Page 53

Alex

A ble Starr was a two-hundred-and-twenty-eight-pound goalie for the Lindon U hockey team. His nickname used to be The Gentle Giant, because he normally had nothing bad to say about people. If anything, he was one of the mediators that broke up our dumb fights when they broke out.

Until one day, when Starr was running his mouth after a tough loss against the Cubs. It was a brutal game, and nobody was in a good mood when we piled back into the locker room after it was over.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Starr asks, elbowing me as he walks by where I’m towel-drying my damp hair from the shower.

Did he not see us get creamed on the ice? “I think it’s pretty easy to tell what the problem is. Or did you forget the four shots you let slide past you today that caused the Cubs to fuck us?”

A few of the guys ‘ooooh’ from the other side of the locker room.

Starr straightens to full height. “I don’t seem to recall you stealing the puck from any of them either. Or did you conveniently forget that?”

I didn’t. And I won’t forget the rest of the damn night when I’m beating myself up over it.

“This isn’t our first loss. We’re still in the top three in our division,” he points out. “So I don’t know why you’re acting like a bipolar dick, but you sound fucking stupid.”

My nostrils flare as I grind my teeth. “The fuck did you just call me?”

Somebody clears their throat. “Uh, guys—”

We ignore them.

Starr says, “I called you bipolar. Do you need me to say it again? You act too good to talk to the rest of the season when we win, but you’re quick to point fingers when we get our asses handed to us.

That’s not just on me, O’Conner. You’re just as much to blame for how the game went tonight.

Maybe if you actually showed up to practice on time for once—”

My shoulders square. “Don’t fucking call me that. You don’t know shit, Starr.”

“What? Bipolar? Then stop acting like it.”

Grabbing ahold of his shirt in a death hold, I slam him against the lockers until a group of our teammates surround us. “I swear to God, Starr, if you don’t watch your mouth I’m going to hit you.”

He smirks, unphased by me or the guys trying to pull us apart. “Try me, Pretty Boy.”

Needless to say, I did. And maybe the punch was harder than I meant it to be, but he went out cold for at least ten seconds. So, yeah. I get why Sebastian told Olive about that. But it was provoked, which he either didn’t realize or didn’t give a shit about.

I’ve always been the bad guy in his eyes.

At least when it comes to his sister.

And that’s never bothered me until now, when I want to be the person her family wants her to be with.

Not the bad guy, but the good one.

Olive doesn’t need a hero—she’s her own. But if I can be the extra support she needs when her days are shitty or she just needs somebody, then I want to be there regardless of what her brother thinks of me.

“Here you go,” Tia, one our PR reps, says, pulling me from the cyclone of thoughts in my head.

I look at the paper extended to me before taking it. “This has all the information on it?” I ask her, scanning the top of the form.

“Everything she’ll need to know is there.

What she needs to fill out, what she needs to keep blank, and where to send it back to.

If she has any questions, she can call me or Louis.

Just make sure she knows that the deadline to submit her application is this November.

We go through them over the winter for selection in the spring. ”

My eyebrows go up. “Do you get a lot?”

Tia smiles. “It depends. When we have a winning year, more people tend to apply to be part of the experience. They get to travel with the team for at least half the games, which is cheaper than game tickets and lodging.”

Olive traveling with us sounds like a great idea to me, but I don’t voice that.

I’m sure there are some sort of guidelines that say there’s no bunking with interns.

When we travel to away games, we’re usually partnered up and told not to stray too far.

The coaches usually put a curfew on us knowing that drinking tended to happen on the nights we won, which led to more than one player nearly missing the plane or bus back home.

“Thanks, Tia. I appreciate it.”

Walking out of the building, I pull my phone out to see how her day with Belle is going. But before I can send the text, I see Clarkson walking over to me.

“O’Conner,” he greets, gesturing toward the office I just walked out of. “Did you get that internship paperwork for Olive?”

I flash him the paper in my hand. “We’ll see if she even wants to do it at this point.”

Understanding makes him dip his chin. “I talked to Moskins about the pictures. He didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You’re sure?”

