Page 93 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

There’s a photo, a candid one taken by someone in the stands, I guess, showing King with Bryce’s head in his lap. Another shows King slamming a Phantom’s player into the boards, a look of cold fury on his face.

“King-dom Come-back. Babe! There’s an article about you inHockey Tonight! ‘King Silverbow defied logic and odds when he returned to the ice tonight. After eight weeks off, the All-Star playedbetter than ever. Not even listed on the roster for tonight’s game, he stepped in after teammate Bryce Frobisher suffered a rare and potentially fatal injury known as commotio cordis, a blunt—’”

“Stop. Stop, I don’t want to hear that part,” King holds up his hand, voice shaking.

“Okay. Got it. You’re not playing tonight, are you?”

“No. Tomorrow. Bryce needs a break. A week or two off, I think. Thanks for taking Fia to the hospital last night.”

“Of course. We’re team. We’re family.”

King beams, his stormy countenance clearing. “Have I mentioned that I love you, Ingrid Antol?”

“I like when you mention it.” I bend and kiss him. “You’re coming in for PT at three, right?”

“Yep.”

“I gotta get to work. You sure you’re okay?”

King nods. “Think I’ll go back to bed after I ice my knee.”

I gather my things and kiss him goodbye, leaving the house we’re currently sharing, his. I’m still not used to it. When you’re out of your element, you tend to forget things—like your lunch and your gloves.

I slip back inside in time to hear King on the phone, his voice suddenly much more alert than it was when he told me he was going back to bed.

“Yes, he did use to represent me. I severed my contract with him three days ago.”

I pause in the doorway. King fired his agent? Had he told me that?

No.

Why not?

That seems like a big thing, and we’re getting married in June. Six months away. Seems like that’s something you tell your partner, when you make big career changes.

My stomach twists.

“Yes, sir, I’m fine this morning. I’ll be playing in our next game. Well, thank you. Yes, thank you. I’m glad you thought so. Would that be for this season or— Oh, wow. January. Uh. Could I call you back in a couple of hours and let you know? Thank you for the offer of a tryout. I’m definitely considering it. I just need to make sure I understand my contract thoroughly. I’m pretty sure I’m committed until the end of the season. I assume the trial is in San José?”

My mouth dries out.

California?

California is a universe away from Pine Ridge, from my mother, from...our lives. The little future I let myself dare to believe in.

But it’s a universe closer to fame, Ingrid. King’s back. He’s back on the ice, and he’s more famous than ever. He’s been spending two months building a huge reputation as a loveable good guy, a team player in more ways than one, and when he made his return... He was the big hero. The All-Star all over again.

Is arrogant King back, too? The King who wanted perfection and fame, and all the glittering trophies?

There’s no place in that world for this Ingrid.

I lean against the door, trying not to cry, bracing for what’s probably going to happen.

It happened. A call from the majors. Not just a call to check me out, an offer. A trial, a chance to spend a few weeks with the team, play in scrimmages, check out the team dynamics, see if I’m a fit.

And if I do? Major league salary. The minimum entry-level salary, set by collective bargaining agreements, is $775,000. Almost one million a year.

Right now, I make under a tenth of that. I make... I don’t know, an eighth or a sixth. Something in the mid-five figures, that’s for sure.