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“We were never even married, you chucklefucks,” she grumbled before going back to her scroll and clicking on the next headline.
Nothing But The Puck kept to their hating-all-things-Ice-Knights ways with JONES CAN’T STOP THE PUCK OR HIS COACH FROM DATING HIS EX. As if Tig had anything to do with who she got to date? What the fuck kind of patriarchal bullshit was that? Plus, Tig had actually improved his save percentage to almost his former level.
“Also?” she said as she clicked back to the search results page. “Go fuck yourself, assholes.”
She tapped the WHO MAKES THE BEST COUPLE headline that took her to the blind item site Hot Goss and their poll asking which combination of the three of them made the best couple. Cal and Tig were winning that one three to one.
“Nope. I’m cutting you off.” Thea snatched Astrid’s phone out of her hand and replaced it with another shot of vodka. “It’s medicinal.”
Astrid drank it before she could think better and chased it with a handful of cajun fries Nola had brought from Vito’s. Maybe she was in shock. Maybe it was the impact of the 40 percent alcohol by volume of the chi-chi vodka made from French grapes. Maybe it was both. Either way, it was like she was inside ten layers of bubble wrap, and although she could see disaster through the clear plastic, she couldn’t feel it yet.
She grabbed another fry and dragged it through the ketchup Nola had squirted onto the ripped bag. She loved these fries. She knew she loved them. And yet she could taste nothing. “I’ve ruined Dad’s last season.”
“No, you haven’t,” Nola said, her words more confident than her tone. “This will blow over.”
“Like it did last time?” Astrid snapped, feeling as if at least five layers of bubble wrap were ripped off all at once.
In half a heartbeat, she was back in the dark days after the wedding that wasn’t when her every move was tracked and photographed. Her skin crawled with the panicked need to look around as if the paparazzi had somehow gotten cameras in her apartment. She couldn’t live like that. Not again.
“Okay, last time was bad,” Thea said, giving her an encouraging smile that only wobbled a little. “But this is different.”
Astrid snorted in disbelief as she clenched and unclenched her hands in an effort to focus on something besides her racing heart.
“It is,” Thea said.
“Yeah?” Astrid asked, giving in to the anxiety whipping through her as her skin started to physically sting from the remaining layers of bubble wrap getting yanked away and her voice getting more and more ragged with each word. “Is that because there are fewer content creators out there looking for their next viral click than there were five years ago?” Apprehension twisted her insides tighter and tighter until it was like she was going to snap in two. “Is it because Ice Knights fans aren’t completely obsessed with every little tidbit about their hometown team? Is it because the rest of the hockey fans out there don’t want to read about anything that puts the Knights in a shitty light? Or is it because sex doesn’t sell?”
Thea opened her mouth as if to argue but then closed it because there wasn’t anything she could say to refute it. This was a juicy story that was going to be the focus of attention just as the season was getting underway. Astrid could run away again to get away, but her dad was going to have to stay and deal with all of the questions and innuendos and team dynamics during what should have been his dream last season.
“Fuck,” Nola hissed under her breath and then flipped her phone over on the kitchen island.
“What is it?” Astrid asked, the vodka sloshing violently around in her stomach.
Nola’s face went neutral—too neutral. “Nothing.”
Astrid grabbed the phone before Nola or Thea realized what she was doing and punched in Nola’s birthday as the passcode.
The lock screen disappeared, and the Instagram app opened up to a photo of a woman holding a beagle. But that wasn’t what made Astrid groan. It was the upper right corner part of the photo that was circled in red. And inside that circle? Her and Cal standing in the open doorway of their building looking like they were about to kiss. Astrid swiped to the next image. Now they were kissing. She swiped again. Now he had his hands on her ass and was picking her up. She swiped again. Now she had her legs wrapped around him and was kissing him like she was trying to suck his soul from his body.
KISS AND TELL: OUT OF TOWNER THOUGHT SHE WAS JUST TAKING A PIC FOR HER FRIENDS BACK HOME, BUT AS YOU SEE IN THESE EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS, SHE ENDED UP CATCHING QUITE A SHOW. “AS SOON AS I SAW THE NEWS TODAY ON HOT GOSS, I REALIZED WHO THE COUPLE WAS,” TOURIST SAYS. DOES THIS CHANGE YOUR VOTE ON OUR WHO MAKES THE BETTER COUPLE POLL? LINK IN BIO.
“Fuck me,” she said with a sigh and handed the phone back to Nola and then laid her head down on the island.
“Oh Astrid,” Thea said, petting her hair. “We’ll figure this out. We can—”
A knock at the door cut her off.
It had to be Astrid’s dad. Oh, this was not good. She’d texted him earlier to give him a heads-up and he’d told her it would be okay, but it obviously wasn’t if he’d come over. Her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as she stared at the door.
“Do you want me to get it?” Nola asked, her chin going up like she expected trouble.
“I’ve got it,” Astrid said as she got off the stool. Bracing herself for her dad’s inevitable disappointment, she crossed over to the door and opened it.
Except it was Cal who stood in the hallway, looking about as different as possible from the sleepy but happy guy who’d given her shit for being a snoozeaholic this morning. His mouth was flattened into a grimace, his shoulders were drawn up tight, and he looked at her with a staggering amount of regret.
“You got my message,” she said, barely resisting the urge to wrap herself around him and bury her face in his chest. God knew if someone was lurking in the hallway, camera phone at the ready. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who tipped them off, and this just complicates everything for you and—.”
“No,” he cut her off. “They found out because of me.”
