Page 77 of Ice Rebel

“That’s terrible. I honestly don’t know how you can put up with all the vitriol tossed out by fans and other team owners, reporters. My God, what I read was insane. And horrifying.” For a few seconds, she glanced at the floor.

How could I blame her for not wanting any part of it? “You learn to cope.” Which was all I was doing. I had the same violent streak running through me as my brothers. I’d been labeled the quiet one, but the old adage was true. You had to worry about those who allowed their anger to simmer under the surface.

“Cole Kendrick. The Rebel.” She half smiled.

“I kind of like Roy.” I laughed, although nothing about this was funny. “And Clementine. Not that your real name isn’t beautiful. It is.”

She moved from one foot to the other, nervous and I hated that. “Yeah, I kind of like Roy and Clementine myself, but they’re two fictional characters.”

“But were they? Or just two people able to be themselves for a little while without all the shit?”

At least I’d given her something to think about. There was another moment of silence that was even more defining.

“I guess Jagger will be pissed.”

Every time she rolled her eyes, we were back in the bar playing pool. I hadn’t really thought about it, but I’d been more relaxed on our date than I’d been in a long time. “Jagger isn’t my keeper. But he is your teammate.”

“Yeah, I know. We don’t exactly hit it off.”

“I could tell. Don’t you have a game to go to out of town?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving in a couple hours. I’d like to see you when I get back. We should talk about everything.”

“Samantha is very proud of you. She mentioned you have a real chance to make the NHL, which I know is all you’ve ever wanted. You deserve to have everything you want. All the success. All the puck bunnies in the world.”

“Chelsea. I don’t know which pictures you saw, but we have someone who handles our social media. She’s damn good at creating scenes depicting debauchery on purpose. That’s what attracts fans. I know it’s crazy, but that’s what sells tickets. Those women mean nothing to me.”

“I’m not trying to suggest you can’t enjoy being a great hockey star. I’m just saying I don’t want to be a part of that life. I can’t be. I have a dance number to practice. Now, I know this theater isn’t glamorous and what I get paid by being a part of the group couldn’t afford me lunch two days a week, but it’s all I have.”

“What do you mean it’s all you have?” I took another step closer.

“You wouldn’t understand since your family is so supportive, which I’m glad about for you. Mine isn’t. This is my one chance to prove myself to my parents. My father thinks this is nothing but a nice little hobby meant to refine a woman.”

“Refine?”

“So I can catch a top-quality husband?”

What the fuck? What century were we living in? “That’s crazy.”

“Maybe, but this is my life. Dancing means everything to me. I can’t afford to become distracted by anything, which is exactly what I did for a little while. You don’t know my father and trust me, you don’t want to discover how he behaves. He’s a cruel, cold-hearted guy. If he sees even a small portion of the comments even without the pictures, he’ll do whatever he can to make my life miserable. And maybe yours. Like you, I have maybe one chance left to prove I have enough talent to make it.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing you told me. I can take care of myself, including with your father.”

She shook her head. “You’re still not listening. That’s not what I want to happen.”

Another more intense, awkward silence. God, I hated this.

“You’re an amazing dancer.”

“No offense, Cole, but you wouldn’t know.”

“I have eyes. That was amazing.”

Her eyes reflected an emotion that I couldn’t read, but I could feel her sadness, as if she’d been pushed into a corner and was drowning. As crazy as it sounded, I wanted to be her lifeline. “There’s a list of people who think otherwise.”

“Then they’re idiots.” At least that allowed me to see her smile if only briefly. “We can work something out to take the pressure off. I’ll talk to the Roxanne, the girl handling social media. She can pull some pictures.”

Chelsea shook her head. “Let’s just call what we shared exactly what it was. A one-time thing. When people realize we’re not together, they’ll stop talking. I enjoyed being with you, including your insistence that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, Roy.”