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I flop down on the other bed and fold an arm behind my head. “How long are you going to be pissed at me for?”

Kingston moves his boxers from his suitcase to the nightstand drawer beside his bed. “I’m not angry.”

“Really? ’Cause it kinda seems like you are.”

He rolls his head like he’s working the kinks out of his neck before he turns to face me. “I’m disappointed.”

“About what?”

“How you’re dealing with this whole thing.”

“You mean the Stevie thing?’”

“What other thing is there?” he asks.

“It’s not my fault someone posted a video of us kissing.”

His lips thin, and he shakes his head. “Maybe not, but you’ve done nothing to dispel any of the rumors out there, made no statement; you haven’t even apologized to Rook.”

“What the hell do I have to apologize for?”

“For not thinking your actions through, Bishop. You put his little sister under a spotlight and did nothing to protect her after the fact. You say you’re into her and you want to date her, but your lack of action says exactly the opposite, don’t you think?”

“Stevie freaked out and told me she needed time to think and she didn’t want to be in my limelight, and now she won’t talk to me. Then Coach told me that my rehab with Stevie was over and that he better not find out I’m going behind his back. What am I supposed to do?”

“Something is better than nothing. That video has been up for four days, and you’ve done nothing. You dodge everyone’s questions and make no attempt to dissuade people from believing the worst. No one wants to be portrayed the way she is right now.”

“So what do I do?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Stop making her look like a puck bunny and claim her as yours.”

“But Coach said—”

“Coach and everyone else on the team thinks you messed around with her to be an asshole. No one actually knows you like this girl, apart from me.”

He makes a good point, one I hadn’t considered. “What if she doesn’t want to be mine?”

“At least you’ll have dispelled all the crap rumors floating around out there. You owe her that much, and the rest of your team, don’t you think?”We end up winning the game and I manage an assist, which is a damn miracle, considering how frosty my teammates are being. Understandably so, considering the conversation I had with Kingston earlier. In spite of Stevie’s lack of communication, I send her a message to let her know that I still think we need to talk. I want to address the video, but I need a little guidance from her as to the direction I should take, because what I want to say is in direct opposition to what she told Rook, and that will inevitably open a whole different can of worms. I’m not opposed to dealing with him. I need to know what stance I’m taking, because the last thing I want is to throw Stevie under the bus, even if I think her bullshitting her brother is pointless.

As done as I am with today, I hit the bar with the rest of the team. As usual, Kingston orders a glass of milk and I grab a beer. A handful of people we went to college with show up, which means one beer turns into several. I keep checking my phone to see if Stevie’s responded, but nothing so far.

On my way back from the bathroom I stop at the bar. I should probably stop drinking soon, or tomorrow isn’t going to be awesome, but Stevie’s lack of communication and my inability to take action are making me antsy.

Someone edges their way between me and another guy waiting at the bar. The perfume is familiar, and I glance over at the woman crowding my personal space.

“Shippy! I thought it was you! Couldn’t forget that back-end view if I tried!”

Shit. This is the last thing I need after today. “Penny.”

Her lipsticked smile grows wider, likely at my displeased expression. “Don’t worry, Shippy, I’m not here to start problems.” She flashes her hand in front of my face, diamond ring glinting in the dimly lit bar.

“Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?” At least I don’t have to worry about her hitting on me.

“Chuck Peterson. Owns the real estate company in our hometown. You remember him, right? He’s got billboards all over town these days. Biggest agent in the city.”

“That’s great.” Obviously nothing has changed since she and I broke up: always about status, money, and flash.

I order myself a beer and offer to buy her whatever she wants, because it means I’ll get rid of her faster. Of course she wants some kind of fancy-ass drink. Her eyes light up and she slaps my chest. “Let’s get a selfie! Chuck will be so jealous that he missed seeing you and King!”

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