Blind Pass (Carolina Comets)

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Blind Pass (Carolina Comets) Page 17

by Teagan Hunter


  “Oh god.” Rhodes groans and stands up. “I’ll go get him down.” He ambles away in search of his friend.

  “Did I just interrupt something? It looked like whatever you two were talking about was pretty intense.”

  I wave her off. “Nah. I’m sure it was nothing.”

  Except it didn’t feel like nothing.

  It felt like something. Something big.

  “Okay, puh-lease tell me I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing right now.”

  A woman stands at the end of the table looking at the opposite side of the parking lot where Rhodes is trying to coax Collin out of the tree.

  “Unfortunately, that is exactly what it looks like,” Harper confirms for her.

  “I…wow. And to think, those are professional athletes.”

  “Underneath all that hockey player bravado, they’re boys. And we all know—”

  “Boys are dumb,” we all three say at the same time.

  We burst into giggles.

  The woman takes a seat next to Harper, then sticks her hand out to me. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Scout, the owner and resident baker.”

  “You’re the brilliant woman behind these amazing donuts?”

  She nods as I slide my hand into hers. “The one and only.”

  “I’m Ryan, Rhodes’ wife.”

  “Oh, I’m aware. Those headlines were…wow. I don’t know how you do it. I’d die being in the spotlight like that.” She shudders. “But congratulations on the marriage. You two look so happy and in love.”

  Harper and I exchange a look, trying to hold back our laughter.

  “Thank you. It was a whirlwind romance, that’s for sure.”

  Scout sighs dreamily, dropping her chin into her hand. “Romance…that sounds so nice. And so far out of reach.”

  “Trust me, it is not all it’s cracked up to be. Case in point”—Harper points to where Rhodes is still trying to get Collin down—“that.”

  Scout twists her lips up. “Point taken. I just wish…ugh, never mind. Ignore me. Just the mindless ramblings of a woman who is perpetually single and sad because she’s an aspiring romance novelist who has never been in love.”

  “You write romance?” I perk up, excited because love.

  “I dabble. A dream, really, you know?”

  “I’d love to read what you have. I’m a huge sucker for all things romance.”

  “It’s true. It’s annoying.”

  “Oh, pipe down over there. You can’t be against love when you’re in it.”

  Harper grins, not looking the least bit sorry.

  “What kind of romance novel?”

  “It’s an unrequited love story. Mostly because that’s all I know.” She shrugs. “Anyway, it’s definitely not ready for reading, but maybe once I get it finished?”

  “Yes!”

  “Will there be bloody, gruesome murders or scary serial killers in it?” Harper asks.

  “No.”

  “Boo. Then count me out.”

  Scout laughs, rising from the table and brushing the backs of her pants off. “All right, well, back to work. I just had to come over and say hi and introduce myself.” She turns to Harper. “As always, so good to see you.”

  “Now that we’ve initiated Ryan into our little secret donut club, we’ll have to stop by more often.”

  “Please do.” Scout beams at me. “Congratulations again on the recent nuptials. The way he looks at you is…well, it’s what romance novels are based on.” She backs away with a wave and a smile.

  “I like her. She seems sweet,” I say to Harper once we’re alone again.

  “Very sweet and shy. She seems to be doing an amazing job with this place. It’s been packed every time I’ve been here.”

  “Impressive.”

  Harper nods. “So, speaking of cute together…how are things with you and Rhodes? Is everything still going okay?”

  “Yeah, actually. Everything is…well, really great.”

  And it’s the truth. Things have been going so well lately. Scary well. And not just things with Rhodes and me either.

  My grams is happy and thriving at her new assisted living facility. She loves her suitemate and all the nurses. She’s taking part in more group activities than she ever did before.

  My YouTube channel has grown by twenty thousand subscribers in the last month, which means more views, which in turn means more profit. I’m not dumb—I know a lot of that has to do with marrying Rhodes and people being curious about our relationship, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  I’ve kept true to his request to not post about us, but Poe and Frodo have become fixtures on my Instagram page.

  “Good, I’m glad. I won’t lie, I was a little worried about you two.”

  “Worried?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’re just so different. He’s like this total reclusive grump and you’re always the life of the party. I wasn’t sure how that would work out. But now…” She trails off and then shrugs. “I don’t know. This might be way off base and totally crazy, but Scout was right—he does look at you like something straight out of a book. It almost seems like you guys aren’t pretending anymore.”

  My initial instinct is to refute her claims because that’s not true. Of course we’re still pretending.

  But…

  “I…I’m not so sure I am pretending anymore.”

  “Are you saying…”

  “I think I’m in love with my fake husband.”

  I take a step back, admiring my work hanging on the gallery wall.

  Somehow, and I have no idea how I got so lucky, Rhodes gave me permission to use some shots from our session together.

  I was nervous to approach him about it and fully expected him to tell me no, but he didn’t. In fact, he called it my best work to date and encouraged it.

  I’ve been teasing him about being a “model” ever since.

  “It’s breathtaking.”

