Page 92 of Slapshot Bride

The drive takes twenty minutes. By the time I arrive, I head for Coach Brennan’s office, but not before taking care of Riley.

“You're going to stay right here while I talk to Coach and Diane.” I point to the chair against the opposite wall in the hallway. “I won't be long, and I'll do everything I can to find a solution that works for both of us.”

I take her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles.

“Then I'll take you home, and we'll figure out the next step together.”

I hold her gaze. “Deal?”

She looks at me. Without a word, she walks toward the chair and sits. I follow her. Her eyes are on the floor. I lean down and kiss her temple.

With one final look, I go in.

Coach is behind the desk. Diane is standing at the window in a black suit with her arms folded, the exact posture of a woman who has been managing a bad morning since seven a.m.

“Easton.”

“Coach.”

“Sit down.”

I sit.

Diane turns.

“Nike has been on the phone with legal since ten. Two other sponsors have quiet-flagged. The team publicist has been fielding calls from three national outlets. The story is trending in the sports vertical and it has not even hit the gossip cycle yet. That is coming. That will be worse.”

“I know,” I sigh.

“Do you? Because a few weeks ago you sat in this office and told me you would keep her invisible. And now I'm watching a photograph of your hand on her back circulating on every platform I monitor, with a caption written by Preston Sinclair's people, and I want to hear from you what the plan is.”

I look at her.

“The plan is I'm not hiding her anymore.”

Coach Brennan’s eyes land on mine, and I see his jaw lock.

“Blake.” The name he calls me when he’s about to hand me my ass.

“Coach. Hear me out. Preston isolated her for six years. He decided who she could see and what she could do and how loud she could laugh in her own kitchen. Every time I have let her be seen in the last month, she has come more alive. Every time. Hiding her plays his game. He came by my home a few days ago with a silent threat, and he’s acted on his words. He’s engineered this to force her out, but this works in my favor. In our favor. Going public is the only move that pulls her out of his frame and puts her in her own. And also secures my public image over time. There’s nothing that could be done now to erase the damage this release has already done, except to play by it and give them the truth they’re looking for. With that, he’ll have nothing left to threaten us with and everyone can move the fuck on.”

Diane looks at me.

“You are asking me to sell that to the sponsors?”

“I'm asking you to help me sell it. Soft launch. Controlled. On my terms. Not his. This is my private life with my woman. I have the right to date whoever I want. This woman, being Preston Sinclair’s ex, doesn’t exempt her from my radar. This isn't a crime, nor does it speak for my person or public image.”

She's quiet for a long beat.

“Preston Sinclair is exactly the wrong man to make an enemy of.”

“I’m not scared of him. He’s done the worst he can. Unless you want to tell me his influence can pull me out of the team forever. If it’s the sponsors on me, maybe I was never the right player for them.”

Coach’s eyes widen.

“Blake.” He’s absolutely dumbfounded, but I couldn’t care less. Hockey has paid me enough to let some money slip if it’ll cost me my peace. “Are you sure you want to go down that road?”

“It’s a decision I made the moment he showed up at my doorstep.”