AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s all you want?” I ask suspiciously. “You just want me to interview him?”
“Yes. That’s it. I swear to God,” Piper exclaims before making a cross sign on her heart.
“And if I get any bad vibes from him or he doesn’t pass my red-flag questionnaire, you won’t give me a hard time if I send him packing?”
“You won’t hear a peep out of me. Pinkie swear,” she replies, holding out her pinkie finger for me.
“You’re so lucky I love you,” I grumble, linking my pinkie with hers.
“Don’t I know it?” She laughs, tugging at my pinkie. “I’ll owe you big time for this.”
“Oh, you better believe it.” I groan. “And you can start by paying for lunch.”
“You got it!”
It’s only after I’ve left the restaurant and am walking the two blocks back to my office that it hits me.
I just committed myself to interviewing one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors who just so happens to have one killer left hook.
And the saddest, most stunning, hazel eyes I’ve ever seen on a man.
Piper is going to owe me big time for this.
Chapter 5
Nathan
After the shitty week I’ve been having, you would think the last place I wanted to be on my day off was at a christening, and you’d be right. Dressed up in a lame-ass suit and tie to watch a priest pour water over a crying baby’s head isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
But then again, how much trouble could I possibly get into in a church?
Might as well suck it up and call it a win.
Lord knows I need one.
For the past few days, I’ve followed Coach’s orders religiously. I’ve kept my head down and limited my interactions with the outside world by just going to practice and straight back to my place afterward. Unfortunately for me, it must be a slow news week because the press has barricaded themselves outside of the stadium and my home. I can’t even go outside for a walk without some camera flashing in my face or a journalist badgering me for a quote. Last year, I blocked more shots thanany other player in the league, and I still didn’t get this much news coverage or notoriety.
The hounding press isn’t even the worst of it.
Even though everyone and their grandmother warned me to stay off social media and hockey forums, until the dust has settled, there really isn’t much to do when you’re on house arrest, other than to go online.
Bad-fucking-move on my part.
It took all of fifteen minutes for me to see that I’m in more trouble than I realized. It’s one thing to be in the doghouse with the GM. It’s a whole other ball game pissing off the team’s diehard fans. They’ve made it very clear they don’t want assholes like me wearing the Boston Guardians traditional white and green colors, and it’s going to take a miracle for me to win back their trust. If I mess up this hockey season even just a little, the fans will jump at the chance to demand that Trent Nichols gives me the boot.
Not suspension.
Not trading me off to another team.
But fire my ass.
Whoever said that there’s no such thing as bad publicity has never met a disappointed Guardians fan. I’ve given my blood, sweat, and tears to this club, and yet no one gives a shit. Not after that fucking video went viral. Suddenly, I’ve become the poster boy for toxic masculinity. Although hockey is as close to a blood sport as it comes, no one wants to support a team with a prick who gets his rocks off by beating someone half his size.
Thing is, if it were a player from some other team in this situation, I would feel exactly the same way the fans do. I’d be fucking pissed too. Livid, even. Bastards who beat on people weaker than them are fucking scum in my book. The lowest of the low.
It just sucks that people now believe I’m that type of asshole—something I spent most of my life not wanting to become.
My worst nightmare come to life.
