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That’s when he realized that she didn’t know almost everyone on the team had been clued in about them. She wasn’t going to like that people were (again) talking about her love life behind her back along with all of the suppositions, innuendos, and rumors that came with that. However, he had to tell her. She deserved to know what she was walking into Monday at the arena.
“It could be anyone,” he said. “Even Blackburn knew. I guess some of the players have a bet going about us.”
She let out a deep sigh that seemed to come from somewhere under the crust of the earth. “Hockey players are the worst gossips.”
He couldn’t argue because it was true. “I can make a statement to the press and deny everything if you want. Maybe that would take the heat off of you.”
Astrid shook her head, her eyes watery. “It’s not me I’m worried about—I mean, yes, this sucks balls for me, but it’s my dad who is going to have to deal with it when he’d rather just focus on the game,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just wish—”
Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by three quick knocks on her door.
“Astrid,” Coach said through the door. “It’s me. We gotta talk.”
Chapter Forty-Five
The bathroom was the only place to hide in her apartment, and Astrid had been hunkering down in there a little too long for anyone to believe she wasn’t hiding. Still, she didn’t move from her spot sitting on the closed toilet seat lid.
Why?
Because going out where her dad and Cal were in some kind of silent standoff—that even Thea and Nola had noticed before they’d left—was more than she could deal with. Controlling her breathing was pretty much the only thing she had a handle on at the moment because everything else had exploded into chaos, and she was once again the center of hockey gossip. There would be calls from reporters. Her neighbors would get asked to take pics of her on the sly. The comments section on fan sites would be dissecting it all—just like last time. She’d take the brunt of the abuse about her ethics, her sex life, and her fuckability. Cal would be the guy who, like Tig, had gotten caught up in the web of a nepo-baby puck bunny. And her dad would spend his last year as a coach dodging questions about why his daughter kept fucking up team cohesion.
The taste of bile flooded her mouth as her gut cramped.
Fuck me.
She pressed her fist to the spot right below her ribs and literally told herself to inhale and exhale. Then she repeated it again and again and again until the urge to either throw up or book a flight on the first plane out of Harbor City lessened. If her phone wasn’t sitting on the kitchen island, though, she probably would be entering her credit card number for a ticket to Timbuktu.
What in the hell had she been thinking? She should have known it would come out. This was what happened when she broke her rules.
Why had she done that?
Because I wanted to.
The truth hit her hard enough to kickstart her anxiety to fuck-me-I-can’t-breathe levels. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose and exhaling it out of her mouth, Astrid focused on the weird lines on the fake wood floor that looked kind of like a cat driving a convertible.
In, one, two, three.
Out, one, two, three.
In, one, two, three.
Out, one two, three. In—
A soft knock on the bathroom door startled her out of her rhythm. “You okay, Button?”
“Fine, Dad,” she said, sounding anything but. “I just need a second.”
He made a grumble of acknowledgment and walked away, the sound of his footsteps getting softer as he did.
Her legs a little shaky, Astrid stood up. Turning on the tap, she ran her hands under the water and gently rinsed her face, letting the cold shock the anxiety away for a second. She pinched her cheeks to put some color back in them and forced her mouth into some semblance of a smile. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin up a few degrees.
You’ve survived this before. You can do it again. And anyway, this time is different.
Completely different—she wasn’t in her mother’s wedding dress.
But you’re still freaking out in a bathroom.
Utterly different—she and Cal weren’t engaged; they were a situationship at best.
