Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Me: I don’t have any complaints about your abilities. *smiling emoji*
Anthony: *adds another point to your list*
Me: Yes! I really have to go, though. Talk soon?
Anthony: Talk soon.
I toss my phone into my bag, smiling the whole way into the arena.
*
We’re playing North Carolina, and so far, things are evenly matched. I’ve let two goals in, which pisses me off. Two too many, if you ask me, but their goalie has let in the same, so the score is tied. We break for the first intermission, and I go to the locker room. I fall onto the bench, tossing my helmet to the ground, and put my head in my hands.
“You good, Mads?” Rylan plops down beside me and squeezes my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m good. I can’t fucking believe that last one got by me.”
“It happens. I won’t let anyone get near you the rest of the game. We’re not letting anything else in.”
It’s just like Rylan to say we. It is a team sport, and it’s his job to protect me, but it’s not his fault that I let the puck get past me twice. I have no one to blame but myself.
Coach comes in and gives us a stern talking-to. He does his best to sound uplifting, but it doesn’t take a genius to read between the lines. He’s not happy, and he shouldn’t be. None of us should be.
After his lecture, we have a couple of minutes to decompress before it’s time to head back out. I tuck myself into my cubby and close my eyes, trying to meditate and relax as much as possible before hitting the ice again. It feels like no more than two seconds have gone by when I hear, “Oooh, shit. Madsies has a boyfriend! Why didn’t you tell us?”
My eyes pop open at Stevens’s statement. “What?”
He’s looking at his phone as he reads, “Looks like a second member of the Jilted Exes’ Club is dating a Los Angeles Rebel. Anthony Damiani has been photographed on multiple occasions with goalie Kason Maddox.”
I shove to my feet, heart slamming against my chest as I grab his phone. There are photos…lots of photos—us in the car, at the beach, from the sandwich shop. Me wiping food off Anthony’s face, hugging outside his building, kissing his temple. They somehow even managed to wrangle up photos of our first date when we had sushi, one the exact moment I touched his hand, making it look like I’m holding it.
“Fuck,” Rylan curses, and I know exactly what he means. This isn’t good at all. Just like all the Jilted Exes, Anthony has gone viral before. He had the most painful moment of his life spread all over the internet, everyone laughing and joking about him getting his heart broken, being cheated on, some of them even acting like it was his fault. People can be so cruel, acting like their words don’t matter because they’re typing them onto a screen. The last thing he needs is for this to happen again. It was a possibility, we both knew that, but I’d hoped we’d get ahead of it, that we’d know more about what is going on between us—if anything—before all this happened.
I hand Stevens back his phone.
“Anthony? Shit, man. Why didn’t you say anything?” Rylan asks.
“We’ve only been out on a few dates. Nothing official. I didn’t want to say anything until it was.”
Jesus. Does Anthony know yet? I can’t imagine this will be easy for him.
I turn to open my locker just as Coach announces, “Let’s do this, guys. Get your asses out there and win!”
Everyone begins filing out, and I don’t have time to message Anthony.
I can’t get it together for the rest of the game. My mind is on Anthony and those photos.
When I let in my third goal, Rylan skates over to me. “You good, bro?”
No, I’m really fucking not. Again, I knew this was a possibility, but I’d hoped to get ahead of it, and honestly, I didn’t consider how this might make them bring Anthony’s past with Malcolm into the news again. Is that all this is going to be about? A jilted ex dating a Rebel? It’s all finally slowed down since the media frenzy over Hayes and Rylan for the same reason.
“I’m good,” I lie.
When we lose two to five, I can’t help blaming myself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Anthony
In between each set at the club, I check the score. It’s tied at two heading into the first intermission, but I have faith in our boys to close out the game.
Only, that isn’t what happens. Mads lets in two back-to-back goals. He’s all over the place, his head clearly not on hockey. Rylan approaches him more than once, giving him some pep talk or something, but it doesn’t help. One more goal gets past him, the Rebels losing by three. I know he’ll be upset about it, but it could have been worse. Mostly, I’m just worried about him. I probably shouldn’t feel like I know him as well as I feel, but I do, and something is off…something is wrong.