The Romance Line (Love and Hockey Book 2)

Max

It was inevitable that I’d tell her the ugly story. At first, I figured I’d tell her so she could do her job better. So she could help me with my image. Now I wonder if my intention was always for other reasons.

Because I want her to know me—even the ugly parts.

I go down the cave of the past to places I don’t want to go. But she’s worth it.

“And Lyra was at the game. After we were tossed out for the fight, she was there in the corridor, checking on him. The press saw her take care of Bane,” I say, his name tasting like acid on my tongue.

Everly sighs sympathetically. “And that’s when it began. It became a full-on feeding frenzy.”

In retrospect, how could it not? “Yep. They thought I was fighting him because I was jealous. They all thought I was pissed that she didn’t pick me. Nobody knew what had really happened, and the gossip rags became obsessed. They kept pressing me all the time, and I wouldn’t give an inch. They wanted to know if I was really over her.” I huff out a breath. “But it’s honestly amazing how quickly you can get over somebody when they fuck someone else in front of you.”

Everly’s smile is understanding as she says, “I imagine so.”

“But they kept pressing me and pushing me and they wanted to know what happened. Why it ended. I never said she screwed my rival. I never said she cheated on me. What would be the point? It would make me look like a whiny child. I didn’t need that.”

“I understand. It sucks but I do understand.”

I thread my fingers more tightly through hers. “A week or so after the fight, the press was going at it. Trying to get to the bottom of the story. One night after a game, I left to go to Sophie’s house to get away from it all. I just needed a break. She was living in an apartment building then, and as soon as I got there, they were all waiting outside. So many paps. Everywhere, like flies at a picnic. This is America’s sweetheart, after all. All my protective instincts kicked in. Sure, they weren’t trespassing technically. They couldn’t actually be tossed off the lawn, but I wanted to throw them the hell out.” The memory rears up, along with it the residual anger over the invasion of my sister’s personal space.

Everly waits patiently for me to keep going.

“Sophie comes down to let me in and she’s holding Kade, and the photogs all start pestering her and rushing over to her. Kade was crying. More like bawling.”

I clench my teeth at the memory of my little nephew, and how scared he was in his mother’s arms. With no remorse for my actions, I shrug. “And I snapped, Everly. I snapped and shouted, ‘Get the fuck away from my family. Get the fuck off her property, you vultures. Leave my sister alone.’”

She presses her lips together, perhaps reining in her emotions, her reactions. But holding my hand and not letting me go. It feels like a metaphor or maybe I just want her hand in mine to feel like one.

“And it was all caught on camera. Every shitty word I said. The next day the reports were everywhere that I was so mad about Bane and Lyra that I made my nephew cry. I became the monster who scared his own nephew. That’s how they spun it.” I scrub a hand across the back of my neck, latent irritation rising up in me, but also…acceptance. Maybe the acceptance I didn’t have then. My gaze drifts to our fingers, twined together, then back to her warm, accepting eyes. “And there was nothing I could do or say. Because all the neighbors had cameras and had captured me swearing at the press. All the press caught was me telling them to get the fuck off her property, and they had Kade bawling as I did it,” I say, my jaw ticking, hurt coursing through me over my little nephew’s reaction. “No one caught me going inside and hugging the kid and comforting him. Didn’t show my sister giving me a hug. It just showed me looking like?—”

It’s ironic we were watching that movie after all.

“A beast,” she says softly, with no irony this time, even though she squeezes my hand harder.

“And then a month or so later, Lyra goes on and she releases that song, and I’m the angry asshole ex who broke her heart. That was it. I shut down. I went from being somebody who had a fun comment now and then for the media to someone who was rude and standoffish. Her song made it seem like I’d hurt her, like I’d left her, and she’d sought solace in Bane’s arms. She has always spun everything to be good for her.”

Something seems to flicker in Everly’s pretty eyes—like she’s adding up details. I’m not sure what to make of that look. I’m not sure what to expect next either. But I know what I didn’t expect—Everly to climb into my lap, wrap her arms around me, and give me a big hug.

“I get it,” she says softly. “All of it.”

I band my arms around her too, holding her close. Neither one of us lets go.

She holds me tight like I matter to her, like she needed tonight as much as I did. Everly isn’t an open book. She doesn’t let you in right away. You have to earn trust with her, and I want to earn everything with her.

When she lets go, I cup her cheek. “I want your stories someday, too, sunshine.”

She smiles tenderly with real affection in those eyes that are my undoing. “I had a crush on you when I was a reporter. Before all of this.”

This is news to me. “You did?”

“You were charming and funny, and you always talked to me, and you were just so…” She nibbles on the corner of her lip. “So hot.” Then she adds, “Still are.”

My heart thunders, then kicks in my chest when she comes in for a long, slow kiss that feels like more than a kiss. It feels like she’s telling me something. I don’t know what, but maybe it’s that she’s learning to trust me too.

Or maybe that’s just what I want it to mean. I don’t really know, but I want to find out.

When I let her go, the story’s done. It’s been told. But there’s one part I just don’t get. “What I don’t understand is why she was there today though. I really don’t get it. Just to come in and wreak havoc? ”

Everly’s eyes twinkle darkly. “I think I know,” she says in a bit of a whisper.

“Enlighten me.”

