Page 80 of Rookie Attraction

“We don’t need it. I protect myself and my friends, including Finn.”

I stomped out of Berg’s room and back to mine…

Maybe my reaction was over the top, but it was too late to take it back. I hate lying, and to my captain of all people, but why confirm something that isn’t true? Yes, Finn and I kissed, but’s that’s the end of it. We’re not having sex, we’re not in a romantic relationship. Why fuck up Finn’s life—and mine—over one kiss?

Still, ever since I talked to Berg, I’ve been on edge. On the bus ride, on the plane. And it’s not about guilt for omitting some of the facts. The last thing I want to do is tell Finn to go away. It feels like betrayal. But when Finn approached me on the plane, I knew Berg was staring at us, so I had to do it. People are going to talk about me regardless of what I do or who I’m with, but Finn? He’s just starting his professional career. He doesn’t need that kind of pressure or to deal with rumours that will only stress him out.

Hours later, after the plane lands and we disembark, I catch Finn’s eye for a split second. I see hurt and confusion before he turns away, shutting me out. Like he should.

Outside, Kuznetsov, Tullmore, and Sorensen call Finn over, and I watch as the foursome heads off in a rideshare together. Makela and Berg ask me if I want to ride with them, so we set off for the hotel. The highway’s jammed with traffic, and I figure it’s going to take over an hour to get downtown. Pulling out my phone, I tap on my library app and select a book to read.

Anything but romance.

I’m engrossed in chapter three of a hockey biography when my phone rings. The name flashing on the screen has me smiling. I glance up to find Berg giving me a questioning look.

“It’s my brother, Karson,” I explain.

Berg’s expression clears. Jesus, is he going to be tracking my every move now?

Instead of worrying about that, I answer the phone.

“Hey, Kar, what’s up?”

“Heard you’re in my city, big brother. Don’t embarrass yourself tomorrow.”

“Like hell.”

“We’re ready to pound your ass, Kirkland number two!” Makela shouts, loud enough for Karson to hear. “But I guess you’re used to coming in second place, right?”

Makela is wrong. Karson played hockey in the Olympics, and his team did not come in second.

“Is that Makela shooting his mouth off?” Karson asks.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’d recognize his annoying yapping anywhere,” he grunts. “Tell him to shut it, and if not, I can do it for him by shoving my gold medal in his mouth.”

I try not to laugh and turn to my teammate.

“Karson says hi.”

Makela snorts. “No. What did he say?”

“He said to shut it,” I repeat with a smirk.

He doesn’t need to hear the rest. Makela motions for the phone and I reluctantly pass it to him.

“KitKat, I’m prettier and better than you in every way. And you can shove that gold medal up your ass.”

My laughter at Makela’s comment lets loose.

“KitKat?” Berg mouths, and I shake my head.

I’ll tell him later.

Karson says god knows what in return, and Makela turns redder than I’ve ever seen him, even after a game. Silently, he hands the phone back to me.

“Kar, what did you say?” I ask my brother.