More than you realize.
Peyton was never supposed to become visible.
She was supposed to be safe. Untouched by this world. Especially from people like my father and Landon. From people who consume women and spit them back out for entertainment.
Instead, the entire internet suddenly knows her name. And somehow that feels unbearable.
I lean back in the chair slowly. “I care whether she’s okay,” I say finally.
The room goes still enough that I realize too late what I just admitted.
Fuck.
Connor audibly whispers, “Oh my God.”
The reporters immediately start talking over each other.
“Daltyn—”
“Can you elaborate on?—”
“Would you say you’re in love with?—”
I stand up. This interview is over. “Thanks, guys.”
“Daltyn—”
I’m already walking away.
The PR assistant jogs beside me the second I step out of the media area.
“Well,” she says carefully. “That clip is definitely going viral.”
Fantastic.
Exactly what I wanted.
I scrub a hand over my face while Connor catches up to me.
“You said you care whether she’s okay,” he whispers dramatically.
“I’m going to hit you with my car.”
Connor clutches his chest. “You’re in LOVE.”
Ford walks past us, shaking his head. “You basically handed the internet engagement rings.”
I ignore all of them.
Suddenly, all I want to do is leave.
