Gage cocked an eyebrow at me.
“What?” I asked innocently. “I’ve been a good little boy.”
“Anything before this past month that could’ve had a delayed release?”
My eyes glazed over as I tried to think that far back, it felt like a year had passed not a month. Paige had shaken up my world enough to fuck with time now. “I don’t think so?” I honestly didn’t have a clue but rushed up to Lettie and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for the talk,” I said to Gage as I hurried toward his house.
“You going to grab that ratchet set on your way out?” Gage called just as I made it to his back door.
I turned around and shook my head, nearly forgetting that was the excuse I’d given him when I’d showed up unannounced at his door. He knew it was bullshit.
“Next time.” I ducked inside and stormed out his front door with a muttered apology to Bailey.
I took the highway, speeding well over the limit toward the rink. I’d just gotten off of Coach’s shit-list and wouldn’t give him another excuse to put me back on it.
Sprinting into the building and through the locker room, I made it with about twenty seconds to spare. Flushed and out of breath, I knocked on his opened door.
“Coach?”
He spun around in his chair, the purple vein in his forehead already puckered and throbbing.
Fuck my life. What had I done?
“Sit.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk, and I sank into it.
“What is going on?” I blurted out, unable to keep my mouth shut. I’d busted my ass at practices, killed it in games, and had steered clear of the bars for a month now. I shouldn’t be getting these kind of texts from Coach, damn it.
He rested his elbows on the desk, threading his fingers together as he took a long, deep breath. “You remember when I told you I was proud of you?”
Acid bubbled up in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “Yes, sir.”
“Did you think that was code for go off the rails again?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“When I said Ms. Turner was good for you, did you think I meant she’s good for you why don’t you rake her through the coals, publically?”
“Excuse me for saying this, sir, but what in the absolute hell is going on?”
Coach huffed, unimpressed by my complete obliviousness to whatever the situation was. He spun his monitor around, showing me the photograph that took up half of his large screen. I squinted at the shot, my mind quickly trying to rationalize when it had been taken.
Linda had her arms wrapped around my neck, my hands on her hips as I looked down at her outside the rink.
“Fuck!” I snapped, instantly clenching my jaw. Next to that picture was one of Paige, alone as she wiped tears from her eyes. It was a close-up shot as if the paps had zoomed in on her face, but I recognized the collar of the T-shirt she had—mostly because I remembered peeling it off her after a long, hard day of working at her site.
The headline suggested I was a cheating bastard who had broken Paige’s heart and now her emotional stability and well-being was in question.
“This is bullshit, Coach.” I jerked my hand toward the images.
“Is it?” He snapped. “There are ten more sites running the same images. Each one has a different story. Some are saying she stole you from the other one, labeling her as an adulterator.”
“It’s not true!” I bolted out of my seat, the adrenaline raging in my blood too much to take sitting. “That shot was taken months ago. Before Paige and I even…” Saying her name was like a reminder to take a deep fucking breath, so I did.
He examined me through narrowed eyes but eventually sighed.
“I believe you,” Coach finally said, eyeing the seat. I sat back down, each one of my muscles locked and tense. “But this is exactly the kind of shitstorm we don’t need. We have an actual shot at the Championship this season, and a media war with a company like CranBaby won’t help you keep your head in the game.”
“Coach, I promise you this has no grounds. Paige and I…well, I love her.” Shit might as well make a fucking announcement on the hottest gossip blog for how many people I was spouting my feelings too. Maybe it would help squash this shit. “I would never do anything to hurt her. Especially something like that.” I pointed to the screen again, and he turned it back toward him. “It’s the damn paps. They’re out for blood.”
“Aren’t they always?” Coach rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. “I had to see your reaction, son. That’s why I called you over here so quickly. I believe you. I can see it in your eyes you love this girl.” He finally looked up at me. “But can I offer some advice?”
“Please.”
“Lay low. The both of you. Stay out of public for a while, give the bloodhounds time to get bored and hunt for someone else.”
I nodded, wishing like hell I could track down the pap who’d snapped that shot of Linda and me. I fucking remembered the day. I’d been pushing Linda away, not pulling her closer. Fucking reporters.
“Is Paige handling this all right?” Coach asked, and I snapped my head up, my eyes popping wide. I stood up, my mouth hanging open. Had she seen it yet? Had her father?
“I have to go.” I turned toward the door before stopping. “I mean, am I…is it okay if I—”
“Go,” Coach cut me off. “Be honest with her. Make sure she knows the truth.”
“Right,” I said and bolted out the door. Seemed like all I was doing today was running. Only now I was headed toward a storm I didn’t know I’d survive. If Paige didn’t believe me—believe that picture was months old—then I’d lose her.
Ice cold fear clung to my gut as I sank behind the wheel of my SUV. I’d only just now realized I loved her and I wasn’t about to let anyone fuck it up for me.
Chapter 14
Paige
“Explain.” My father slapped a thin magazine down on my desk, the force of the action making me jump.
The cover of the magazine completely overshadowed the proposal outlined I’d been reading before he’d burst in. I studied the picture for several moments and re-read the headline and subtext four times.