AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, considering that you have one of those now, Reese, it might be time that you stop acting like one.”
That stabs me in a way I wasn’t expecting. All my bluster, my fight, my fire—all the things that make me me—wither and die. It sounds too much like things Olivia has said. Only this time, it’s blunter, colder, and devoid of any of the love Olivia put behind all her words telling me to do better for Violet.
“Listen, kid,” Coach says with a sigh, “you’re one of my favorites. I can see you’ve got your hands full. I want you on the ice; I really, truly do. But this is how it has to be. You’re either benched, or we’re fucked. There’s no two ways about it.”
“And after the playoffs? What then?”
“Honestly, Reese, I don’t know. No one’s gonna forget this, not anytime soon. Maybe not ever.”
56
OLIVIA
They say that, when you’re at rock bottom, the only way you can go is up.
Bullshit.
What I’m learning is that it’s entirely possible to go lower than low. You can chew through that bedrock and keep going until you’re choking on mouthfuls of the earth’s molten core.
I have my feet tucked up under me on my mom’s couch. I’m wrapped in an old baby blanket that she sewed when I was two. The wear and tear on it is proof of love and the pale blue stitches running through the faded red fabric might be the last thing holding me together right now.
Despite Mom’s suggestion, I’ve had the news on since this morning. My face is all over it, plastered above cringe-inducing headlines, each one worse than the last.
I don’t know how they found out. I don’t know who told. I do know that the money I had squirreled away into my savings account will eventually dwindle down. As tabloids and gossip gurus speculate about my status as an escort, and people throw around words like whore, slut, jersey chaser, gold digger, I’m dying inside. Death by a thousand slurs.
All I want is to hold Violet again. I want to disappear into Reese’s arms and forget about how my career is tanked and my future is ashes. But I can’t even leave my mother’s house. The last time she tried to check the mailbox, she got bombarded by paparazzi asking what she knew about the situation between me and Reese. We’ve had the doors bolted shut and the drapes drawn tight since then. It’s like nighttime in here around the clock.
“… Are we really surprised, though?” speculates a bottle blond tabloid reporter that I hate on sight. “Reese Dalton has always been a perpetual bachelor throwing around money like it’s going out of style. It only makes sense someone would try to climb their way up by sleeping with him. Too bad the baby’s mother wasn’t smart enough to get her hooks in solid.”
“Maybe the nanny is the mother?” suggests her too-tan, too-white-toothed counterpart with a wickedly gleeful grin.
“Oh my God, a twist on top of a twist!”
“Livvy, shut that shit off.” Quinn comes around the back of the couch, bringing with her a plate stacked high with peanut butter, honey, and marshmallow sandwiches, cut diagonally like I like them. I hold my hands out so I can take the plate as she plops herself down beside me.
“Watching this stuff over and over isn’t good for you, O,” she warns.
“I don’t know what else to do. I just keep listening to it, thinking, Is this what people are really thinking about me? How am I supposed to move on from here? No one is going to hire me when they know I’m the slut nanny that slept with a hockey star.”
Quinn’s sympathetic frown is permanently etched into her face these days. “Sounds like a good reason why you shouldn’t be so invested in watching this trash.” She takes the remote and cuts the TV to a channel that shows reruns of early 2000s crime programs. “Good Lord, your mom is literally the only person I know that still has real cable.”
“Reese has cable.” When she gives me a confused look, I shrug. “He likes the experience of commercials.” I found that out one weekend he and I stayed in. Nothing but popcorn, reruns, and figuring out new ways to make love on the couch.
“What a weirdo.” She sighs. “I guess it’s too bad.”
“He keeps trying to get a hold of me,” I say, and Quinn looks at me, alarmed. “Like, texts and stuff. Apparently, he got benched.”
“Yeah, they’ll do that when the team’s public image gets tarnished.” She brushes my hair out of my face. “Don’t worry about it, Olivia. You deserve more than Reese Dalton, anyway. This is the first time being in the press for you… but not for him. The only reason anyone is giving this any credibility is because he’s a literal womanizing manwhore. And clearly, with this fake baby of his—which by the way, I still want to fight you over! Saying it was his niece, my God—he’s not… He’s got things going on that you don’t need to be a part of, babe.”
I sniffle, taking in everything that Quinn has to say. I don’t want to believe it, any of it. I knew exactly the kind of man Reese was going into this, but what we had was different. It wasn’t just some one-night stand, or an immature, impermanent fling.
We had feelings for each other.
I said I was his.
Maybe that’s all it ever was, chimes a negative, ugly voice in my head. Because when did he ever say he was yours in return?
Tears spill over the rims of my eyes. Quinn immediately pulls me into her arms, holding me tight. She lets me cry, and boy, do I. I ruin her shirt with my tears. She pets my head, comforting me until they finally settle down.
