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Across the room Derek's on the table getting his shoulder worked by Dr. Carter, who flew with us this trip, and he’s being about as pleasant as a bear in a leg trap, and she's needling him right back.

The two of them bicker like an old married couple who haven't yet been informed they're not married.

Derek catches me watching and glares. I lift my hands. Not a word. He knows I know. I know he knows I know. It's a whole language.

Here's the part I can't say to any of them. Years of headlines and not one woman ever cost me a giveaway, because not one of them ever made it past the boards in my head.

Margot has always been in my head, but as a fantasy. Now everything feels real and I'm playing the best and the worst hockey of my life at the same time, for the same reason, and I should be scared, but mostly I just want to get back to the hotel. To her.

She's in my room when I get there, on the edge of the bed with her shoes off and her hair down, swimming in one of my T-shirts.

Her auburn hair is loose around her face, her long legs folded up under her, looking like she belongs in my bed in a way that guts me.

And she takes one look at my face and holds out her hand. "That giveaway was not your fault."

"It was a hundred percent my fault." I let her pull me down, let her get my shirt off.

I put my face in her neck and breathe her in and feel the loss drain out of me.

I kiss her.

She pulls me down on top of her, and this is the one place in the world the slump can't follow me.

Afterwards we lie tangled in each other, her head on my chest, and it dawns on me that I'm happier in a losing-team hotel in a city I don't even like than I've been in years of winning, and it terrifies me.

"Jax." Her voice goes small in the dark. "It’s almost time."

"What do you mean?"

"This Saturday. We go public with our fake dating story." She traces a slow line down my chest. "Everybody's going to know a version of us that isn't even real. We’ll have to keep it up until the deal is signed but your image is officially repaired now."

She’s given me a deadline. We’re we end. I don’t know how to respond because I can't.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It's the group chat. Dont’ tell Coach.

Aiden.

everyone see the article?

I open it, and the headline sits there glowing in the dark room like a warning shot.

WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO JAX HUNTER? INSIDE THE BAD BOY'S MYSTERY SLUMP, AND WHO'S THE MYSTERY WOMAN BEHIND IT.

Beside me, Margot goes very still.

Chapter 8: Margot

The traveling press corps has gone from bored to interested. Questions being asked, and every one of them is a version of what's wrong with the Blizzards.

It's always blamed on the girlfriend. Can't the press come up with something more interesting.

I handle public image, and now I'll have to add my own name to the list. Well, just until this brand deal is signed.

I got careless and left Jax's room through the hallway door instead of slipping back through the adjoining one, and Noah caught me in the corridor.

He just looked at me and looked away. Soon everyone will know about our relationship. Even if it's fake.