“I took the time I needed.” I force a smile. “Doctors cleared me. I’m focused on tonight.”
Alex knocks his hand against my arm. “He’s good. We wouldn’t let him out there if he wasn’t.”
I love that he backs me up, but what I don’t like is the instant guilt twisting my stomach. Because Alex doesn’t know about the headaches that wake me up every night. Or the way the ice tilts sometimes if I push too hard. He doesn’t know that the doctors who “cleared” me never heard about any of it.
“Boston fans will be glad to hear you’re doing well,” the reporter says. “But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t bring up the latest viral video featuring you, Murphy.”
“Just one?” Alex jokes.
I shift in my seat.
“Well,” the reporter continues, “that’s a good point. Boston knows Jack loves the spotlight. But I specifically want to ask about Merritt Point. Your family suffered a devastating loss at the end of the summer, and the family’s restaurant burned down. You recently participated in a charity auction to benefit your hometown, and those videos went viral.”
I sigh. “I haven’t seen them.”
“He’s lying.” Alex throws his hands up as soon as I level him with a glare. The snarky bastard chuckles. “Everyone loves Jack.”
The reporter smiles down at her notes. “As I was saying, the videos went viral. Fans are very curious about the woman who won the highest bid. Have you taken her on the date yet?”
“It was for charity,” I say. “There was a lot of damage after the fire. Just doing my part to help my hometown.”
“She owns a lovely bookshop called the Salty Romantic,” Alex adds cheerfully. “All the WAGs love it. Everyone should check it out.”
The WAGs love it? That’s news to me.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I grumble.
“I’m married,” he counters quickly. “I live vicariously through you.”
The reporter giggles softly, then tucks a curl behind her ear. “So nothing serious to report there then?”
I meet her gaze, my smile somehow still stuck in place. “It’s one date. For charity. That’s all.”
“You have a certain reputation?—”
“I don’t want to talk about my personal life,” I cut in, surprised by the edge in my voice. Usually, I can keep the charm up, but it’s been two days since I’ve heard from her. She still won’t go out with me. And the flowers I sent didn’t win her over. My head is pounding.
The reporter raises her brows, barely masking her surprise, before she turns to Alex. “Speaking of married, how’s life off the ice these days, Alex? It’s been a few years since your romance with your wife had its own viral moment.”
He blinks. “Uh. Good. Busy.”
I catch the lie, surprised. Alex never lies.
“Great,” she says, already moving on. “Last question. What does tonight mean for the Breakers?”
Alex answers first, a little sharper than before. “It means we stop talking and start playing.”
I nod, feeling the loose grip of my charm melting beneath mounting frustration. I need to be on the ice. So instead of tiptoeing around, I give her the soundbite she wants.
“We’re here to play good hockey. Boston fans know it, and we don’t take that for granted. We’re a strong team this year, training camp proved that. Our lines are tight, and I’m in the best shape of my life. We’re going to win the Cup this year.”
Another flash goes off. Another spike of pain. I don’t even flinch.
The reporter thanks us and flags over the two new rookies for an interview next.
As soon as we’re in the hallway, I turn on Alex, loosening my tie. “You threw me under the bus.”
“You drove the bus, Murph. I’m just there for color. Everyone wants to hear from you.” His head is down, and his short dark-brown curls bob as we walk. “We’re going to have a good season, right?”
