Under the headline, there’s a photo of the two of us at the photography exhibit. To anyone that knows me, it’s clearly me, but whoever wrote this article has no clue. In the small write-up, it states only that Leo was spotted with an unknown woman looking cozy, and then the article proceeds to detail out his dating history. Here it is, everything I wanted to know laid out in chronological order: Leo’s entire dating history.
It starts with the awful college scandal he told me about. A younger Leo, shirtless, with a girl on either side of him, stares at the camera with a hazy expression. That’s the tamest of the pictures from that night.
I skip past to see who else he’s dated since. He said none of them were serious, but that hasn’t stopped him from dating. And the girls he’s been paired with in the past two years are as stunning as I feared. Models, college girls, blondes, brunettes, redheads, all as beautiful as the next. The gorgeous blonde sports reporter his agent has been trying to get him to go out with is the latest woman he’s been cited as dating.
I groan, but now that I’ve ripped off the Band-Aid, I can’t stop. I type in his name and scroll through pictures of him at various events with dates. I skip over any sports-related news and go right for the trashy tabloids. I suddenly need to know it all. My stomach twists. Here he is with all of these women he said meant nothing, and I’m an unknown in a blurry photo that will probably be forgotten tomorrow.
I should be glad, but the irrational part of me that wants to be his in a way that these girls weren’t, wants the whole world to know—consequences be damned.
I get ready for the game. Leo has a standard pre-game routine, and I know if I text him and warn him, there’s a good chance it’ll screw with his game, so I don’t.
Still, I know that as soon as the game is over, I need to tell him about the article, and then we need to have an awkward conversation with my dad. I can’t wait for Sunday. If that’s the only reason he doesn’t want to be pictured with me, then I’ll know.
And I need to know.
28
JUST FRIENDS
LEO
When the final buzzer sounds, denoting the end of the game, I skate off the ice and follow my team down the tunnel. Losing always sucks, but never more than when you know you’re the better team.
Tampa Bay should have been an easy win. Three of their top players are out with injuries, and they’ve struggled to patch together a line that can get anything going. Until tonight.
Coach is grim-faced and quiet in the locker room after yelling for fifteen-minutes straight. He attempts a smile and tells us to keep our heads up. I cool down and then get summoned with Jack and Ash to the media room.
I pull on a Wildcats T-shirt and shorts and run through the things Blythe told me to say during interviews if I was stuck. I shouldn’t need to say a lot. The media loves Jack, and he’ll be happy to answer whatever they throw at him, but if I’m going to be a leader on this team, or any team, I need to be prepared.
The three of us take our seats behind the microphones placed along a row of tables, facing reporters and cameras. Coach comes in last and takes a seat next to me. He starts us off, fielding a few questions on what went wrong and how we move forward.
I’m starting to tune it all out when someone calls my name. I sit forward, so my mouth is near the microphone.
Tiffany Ryan, not her real name, stands. There’s no need to stand other than she wants all eyes on her. I squirm. Tiffany is the reporter from camp who scoped me out during an interview. You know, the one everyone thinks I slept with because I was staring down—NOT at her tits. I knew it was only a matter of time before I ran into her again.
I have prepared for this moment. Do not look anywhere but at her face. Do NOT look anywhere but at her face. I repeat it over and over in my head.
“Leo, you appeared distracted tonight.” She pauses to give me time to respond, but like Blythe taught me, I stay silent until she asks an actual question. She’s fishing right now, and I’m not taking the bait.
Her dark red lips pull into a devious smile. “Is your new relationship with Coach Miller’s daughter causing tension between you and the rest of the team?”
“My relationship with…” I gulp, look at Coach, then Ash and Jack, like they might be able to bail me out, then back to Tiffany.
“Scarlett Miller.” Her brows furrow in fake confusion. She holds up a phone, and even from eight feet, I can tell it’s her. “This isn’t you and Scarlett Miller at a photo exhibit earlier this week?”
“We’re friends,” I say confidently. Fuck, it’s hot in here. “And no, it has not caused tension between the team and me.” At least not until this moment. “Tonight Tampa came ready to play, and we didn’t.”
Her gaze flicks back to the phone. “Just friends?”
I nod. A small dip of my chin that feels like a wrecking ball. Yeah, yeah, we look like more than friends. We are more than friends, but this isn’t exactly the time or place to announce it. Dammit, Tiffany.
“Next question,” Coach asks, with a side-eye in my direction.
I don’t hear anything after that, thanks to the ringing in my ears. Oh fuck, this isn’t good. Did I really call Scarlett my friend in front of... I count the number of cameras aimed at the front of the room and feel like throwing up.
As soon as the press conference is over, I bolt.
“Slow your roll, Lohan.” Jack presses a hand to my chest. He juts his chin behind me. Right, Coach. Fuck. I don’t know which conversation I’m dreading more.
We file out into the hallway, and I wait for Coach to catch up. Head lowered and voice quiet, he says, “Be in my office tomorrow at eight. We’ll talk about the photo then.”
