Page 159 of Slapshot Bride

“You should see your phone,” she says. “But drink this first.”

I take the coffee.

“I... it's dead. But I need to reach Easton. Warn him. Find a way...”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Come.”

She walks into the room and sits on the edge of the bed before patting the mattress beside her. “Here.”

I just stare at her.

She's in such a good mood that, for a moment, I wonder what's gotten into her. Doesn't she understand? She’s not taking this seriously at all.

“Oh, Riley. Come on, you worry too much.”

“Mom…”

“Relax, dear. It’s sorted, and Easton is fine.”

I frown. “H-he is?”

She chuckles again.

“It’s everywhere,” she says. “The engagement. Somebody at that party filmed your father. There’s a video.”

“What?” My eyes almost fall from their sockets.

“The Sinclair people are calling it a private family disagreement. Your father has already had three calls this morning, and he’s answered none of them.”

I sit down beside her, my legs suddenly feeling weak.

“And about Easton,” My mother sets her mug down. “Mason called. About twenty minutes ago.”

Something in the way she says it makes my stomach drop.

“Is he okay?” My voice drips with dread.

“He’s fine, honey. He called me because—” She stops, and starts again, more carefully. “He said he didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

“T-tell me what?”

“He’s been watching the sports news.” A small, sad smile. “My son, who has never known which teams exist. He’s been reading about hockey for two weeks because he wanted to know what that boy was doing.”

That makes my heart squeeze.

The image of Mason, who has no regard for sports news, sitting just to read through multiple headlines, watching out for Easton simply because he found out his best friend, who’s a hockey player, has something going on with me, and he doesn’t believe it’s fake. He’s monitoring him. Watching him for me.

My chest aches.

“Riley.” My mother takes my hand. “Easton went to his team last night. On the record, with their lawyers. About a woman named Maya, and drugs, and six months of paying her to keep the footage private.”

My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat, and I sit still, unable to process her words.

“N-no. He wouldn’t do that. I mean… he can’t. It’s risky…” I shake my head and pull my hands from hers, refusing to believe Easton would jeopardize his career like that.

“There’s a statement out from the club. Mason said it came through around six this morning.”

I don’t say anything.