One nod. “The man can be a jackass. I get that. But he wouldn’t go that far. Believe it or not, he can appreciate privacy more than you know.”

What’s that supposed to mean? “I guess he can’t have multiple girlfriends and a wife without there being some sort of agreement to keep shit on the downlow.”

Clarkson’s lips twitch upward. “Yeah. Something like that.”

I lean back on the wall and stare up at the high ceiling. “I don’t see why people even care about what we do or who we date. We’re nothing special.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clarkson snickers. “I think I’m pretty damn awesome.”

I chuckle. “You sound like Olive. She’s always been confident about who she is.

Seeing people tear her down…” My jaw ticks.

She’s never let people get to her. At least, she pretends she doesn’t.

But knowing her father has said shit must make it harder to ignore when other people join in.

“Thanks for getting Belle to take her out. She needed it today. I think she’ll enjoy having some girl time for once.

And if she sticks around, it’s good for her to have friends here too. ”

“It’s never fun to see the people we care about get talked about that way,” he sympathizes. “You already made a post telling people to stop and respect your personal life. There’s not much else you can do.”

I wish there was, though. “I can tell it’s fucking with her. And her brother isn’t helping matters. He and I were never particularly close in college, so he’s not a fan of finding out we’re seeing each other.”

God only knows what her family thinks of me. I’m sure her brother told their mother some half-truth bull that isn’t going to win me any favors with the woman I know Olive is close to.

“And this is how he found out?”

Apparently, my wince confirms it.

“Brutal.”

I sigh. “Olive wanted to tell him in person.”

“Well…” His words fade.

“What?”

He lifts his shoulders. “I hate to agree with Moskins, but you made it public with her. It was bound to come out eventually because people don’t know anything about you. I told you before, man. The second they get their hands on any information it’s going to blow up no matter how small it is.”

And I’m just supposed to be okay with that because I signed up for this job? “I don’t see anything about you online.”

“That’s because we have an understanding,” he tells me as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

“We’ve all got to give a little to get a little.

If you want privacy, you’ve going to need to let them get to know you enough where they’re willing to respect your space.

If not, they’ll always be searching for something. ”

What kind of expense would I be paying? “I don’t want Olive, or anybody else in my life, to be front and center for all this bullshit. They claim to be fans, but I barely see anybody coming to her defense.”

Clarkson is quiet for a second. “Has your agent said anything to you about doing some press?”

Kyle reached out to yell at me for not informing him that I was “involved” with somebody with connections to the Rangers. As if I’m sleeping with a fucking spy. Then he asked if that was why I got bent out of shape when he brought Olive up when she was seen with Hoffman.

I told him to fuck off.

Then I hung up on him.

He should have been on top of the latest pictures before Olive ever saw them.

“The only thing he wants to do is focus on sponsorships and the upcoming season.”

“Word of advice? He works for you . Without you, he won’t get paid.

So make him worth your while. If it benefits him, I’m sure he’ll do it.

And if you get the public on your side, they’ll stop focusing on who you’re dating and start focusing on how you’re playing.

Sponsors will pick shit up too if they see you present yourself a certain way. ”

“And how exactly am I supposed to act?”

He rolls his eyes. “Like yourself, O’Conner. Isn’t that why Olive likes you? Sure as shit can’t be that shiny personality.”

I can’t help but snort in amusement.

My eyes go down to the paper in my hand. It would be a good opportunity for Olive, but I don’t know if she’ll want to take it if it means being tied to me and the team if people are going to talk shit the whole time.

“If people are talking now, what are they going to say when they hear she got an internship with us? We both know women get attacked more online than men. They’ll say it’s because she’s sleeping with me. Some people are going to say it’s because she slept around with all of us.”

“Their opinion doesn’t matter, but if you want to change it then get your agent to set something up. A one on one with the people. Let them ask some questions but make your boundaries clear. That’s what I did.”

If only it were that easy. Then again, you don’t see anyone talking about Clarkson and Belle’s close relationship online. I guess a charming smile can go a long way. “Their opinion matters to her, even if she pretends it doesn’t.”