“Coach, I’m—”
He holds up his hand like he physically can’t handle me saying one more word. “Tomorrow. First thing.”
In the locker room, Ash is sitting at his stall next to mine.
“And the award for the first scandal of the season goes to…” He holds out both hands in my direction dramatically.
“Damn.” I drop onto the bench. “I really fucked this up.”
“What’d Coach say?”
“Nothing. He told me to be in his office first thing tomorrow.”
He inhales sharply, teeth clenched so that it makes a whistling noise.
I pull my phone from my pocket. I have texts and voicemails from everyone but the person I was hoping.
“What the hell am I going to say to her?”
“You mean to your friend, Scarlett?”
“We were supposed to tell her dad together. I froze. I didn’t know what to say.” I fumble through excuses, and they all suck.
The look Ash gives me tells me as much.
I shove everything in my bag as fast as I can. “I gotta go. Text you later.”
“Good luck, buddy.”
I head out to my car and text Scarlett to find out where she is. I don’t know if she’s seen the interview yet, but I know it won’t be long if she hasn’t.
She responds back to let me know she’s at my place and that’s where I head, as fast as I can.
She’s waiting in her car when I pull up. I can tell the instant I get a glimpse of her face that she saw.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “They caught me totally off guard.”
She lets me hug her. “I know. I saw the article this afternoon. I wanted to give you a heads-up, but there wasn’t time.”
I nod slowly. Yeah, a heads-up definitely would have been nice. “Did your dad already know too?”
“I don’t think so. The article referred to me as an unknown. I guess they figured it out sometime during the game.”
“Should we talk to your dad tonight?”
“I’ll talk to him. He’s going to be upset I didn’t tell him before he found out like that.”
“I’m pretty sure any anger is going to be directed at me. I’m supposed to report to his office in the morning.”
Scarlett gives me a sympathetic
face. I take her hand and start to walk inside, but she doesn’t budge. “Wait. I need to ask you something.”
“Sure. Anything.”
Her gaze darts to the ground and then slowly lifts to meet mine. “Was my dad really the only reason you didn’t want the media to know about us?”
I replay her words twice in my head.“I don’t follow.”
“I’ve been in relationships where we kept things secret, and I don’t want to do that again.”
“The ex?” I say, slowly piecing together her concern.
“Yes. He kept us a secret for the entirety of our relationship.”
“You said you were together for a year?”
“Yeah, an entire year that I was hidden from his public image. It wasn’t all his fault; he was following the advice of people he trusted, but Leo, I can’t do that again. So, if you aren’t ready to be with me, really be with me, then I can’t do this.”
I cup her face. “I’ll call every reporter I know right now if that’s what you want, baby.”
One side of her mouth pulls up into a smile. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but I do need to know that I’m not going to be kept separate from your professional life. I don’t want to get in the way. I just want to be a part of your whole life. And I don’t want to be Leo Lohan’s friend.”
“You’re Leo Lohan’s girlfriend, and I promise, no more hiding,” I say. “Wherever I go, you go. I want to hold your hand everywhere we go.”
“Okay.” She lets out a breath. “Good.”
She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight. I sigh in relief. “Want to go to Wild’s? The guys are all there, and I can show you off. A little PDA, and I’m positive we can make the front page of the news.”
“Next game for sure,” she says. She peers up at me and bites the corner of her lip. “I think tonight I need to go home and talk to my dad.”
“Right.” Oh man, my palms sweat. “Do you want me to come?”
“I better talk to him first.” She smiles. “I’ll call you later, boyfriend.”
29
BE NICE, DADDY
SCARLETT
As much as I’d like to, I can’t stay and hideout at Leo’s. I know I need to talk to my parents, especially my dad.
Mom’s already in bed, but Dad is in the kitchen when I get home. I pull a bowl from the cabinet and take a seat next to him. I smile at the Fruity Pebbles box.
“How’d you know I was on my way?”
“I didn’t,” he says and continues spooning the cereal into his mouth.
“So, uh, I’m dating Leo.” I sit beside him.
He chuckles softly. “Little late on the news for that one.”
“I’m sorry that you found out from someone else. We wanted to make sure we really liked each other before we said anything.”
“And?” His tired gaze meets mine.
“I really like him.”
“He called you his friend and made a spectacle in the media room.”
I’m quick to defend him. “He panicked. We were going to tell you together this weekend.”
I get a grumpy, throaty noise in response. Dad finishes his cereal and rests an elbow on the counter. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am. Leo isn’t like Rhyse. He wasn’t hiding me. We were just trying to decide how much we liked one another before we made a big deal of it.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then I don’t follow.”
“Leo is a nice guy, honey. If you were anyone but my daughter, I’d have no problem signing off approval. He has a good head on his shoulders for someone his age.”
“I know his life is busy. So is yours, and you and Mom make it work.”
