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We’re both doing this out of desperation, and I’ll remind myself of that for the next two years.
“The game is about to start up. I have to take you back,” he says.
“That’s a good idea.”
Just like he did to get me out to the middle of the ice, he lifts me up again and skates me back to the opening that leads down the tunnel.
One of the security guards opens the door for us and we exit the ice.
“Can you take her back to her seat?” he asks one of the security guards.
“Not a chance,” I hear the voice of Autumn Daughtry, from the meeting yesterday, walking up to us. “She is practically a Hawkeyes wife now. She’s coming with me,” she tells Ryker.
She links an arm around mine and Ryker releases me.
“Break her in softly. I don’t want her changing her mind before she says I do,” Ryker teases.
Autumn gives him a playful eye-roll and then pulls me down the tunnel, towards the underbelly of the stadium.
“She safer with me than with you,” Autumn hollers back.
“Probably,” Ryker agrees.
Then Autumn hangs a right at the bottom of the tunnel and I look over my shoulder right before we turn and we leave Ryker standing where we left him.
I hear the announcer start back up and then I hear the players marking out of the locker rooms behind us and headed down the tunnel towards Ryker and the rink.
“You didn’t mention that you were dating Ryker Haynes in your interview,” Autumn says.
Damn it!
Why didn’t Ryker and I work out what we were going to say ahead of time? He left me completely defenseless to come up with my own explanation. Hopefully, he hasn’t said anything to anyone I’m about to meet that I might contradict.
Just stay vague.
“I didn’t want special treatment,” although I didn’t mind marrying for it, I guess. I hate that I’m lying to her already. “We were keeping it quiet.”
“If quiet is proposing in from of a stadium full of people… then you two suck at it,” she says, looking over at me with a grin.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” I admit, grateful to be able to tell the truth for once.
“Yeah… I could tell.”
She could tell?
I look up at her for a second but she just keeps walking, smiling and waving at people she knows as we make our way out to the main area of the stadium where people are still in line at the concessions and bathrooms lines are backed up out of the doors.
If she knows something, she’s not letting on.
She leads me to the elevator I took yesterday up to the third floor for my interview.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To the owner's box. There are a lot of people eager to meet you,” she says, pressing the button on the elevator.
Once the elevator opens, she releases her hooked arm around mine and we walk inside.
A quick ride up to the third floor and then we head for a dark mahogany door.