“The other morning when I was doing my online media rounds, I realized that shortly after you started posting on social media again, Lyra and Bane started liking your posts. After a few more posts, I think they realized this was real. You weren’t quiet anymore. And that scared her. So she reached out to you. She’s clearly all about image, and I think she’s afraid you’re going to say what really happened,” Everly posits.

“Okay, that makes sense, but why show up today?”

“It’s a distraction ploy. They’re afraid she’s not going to be America’s sweetheart anymore so they’re trying to change the narrative. She came without him, but I don’t think they’re actually broken up since they’re still liking each other’s posts. But they’re letting the media believe she wants you back. They’re creating this idea that she’s trying to get back together with the man she really loves because they’re afraid you’re going to tell everyone what happened. She’s trying to take over the story again. To drown out your voice with her louder one.”

I sneer, but then I also shake my head in amazement, not at Lyra, but at Everly. At her beautiful brain. “Fuck, you’re hot.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Why is that hot?”

“Because you’re smart. I love the way your mind works.” I take a beat, mulling over her thought process. “You really think that’s what they’re doing?”

“I do. She’s trying to stop you. But in this case—she wants to stop you from potentially saying something bad about her.”

“I was never going to,” I huff. “How the fuck would that help me? Especially now, when I’m trying to fix my rep? It doesn’t help me to talk shit about an ex. Garrett has even said as much—that brands don’t look fondly on people who badmouth their exes.”

Everly’s smile is soft as she says, “He’s right. But she’s scared. She’s worried you’ll ruin her reputation, so she’s trying to control the story. To remind the media that she’s beloved. It’s like she’s trying to build a wall around herself. So even if you revealed what happened, no one would believe you because how could they? She’s this popular singer who shows up at a dog adoption event and kisses puppies.”

That’s…insidious. I breathe out hard, but after a few seconds, I make a choice. To let the frustration go. To stop talking about her. To focus on this beautiful present and the woman in my arms. “I’ve had enough of Lyra. Enough of Bane. I don’t want to talk about them anymore. They don’t matter to me,” I say, running a hand over her hair. “But you do.” And to show her she’s the only one on my mind, I say, “Do you know what my favorite part of your beautiful brain is?”

“Which part?”

I tap her temple lightly. “The part that said yes to me, and now I want you to say yes to something else.”

She inches closer. “You do know you make it impossible to say no.”

“That’s my goal. So go on a secret date with me.”

Her flirtiness vanishes. “Max, that’s so risky. I’m trying for this promotion, and so is Elias and…” She stops, tilts her head, like she just remembered something. “Speaking of, did he see us in the equipment room?”

“I’m not sure. But I ran into him right after,” I say, then I tell her about the encounter. “You don’t think he suspects something?”

Everly closes her eyes, blows out a breath. When she opens them, she says, “He made a comment about it, and he also came into my office the day you sent the panties. Right after I opened them.”

“Shit. Did he see them?”

She shakes her head, but she winces. “No. But maybe he’s suspicious…and he really wants the promotion. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does. And he’s so connected, and he plays into the whole I’m a former athlete thing. Like he thinks that makes him a better candidate.”

My chest caves. I hate that she has to face these challenges. I pull her closer. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. Especially at work.”

“We just have to be careful around him. Around everyone,” she says, then frowns. “You know the team has this unwritten rule that employees can’t date players.”

Right. She said that at the rink with the kids when Becca teased her about having a crush on me. I wasn’t sure she’d meant it. My heart sinks to the ocean floor. “You mentioned that before. That’s real?”

She explains the reasoning, and I hate how she has to deal with this sexist rule.

“This thing can’t be anything more,” she says, but her tone sounds heartbroken, and that —that emotion—tells me something important. “Especially in the middle of us working so closely together on this makeover. We have the next event in a week or so. And then another one.”

Right. Step two—a series of community outreach events. And I don’t want to cause any problems for her at the next one like I did today. The next one needs to go perfectly, and I’ll do my part .

“I know,” I say. But I also plan to hold on to that emotion I heard in her voice. I plan to hold on to it and figure it the fuck out. Because I don’t know how to change that rule but I also don’t know how to change these feelings for her that grow stronger by the day. “That’s why I said go on a secret date with me.”

“Max,” she says, but it hardly sounds like a protest.

“You know you want to.”

She doesn’t fight it. She melts into my arms. “Of course I do,” she says, vulnerable and open and a little sad.

I’m not letting her go.

“Then say yes,” I say, wiggling my brows.

She narrows her eyes, swatting my chest playfully. “Are you going to ruin it like you did all my other dates?”

“Did I really ruin them?”

“Yes. You did. You turned down Joe. You didn’t even let Flynn get a word in so he could ask me out. And you sabotaged my date with Lucas.”

“Sounds like I was helpful.”

“Is that so?” she asks, but she’s smiling.

“It was in your best interest,” I say, unrepentant.

“And what is my best interest?”

I meet her gaze unflinchingly. “Me.”

“So you’re my type?” she asks.

“Fuck yes,” I say, then I sweep kisses up the side of her neck, then down her throat and to the top of her breasts, making her tremble everywhere. “So say yes.”

When I meet her eyes, they’ve already given me the answer before her lips do as she says, “Yes.”