“You don’t have to apologize.” She chuckles, unamused. “I thought we were careful.”
“We were. We just weren’t invisible. To be honest, I sort of expected it, because of that lady we saw with her cell phone. It was really odd.”
“I was thinking the same thing. People can be so nosy. Like, it’s not really that newsworthy, and it’s sad they make a livinginvading others’ privacy.” She pauses, then says, “I saved the photo as my phone wallpaper.”
Chortling, I shake my head because that doesn’t surprise me. “Are you trying to give your mom a stroke?”
“This has nothing to do with her. I’m making decisions for me now.” She hesitates, then continues, “Like I said, it’s a sweet photo of us. You’re looking down at me like we have our own little secret world. I love it.”
Pain twists under my ribs. “It’s not a secret world anymore.”
Her voice softens to a whisper, “I didn’t think the world would find out like this, but in a way, I’m relieved. I don’t want to lie anymore. The photo isn’t as bad as it could be. I just have to figure out an official timeline for breaking up with Bodan, which is going to be tricky…since I was just at his grandpa’s funeral. Ugh. I hate this.” Her voice trails off into a moan.
Sliding to the edge of the bed, I drop my feet to the floor and stretch one arm over my head, anchoring the phone to my ear with my other hand. “You know this doesn’t change anything for me. I meant it when I said I want to be with you. Maybe this won’t be a big deal, and maybe it will, but nothing changes.”
There’s a longer pause this time, and my brows furrow, because it’s an odd moment not to reply. After a few seconds, I wonder if she’s even there. “Lottie, did you hear what I said?”
“Ugh, Brett just texted me,” she says. “Apparently my mom is too mad to text me herself, but she wants to see me in her office in an hour, which is dumb, because there will likely be paparazzi there. Why couldn’t we talk at home? What a drama queen.”
“I can go with you. There’s no reason you should have to do this alone,” I continue, my voice firm and unyielding. “I don’t care if I’m on the front page.”
She exhales slowly, like she’s still deciding. “You have a game.”
“One thing will always be true; I’ll always have a game. That’s my job, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you too.” Icheck the digital clock on the hotel nightstand, and it’s glowing a few minutes after seven. I stand and grab a pair of shorts from my bag, hurriedly changing. “Besides, I can hurry and be over there to meet your mom at her office.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to fuel the rumors more—at least not until I figure out a timeline, which I’m sure is what my mom wants to do. You know she’s all about damage control. Nothing interferes with her image, not even her daughter’s happiness.” Her breath stutters. “You know, I’m not apologizing to her or anyone.” Her voice grows stronger. “I don’t regret it.”
“Good.” I pace the room. “Because I don’t either, and you shouldn’t apologize. I’m so sick of hearing you apologize to your mom for things you didn’t do. You owe her nothing.”
“Okay.” Her voice steadies, like she’s back in the logical part of her brain. In the background, I hear water running, like she’s getting ready. “I need to do something with my hair if I’m going to make it to town in an hour. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done talking to her. Is that okay?”
“Always.” I don’t intend for my voice to sound shallow. The dual meaning of the word makes my voice stumble, and it comes out breathy.
She catches it and echoes, “Always.”
We hang up, and I can’t help but Google the photo. If I’m going down for something, I at least want to know what it is. The image pulls up, clear as day without an ounce of blur, zoomed in tight on us. You can’t even see the fountain in the background, which tells me without a doubt this wasn’t an accident.
There I am, touching her back.
Seeing it sends a ripple up my spine, pulling me right back to that moment in the park. Lottie is right. It’s a pretty great photo of us for our first “couple” photo.
The caption reads:Looks like USA Stars team captain, Tyson Lane, has found a way to keep warm while he’s in DC. Yes, that’s Senator Halloway’s daughter, Lottie, who is in a relationship with scholar, Bodan Bowey.
The photo wouldn’t even be bad, but the caption is overkill. Running my hand through my hair, I fight the urge to message the reporter and tell them to kill the caption. It’s this kind of thing I can’t stand about fame. Who cares who I am standing next to? This has nothing to do with how I play hockey.
I know one thing—whatever comes next, I’m not backing away from Lottie. If anyone asks me about Lottie, I won’t lie. I’m not afraid of her mom. Well, maybe I’m a little afraid, but that’s because she makes laws.
But seriously, she could send me to prison for all I care.
Wait…can she send me to prison?
I don’t think she has that much power.
But she knows people who have that power.
Ugh, I’m getting way ahead of myself here.
Nothing bad will happen.