  I glance over at the gentleman standing next to me. He’s older than me by several years, wearing a button-up long-sleeve shirt that’s rolled to his elbows and a pair of dark gray slacks. Tattoos cover his forearms, making him look younger.

  He’s handsome…and totally married.

  A blush steals up my cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you.”

  “The raw emotion you captured is just…wow.” He gives his head a small shake, eyes wide with amazement as he stares up at the photo. “That’s Adrian Rhodes from the Carolina Comets, right?”

  “It is. Are you a Comets fan?”

  “Huge. I don’t make it out to as many games as I like, but I never miss one on TV.” He pulls his hand from his pocket and sticks it out to me. “I’m Winston Daniels. By the way, big fan of your work.”

  “Of my…photography?” I ask, shaking his hand.

  “Yeah. You sound surprised by that though.”

  I shrug. “Sorry, I just always assume if people know me, it’s from my—”

  “Makeup tutorials? My twin sister, Wren, is a big fan of that work of yours.”

  “Oh.” I laugh. “Thank you. Are you a photographer too?”

  “I am. I mostly specialize in weddings and family portraits, but whenever I can, I get out and grab some nature shots too.”

  “Oh!” Recognition dawns on me. “You’re that Winston Daniels. I saw your photo of the wave that went viral, and I went down a rabbit hole of your work. It’s amazing, the way you can capture nature like that.”

  He nods toward the photograph we’re standing in front of. “Same could be said for the way you capture emotion. I swear, I can feel his pain just by looking at this photo.”

  “It was an intense session, that’s for sure.” I try my damnedest not to blush remembering what happened at the end of said session. “What brings you out here tonight?”

  The gallery I hold my exhibits in downtown is having a showing tonight for local artists. Rhodes is currently on a long stretch of away games, and Harper is
visiting her mother and sister on the other side of the state to celebrate her engagement. Collin did propose, and I am over the moon for them.

  “My wife and I are here celebrating our anniversary. She’s around here somewhere. She’s not really big into photography, so I’m sure she’s back there hanging out in the corner where all the nude portraits are.”

  “Hey, I’ve seen some of those. Not a bad corner to be in.”

  He laughs. “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I just wanted to say, photographer to photographer, your work is amazing.”

  I blush again. “Thank you. I truly do appreciate the compliment.”

  “And please, tell your husband good luck in his game tomorrow night. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I would love to see the Comets whoop some St. Louis ass tomorrow.”

  “I will definitely pass on the message. It was great to meet you, Winston.”

  “Likewise, Ryan.”

  With a small wave, he disappears into the crowd.

  I turn back to the photo of my husband. Longing pulls at my chest.

  I miss him. So much more than I thought I would.

  I didn’t realize how lonely it could be to be the wife of a pro hockey player. They’re gone all the time, and when they are home, they spend a lot of time at the rink practicing and the games go late into the night.

  It’s tough, and I don’t think I ever gave Harper enough credit for having to deal with this all the time.

  “I’m surprised he allowed you to put that ugly thing on display.”

  I am so taken aback by the words that it takes me a moment to realize the person who said them is speaking to me.

  I turn to my left, and I don’t even have to ask who the woman standing there is because I already know.

  She huffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “God, look at him crying. What a baby. Oh, boohoo, poor me I have a scar on my face; everybody feel bad for me. Please, he’s like a gazillionaire. How can you be sad when you have money?”

  My blood boils at her words, and I have to work overtime to keep my cool.

  Don’t hit her, don’t hit her, don’t hit her. She’s not worth it. Do not hit her.

  I have never punched somebody in my life, but I really want to fucking hit her.

  “What are you doing here, Brittney?”

  “Oh, so you know who I am. Guess that means Rhodes talks about me, huh?”

  “No. Actually, he hasn’t mentioned you. The subject of trolls doesn’t really come up all that often.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, her face pinched tight. “Right. Sure.”

  “I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here? You have no business being here.”

  “I just had to see for myself if the rumors were true and Adrian actually is married to some little wannabe social media star. With the lack of photos on your Instagram, I was beginning to think it was all a publicity stunt.”

  I give her a tight-lipped smile. “Nope. We are definitely married. But thanks for being a follower.”

  She glances down at the simple gold wedding band I have around my finger, seeming rather unimpressed by it. “Right, and you expect me to believe Adrian Rhodes bought you that wedding ring? I doubt that.”

  “Doubt it all you want, but we have the marriage certificate to prove it.”

  That’s not actually true. I haven’t yet seen a copy of the certificate.

  But I know it’s real. I was there.

  I don’t need to prove my marriage to anyone, let alone the woman who stomped on Rhodes’ heart.

  “You know, I—”

  I hold my hand up, stopping her. “Save it. I don’t care what you have to say about anything. I have no idea what your real motive is for being here, but I don’t have the patience to deal with your ass.”

  She snaps her mouth shut, her fists balling at her sides. “You bitch.”