“It isn’t just that. These guys are under constant scrutiny in the media. Part of me selfishly loved that Rhyse kept you out of all of that. It may not have been his intention, but he shielded you from a lot by keeping you out of the headlines.”
“I can handle it,” I assure him. The things people said to and about me with Rhyse were so much worse than anything I’ve seen about Leo or the women he dated.
“I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. I know you’re too stubborn for that anyway, but think about it and be careful.”
“It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Okay.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “As long as you’re happy.”
“I am. You’re really okay with this then?”
“If you’re happy and he can keep the nonsense away from the ice, then yes.” He gets up, puts his bowl in the sink, and starts to leave the kitchen.
I swivel on the bar stool. “Leo said he has a meeting with you tomorrow morning.”
Dad grins.
“Be nice, Daddy.”
I go to the arena the next day after working the early afternoon shift at the bar. Leo has a quick break after practice, and he climbs into my car with a groan. He leans over and somehow manages to lean his big frame over the console and put his head in my lap.
“Rough day?” I thread my fingers through his unruly hair.
“Your dad hates me,” he mutters against my thigh.
“That bad, huh?” I knew by the look in Dad’s eyes last night that he wasn’t going to let Leo off that easily. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll survive. Totally worth it.” He burrows in between my legs and nips at my inner thigh.
“I brought food. It’s in the back seat. How long until you have to be back?” The guys have an away game tomorrow, but they’re leaving tonight for Dallas.
He sits up with another groan. “An hour. Factor in an extra fifteen because I can’t feel my arms or legs.”
“What exactly did he do to you?”
“Pushups. Squats. More pushups.”
“Because you’re dating me?”
“Because I made a scene in his media room.”
“Oh.” I pull away from the arena and drive toward my house.
He’s quiet in my passenger seat until he realizes where we’re going. He sits up and shoots me a panicked look. “Are you trying to get me killed?”
“Relax. Dad never comes home during the day, and Mom is at school for another two hours.”
We walk into the house, and I lead Leo straight down to the basement.
“This is me.” I drop my purse on the dresser.
“This is nice.” He looks around with a smile.
“It’s a little cramped.” I point to my mom’s crafting supplies on one side. “But it’s temporary. I have enough saved up to move out, but I want to nail down a job before I commit to a lease.”
“Makes sense,” he says, walking around taking in every detail. He finally sits on the couch with his food.
He hands over his fries with a smirk, like he knows I really got them for myself.
“My mom took the news much better than Dad,” I say, sitting beside him and folding my legs underneath me. “She’s already setting a place for you at Thanksgiving.”
“Sounds nice.” His mouth quirks up into a smile.
“Do you see your family around the holidays?”
He nods. “I go home for a day or two at Christmas when I can.”
“They never come here?”
“Nah. My aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents are all in Boston, so it just makes more sense that I go to them.”
“Well, you’re welcome here.” I realize I might be putting a lot of pressure on something so new, especially considering my dad is his coach, and they’re on shaky ground. “You know, assuming I’m not sick of you by then.”
“Too late. Your mom’s set a place for me. I’m coming.”
It’s all so easy and natural. Even here in my parents’ basement.
“I can’t wait. Let’s just make sure to sit you all the way at the other end of the table from my dad.”
He grimaces. “I really thought he liked me.”
“He does.” I scoot closer, and he steals one of my fries. “He just likes me more.”
>
30
SHIT LIST
LEO
I get to the plane way, way, wayyy early to make sure I’m in my seat ready to go to Dallas before Coach arrives.
He didn’t threaten to trade me or bench me, so there’s that. He did, however, inform me that if I couldn’t keep my head in the game and show up today ready to go, he’d strip me of the A.
And stripping me of the A, essentially demoting me, is the fastest way to get traded next season. I don’t want that. Especially now. Scarlett and I are just getting started. I can picture a life in Minnesota.
“You’re alive,” Ash says as he falls into the seat beside me.
“For now, anyway.”
My buddy, soon-to-be former buddy, laughs, then mocking me says, “We’re friends. Just friends.”
I scratch the side of my face with my middle finger.
His laughter gets louder. “Did you get Daddy Miller’s permission to date his daughter or what?”
I bob my head side to side. “He’s not thrilled, but as long as I don’t let it interfere with the team, then we’re cool.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, if I had a daughter, I’d totally let her date you.”
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah,” he says more enthusiastically.
“Thanks.”
He rests his elbows on either armrest. “What about me?”
“What about you?” I ask as I stretch out and get comfortable for the flight.
“If you had a daughter, could I date her?”
I haven’t given a lot of thought to having kids, but I get a pretty great visual of a dark-headed girl with a smile like Scarlett’s.
“Oh, uhh…” I struggle to decide on the right answer. Ash is great. No question about it, but his dating history is a little all over the place.
His mouth falls open, and his eyes widen. “Seriously? I’m not good enough for your daughter?”
His voice carries, and people look our way.
“Can you not draw any attention to us today?” I whisper and duck my head.
Wildcat Page 18
