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I sit down on the bench in front of my locker, where I find Jonas waiting.
“Hey. Everything will be fine,” he says.
“I don’t know man. The manager’s making noise about a possible suspension.” I drop my head into my hands. “I’d hate for this to have some kind of negative impact on team dynamics.”
“Don’t worry, man, the team is behind you all the way. Now the press… that’s another story.”
“No shit. And the worst of it is, I think Petal hates my guts.”
“Nonsense. I saw how she looked at you. We all did. Now let’s get up to the weight room. The sooner you start, the sooner you can leave. ‘Cause we all know where you need to go.”
32
RAKE
I pullmy Range Rover into the drive in front of the tiny little cottage that Petal’s been calling home, weaving around a TV truck and a few douchebag reporters camping out in front of her place.
She must be losing her shit. She’s a private person, not used to this crap.
As soon as the news crews see me pull up, they swarm my car to the point where it’s hard to get out, which has always struck me as stupid. If they want a decent photo or even a quote, don’t they need me to get out of my vehicle first?
Rake, why did you engage in a fake marriage?
What’s going to happen with Petal?
Are you planning a divorce?
“Guys, guys,” I say, holding my hands up in an effort to quiet them down. “I appreciate your concern. But I’d really, really appreciate your leaving Petal alone. She’s a private citizen who deserves her privacy. You know you always have access to me. But Petal is a different story. I’m sure you understand that.”
I’ve never been one for reasoning with the press, pretty much usually ignoring them and hoping PR people like Vince give them their fill of news. But this bullshit is not only about me.
“I don’t care what you people think you heard or what rumors are swirling around. I care about Petal. Very much.”
Holy shit. Did I really just say that?
“Rake, why does Petal stay up here? Why isn’t she with you, down in the city?”
My temper starts to flare that these people are not backing down. But I remind myself they are trying to do their jobs.
“It’s no secret she stays up here on her mom’s winery a few nights a week to make it easy to get to her job at the Twisted Hearts bookstore in town. Her work there means a lot to her, and I support her doing what makes her happy.”
Holy shit. I really sound married. I turn my back on everyone and push Petal’s doorbell. I have no doubt the press will have a field day with the fact that I don’t have my own key, but fuck them.
I feel a wave of relief when Petal pushes aside the lace curtain on the front window and throws me a little smile. The door unlocks and she opens it just enough to let me in, then slams it shut and locks it again.
My stomach seizes when I finally get a good look at her. I saw her only the night before. It’s incredible the difference a few hours can make.
She has dark circles under her eyes, and her nose is red like she’s been crying. I look around the cottage, my first time here, and see a pile of crumpled tissues on the floor next to the sofa, and a bunch of half empty mugs of tea.
I rush toward her and reach for her hands, but she backs up, pretty much destroying what little hope I have of getting back into her good graces. But I’m not giving up.
“I’m sorry, Petal. I’m sorry for what this has done to you.”
She plops down on the sofa and points to the easy chair next to it. I grab a seat, hating to be sitting so far from her. But I follow her lead.
“I drove up here as soon as I saw your text. Even left practice early, which I’m sure Coach will bitch about later.”
She looks surprised.