  I snort. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse.” I take a step toward her, not missing the way she flinches. “Just to set the record straight”—I point at the photo of Rhodes—“there is nothing ugly about that man—my husband—and you were goddamn lucky to have him for the time you did. But that’s over and done, and so are you. I’m going to give you one last chance to walk out of here before I drag you into the street like the trash you are.”

  She stands there, eyes wide, stunned.

  And frankly, I’m stunned too, but mostly because I mean the words.

  She pushes her tits out, shoving her shoulders back. “Fine, I’m leaving. But this isn’t over.”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  And I walk away from her barely holding it together.

  20

  RHODES

  I am fuming.

  It’s been a few days since Ryan told me about the incident with Brittney, and I’m still pissed about it. I immediately tried to call her, but even though she’s been calling me nonstop since Vegas, she didn’t answer. I tried Colter too, and like the coward he is, I got no response.

  I think the part that pisses me off the most is that I couldn’t be there to protect her from Brittney’s bullshit.

  “Dude, you good?” Collin asks from the stationary bike next to me. “You look like you’re pushing it way harder than normal.”

  “I’m fine.” But the words don’t even sound fine to my ears.

  “Everything good with you and Ryan?”

  “No. Well, yes. But no.”

  “Okay, totally not confusing at all.”

  I slow my pedaling down. I’m an idiot. Yeah, I’m pissed the fuck off, but I don’t need to punish my body for it. Especially not when we have a game tonight and I need the rest.

  I’m just so fucking worked up that I need to release some of this pent-up energy.

  “Sorry, man,” I say, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “There was an incident with Brittney while we were in San Jose.”

  “What?” He slows his own bike down. “What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. I guess Brittney accosted Ryan when she was at the gallery downtown. Came in talking about how she wanted to make sure we were actually married or some shit. Who fucking knows? She’s clearly off her rocker.”

  “Dude, she’s always been off her rocker. The way she’s played you with that back-and-forth game…she’s got issues, man.”

  “I know. I know I should have listened to you. I know that now. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

  “Yeah, but maybe the situation isn’t so bad anymore. I mean with you being madly in love with your wife and all.”

  He looks surprised when I don’t start immediately refuting his claim.

  “What? Not going to try to tell me otherwise?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Getting kind of tired of trying to convince myself it’s not true.”

  He grins. “Fucking knew it. You’re in looooove.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble, but there’s no bite behind it.

  “You hear that, boys?” Collin shouts loudly. “Our boy is in love!”

  “Yeah, no fucking shit. He’s married,” Miller says back.

  “About damn time,” Lowell mutters.

  Collin pats me on the back, and I shrug his hand off. “Stop making it weird, dude. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Not that big of a deal? You’re known for being emotionally unavailable. This is a huge deal.”

  I guess he’s right. I am pretty emotionally closed off most of the time. But it’s kind of hard not to be when you’re me. Shit, look at what happened with Brittney. I took a chance with a girl and made myself vulnerable for the first time in a long time, and where did it get me? I got my heart stomped on.

  I realize now what I had with her wasn’t love, and I know that because whatever I felt for her pales in comparison to what I feel for Ryan.

  With Ryan, it’s this carnal need for her all the time, and not just in a sexual way. I miss her constantly, sometimes even when she’s sitting right nex
t to me. All I want to do is be around her and be with her. I want to celebrate her milestones and her good news, and I want to experience all her downs too.

  I never had that with Brittney. Hell, there were some days I couldn’t even stand to be around her. But I settled. I settled because I thought that was all I deserved.

  I was so fucking wrong.

  Collin hops off the stationary bike, grabbing a towel and wiping his face off. “I’m happy for you, man. Look at us couple of saps in love. Who would have thought?”

  Not me, that’s for damn sure.

  “I’m going to hit the showers and then get home to grab a nap before the game. And by nap, I mean I’m probably going to snuggle with Harper and the dogs on the couch. Can you believe that woman doesn’t like naps? Who doesn’t nap? Psychos, that’s who.”

  Definitely psychos. “I’m going to do a few more miles and then head home myself. I’ll catch you at the game tonight.”

  “All right, man. Sounds good.” We bump our knuckles together and he disappears out the door.

  I keep going, pushing myself for another three miles. By the time I’m finished, Lowell and Miller have already gone home too, and it’s just me left.

  I hit the showers, enjoying the hot water beating down on my back. I didn’t realize just how stressed I was until now, feeling all the knots coming loose in my muscles. This is exactly what I need too. Don’t want to be too keyed up before the game tonight.

  When I get back to the lockers, my phone is buzzing against the bench. I look at it, hoping it’s either Brittney or Colter calling me back.

  No luck. Just another one of those damn spam calls I’m getting real sick of. Whatever the fuck they’re selling, I don’t want it.

  This time I’m just pissed off enough to answer.

  “What?” I growl into the phone.

  “Oh! You answered! We’ve been trying to reach you—”

  “About my car’s extended warranty? No, thanks.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear, ready to hit the end call button, then a few choice words catch my attention.

  “—Vegas. There was a mistake and—”

  I bring the phone back up to my ear. “Wait. What’s going on? Start over.”

 

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