Page 23

I think Lennox has got this covered. He’s good at putting out dumpster fires. And that fucking picture of the puck bunny kissing me is the biggest dumpster fire I’ve ever had to deal with up to this point in my career.

I’m usually known as the “good guy” hockey player. I maintain a clean image, and I strive to keep it that way.

But a picture of some floozy kissing me, one where it looks like I’m into it, even though I wasn’t, is bad publicity.

Particularly when you’re fucking married!

I knew I saw a flash.

And that damn kid with his phone out constantly.

No wonder—the jerk was secretly taking pictures of all of us.

Of course he’d get that last one in; it was too juicy not to.

That’s why it went public. Though luckily for me, it was posted on a lesser-known hockey blog.

Once we found out about it this morning—and let me tell you, word travels fast among teammates—Lennox got right on it. He did so even though we had a game to prepare for against the Golden Knights, one that we, not surprisingly, lost.

There was just too much distraction.

After Lennox contacted his agent, he put the word out that the girl kissing me was all part of a friendly bet between me and him.

Oh, and that my wife knew all about it.

His agent even somehow got the blog content creator to take the shot down. I don’t know how he did that, but I owe him, and I owe Lennox.

Now I just need to make sure Claire goes along with the story, and that she knows that the kiss meant nothing.

It was nothing, damn it.

I wasn’t even kissing the girl back.

But in the picture, it’s hard to tell.

I wish I could talk to Claire tonight. She didn’t text or call all day, so I have a feeling she knows.

Not that I attempted to make contact either. I think this is something we need to discuss in person. I feel like I owe her an explanation face-to-face.

But unfortunately, it’s now after two in the morning. I just pulled into the garage and checked the time before I shut down the engine.

The team flew back directly after the game, which is why I’m getting in so late.

Man, I’m glad there’s no practice in the morning. We have the whole day off, thank fuck.

Sighing, I hop out of my Rover and head into the house.

I’ll get my bags later.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the only sound my key fob dropping onto the counter. But as I walk down the hall toward the living room, I can hear that the TV is on.

Good, that means Claire is downstairs.

If she’s awake, we can talk.

I venture into the living room, where I find her curled up and asleep on the sofa. She has on black yoga pants and a navy-blue tee. It looks like something she’d sleep in, so I guess she meant to go upstairs but drifted off while watching TV down here.

Speaking of which, I grab the remote from the coffee table and turn it off.

And that’s when Claire stirs.

Stretching and yawning, she sits up. “Hey,” she says groggily.

Thankfully, she doesn’t sound mad.

“Hey,” I reply. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I just got in and heard the TV.”

“Yeah.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I watched your game earlier. I saw that you guys lost.”

“We did.” I sigh. “There was a lot going on yesterday.”

Claire scoffs. “So it would appear.”

Okay, she definitely knows.

I sit down on a chair by the sofa.

Normally I’d sit next to her, but with this shit going on, it just doesn’t seem right.

“So, you know?” I ask. “You saw the picture?”

She blows out a breath. “I sure did.”

“Claire, I can explain—”

“No,” she cuts me off, putting her hand up for emphasis. “There’s no need to say anything. You’re free to do whatever you want, Easton.”

I wince. Her words cut like a knife. I don’t want to be free to kiss other women. I want to fucking kiss her.

But I can’t tell her that. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Look what she just said to me.

“Claire,” I begin, because I still feel like she should know the whole truth, “I didn’t kiss that girl. She caught me off guard and kissed me. She was actually trying to hook up with Lennox.”

Claire chuffs, “That’s a funny way to hook up with him. I mean, by kissing you, Easton.”

She raises a brow, and damn, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she does care and is maybe even a little bit jealous.

Hmm, I hope so.

Sighing, I explain, “That chick is a puck bunny, Claire. When Lennox rejected her, she tried to hit on me.”

“Oh,” she says.

“By the way, the blog took that picture down.”

“Yeah, I know. Was that your doing?”

“Lennox made it happen.” I clarify, “Well, his agent did.”

Softly, she asks, “Is there a story I should know? Like, if there are any questions that come up about this situation, what do I say?”

“There actually is a story we should go with,” I say, still feeling like a jerk. “We’ll say Lennox bet that girl to kiss me, and she did. It meant nothing—it was just a wager. And, for the record, it truly didn’t mean anything anyway.”

“Okay,” she says. “I can go along with that.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Claire, again, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to even deal with this mess.”

In a snippy tone, she replies, “Just next time make sure no one is taking a picture when some strange girl is trying to make out with you.”

Okay, I deserve that.

Still, I tell her gruffly, “There won’t be a next time, Claire.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “How can you say that? Ugh! We really should have discussed this before we got married. But are you seriously telling me now that you don’t ever plan to kiss anyone? And what about sex, Easton? Have you taken a vow of chastity?”

Anger flares. “No, Claire.” I raise a damning brow. “Have you?”

Our eyes meet, and fuck, I know she cares about me and about us. She must see that I feel the same way, as she averts her gaze quickly.

I’m no better; I do the same.

What is wrong with us?

Why can’t we move past this and just admit we have feelings for each other?

In my case, I guess I’m afraid. I’m in love with Claire, but I don’t want to fuck up what we have.

Maybe she feels the same way.

So we’re at an impasse.

“No,” she says out of the blue.

Huh?

“No what?” I ask.

“No, I haven’t taken a vow of chastity. But there are no prospects on the horizon at the moment. I can tell you that.”

I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I also want to say, “Thank God.”

But instead I go with a casual “None for me either.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Then I guess we’ll worry about how to deal with that situation when it comes up for one of us.”

Sighing, I reply, “I guess we will.”

Shit, I hope it never does come up.

If she ever wants to fuck some man other than me, I don’t know what I’d do.

Maybe kill him?

An awkward silence descends, and Claire says, “I think I’m going to go up to bed now.”

I sigh. “Yeah, me too.”

We go to our separate rooms and separate beds, and the impasse continues.