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“Thank you again,” she conveys sweetly. “That was so thoughtful of you, Wells.”
“It’s the least I could do,” he replies. “We appreciate you takin’ care of our boy while he’s out for right now.”
I don’t think he means it, but Wells was always making sure everyone was good. Graham might be a born leader, but Wells is the class clown who checks in and does the extra shit.
“It’s not a problem,” she says. “I’m lucky to have—”
“Judson Wells,” exclaims a winded female voice. “Judson, can you comment on the woman you were seen with behind an alley at a bar last night?”
He brought the damn media attention.
I quickly shove my chair back; I’ve been here before. Wells draws publicity like he does oxygen. He doesn’t know how to be discreet. There’s zero modesty in that man because whoever Hollyn pointed out to him last night, he definitely took advantage of that.
“Oh my God,” I hear the woman say, followed by a bunch of flashing lights. “That’s Reid Pierce. Reid, where have you been? How’s the suspension going?”
“C’mon, Hollyn,” I exhort through clenched teeth. “Let’s get out of here.”
The poor woman is shell-shocked by the surrounding crowd and the attention it’s drawn over to us. Honestly, it takes a minute to get used to it. Being a professional hockey player comes with its perks, but this isn’t one of them.
I can beat men up on the ice and not catch an assault charge as long as I don’t take it too far. I could get into the best restaurants and clubs if that were my scene, but this shit I would trade any day of the week.
Hollyn isn’t moving quickly enough, and I gently pull her onto her feet. My jersey is still clutched tightly in her hands, and I’d love to see it on, but this is seriously not the time for that.
I fireman carry her over my shoulder, barreling through the crowd with her in my arms, and get us both the hell out of there.
Wells can have fun on his own with the mess he caused.
REID
“It’s perfect. Now, everyone doesn’t think that you’re some heartless asshole that doesn’t give a crap about anyone. I couldn’t have planned this out any better myself.”
I glare at the white siding of Hollyn’s condo. My brain was on the verge of erupting and taking out this whole city in one foul swoop of fury.
This wasn’t how going into New Brunswick was supposed to be. It was going to the game, showing Hollyn what hockey was all about, and then coming back to Boston to finish my prison sentence out with a bunch of clumsy kids.
Not headlines about how I cave-manned Hollyn over my shoulder and out of breakfast while Wells told everyone that I brought my lady friend to last night’s game and that I’ve been staying in Boston throughout my suspension, leaving everything open to the media’s interpretations.
I’m killing him.
It’s already decided and cemented into my brain. The next time I see him, I will watch the life drain from his eyes and enjoy every single second of it. Not only did he not help, he created a frenzy of attention to be strobed and centered right back on me again.
And not just me, Hollyn, too.
She’s associated with me whether I like it or not, and I don’t want her dealing with this shit. All the cameras and reporters wanting to know all the details of our relationship. How we met and what I’m like with her.
It was bad enough that they were all lined up outside my rental here in Boston, which led me here in the first place. I could’ve checked into a hotel with an alias, but my brain brought me to Hollyn’s place, where I might have a few minutes of peace. I’m sure people are hunting me down around every lodging imaginable around here, so Hollyn’s spot is the most secure.
And I’m the big douchebag for showing up unannounced in about two minutes once I lose the jackoff on the other line.
“Fix it, Dylan,” I order, tightening my grip on the phone. “I’m not dating anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter if you are or aren’t,” he retorts. “This girl brings you good press.”
“I’m not with her, so fix it. She’s not that kind of chick. Hollyn doesn’t like attention like that.”
“Did you ask her?”
What?
