Page 10

Chapter Ten

P acing around the living room, I wondered for the millionth time that day what the hell was wrong with me. There was an anxious energy buzzing inside of me that even the morning workout hadn’t burned out of me.

Usually, I was occupied. Satisfied to be at home, on my own, in the peace and quiet of the refuge I had created. If not happy, then at least content.

But today, I’d been restless. Jittery, almost. A fact which was proven when my phone dinged, and I leaped for it with the speed I typically reserved for on the ice.

Get a grip. I demanded to myself, wondering why I’d expected the message to be from Cassie.

I told myself that the irritation of it coming from Brody instead was due to the fact that he was sending yet another link to some TikTok video I didn’t want to watch.

LIAM: Can’t watch these. Don’t have the app.

brODY: Ur so lame

He responded, and then a minute later, a downloaded version of the video came through.

I clicked on it, only for some horrendous song to start blasting over clips of me on the ice, during interviews, or even just walking down the street. It was creepy as hell, if I was being honest.

LIAM: What the hell is this?

I couldn’t fight the scowl that appeared on my face while trying to mute the horrendous music playing from the video.

brODY: It’s called a thirst trap, of which u are the star.

LIAM: Don’t send me this shit.

brODY: Smh. Fame is wasted on the cynical.

I slammed my phone down, disgusted with the state of humanity and the horrific misuse of technology, until someone interrupted.

“Knock knock,” a sing-song voice called from the hallway, followed by a noise that sounded a lot like a foot kicking against the door. It was all the alert I needed to know that my sister was there.

I sighed, opening the front door to see Maggie’s petite frame dwarfed by multiple bags that she balanced in her arms. They wobbled, and I watched her with an amused expression as she tried to regain balance under the weight of her load.

“Thanks for the help,” she muttered, toppling inside the apartment.

“Thanks for the new scuff mark on the door,” I countered, looking down at her craftsmanship.

“A little reminder of me.” She clicked her tongue and beamed, dropping the bags in the foyer.

“And what’s all this?” I asked, gesturing down at the wreckage.

“It’s Cassie’s stuff,” she shot me a look. “What do you think it is?”

“Cassie’s stuff…” I trailed off absentmindedly, looking down at the collection of color.

“Yeah, you know, the girl who’s living in your house?” she spelled out sarcastically. “Did you not notice that she didn’t have any of her belongings with her?”

Unblinking, I stared at my sister.

“Are you coming down to help me get the rest?”

“There’s more?” I asked, my face scrunching up in disbelief.

“Duh.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “And before you freak out, this doesn’t mean she’s permanently taking up residence here or anything. But, this way, she won’t ever have to go back and see that scumbag again. She can just move her stuff from here into her next place.”

It made sense, but the jittery feeling I’d carried with me all day only seemed to amplify with Maggie’s words.

“Did you see him?” I asked, feigning casualness. “That guy?”

I had to admit I was curious. Especially now that I’d met Cassie in person, but I wouldn’t admit that to Maggie.

“Dave?” She puffed out a breath of air, scowling at the name. “Yeah, I saw him. Charming as ever, the dickhead. He had that new girl plopped on his lap the whole time I was getting Cassie’s stuff out.”

I clenched my fist at my side, not knowing why every little thing was setting me off today. It wasn’t like I cared that much, but what gave that asshole the right to go about his life when the girl he’d spent the last six years with was losing every part of hers?

“What’s wrong with you?” Maggie asked, her eyes trailing me up and down. “You seem tense. Is it about that article?”

“What article?” I snapped back coldly.

“You didn’t see it?” She looked surprised. “Well, I guess that makes sense, considering you’re chronically offline.”

“Maggie,” I repeated gravely. “What article?”

“Woah, no need to pull out the big brother voice.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I’ll show you.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, scrolling down before holding it up for me to see. The title stood out in bold, italicized letters.

Brynn: The NHL’s Most Reluctant Superstar.

My eyes scanned the article, irritation growing on me with every word I read.

The Harbor Wolves have had their fair share of star players over the years, but none perhaps as elusive as their current forward, Brynn.

Since the beginning of his career, Brynn has been notorious for his media reluctance, quiet presence, and what some would call his obsessive need for privacy.

Despite this, he’s become not only a star player admired by hockey fans for his speed on the ice and intensity in his plays but also a sort of celebrity amongst young women.

Clips of the Massachusetts native have gone viral on TikTok, and videos of him getting flooded with likes, comments, and shares. With these clips, his social media fans alone have garnered more publicity for the team than any other player in recent years.

Despite his athletic ability and his popularity, rumors swirl that Brynn can be difficult for Harbor Wolves Coach Bryan Dunbar to manage.

When asked about rumors of any potential trading of their center, Dunbar commented, “Look, he’s a good kid. As long as he plays well, we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Though Brynn’s social media is scarce and his presence in interviews seemingly disengaged, it’s clear that he has a passion for the game and a fair bit of talent to back him up.

One thing’s for sure: Boston doesn’t want to lose the player who brought us three Stanley Cup wins in his five-year career.

When asked for comment on how he felt about his celebrity status, the twenty-six-year-old said, “I’m here to play hockey. That’s it.”

Brynn might be as cold as the ice he plays on, but one thing is for certain: he has Boston backing him.

“ESPN published this shit?” I asked, shoving the phone away. “What a joke. You’d think they’d have something better to write about.”

Maggie laughed heartily, pocketing her phone once more. “, you know you’ve always been the elusive mystery guy. Did you think joining the NHL and becoming one of their best players would, what, lessen your appeal?”

“I thought that grown adults would be more respectful of a human being’s privacy,” I growled. “I mean, what is even the point of that article? It’s not covering anything game-related. It’s just trying to pin me down.”

“The people want to know you.” Maggie shrugged. “That’s the point.”

“Well, they don’t know me,” I spat out more harshly than I intended. “My job is to play hockey, and I don’t owe anyone any more than that. Why the hell do they need to be involved in every other aspect of my life?”

“I knew you’d get like this.” She tsked, settling against my couch like she belonged there. “You had to have known that this would be your life when you signed up for this.”

“I guess I underestimated the creepiness of people. Or the lack of fucking boundaries,” I muttered, thinking about the numerous occasions when random women had gotten hold of my phone number and thought it was their right to actually use it.

The amount of obscene messages, photographs, and even videos I’d received had no boundaries. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that, no matter what my sister and everyone else thought I’d signed up for.

“Well, they’re going to invade your space whether you like it or not. And to be honest, you’re only making it worse for yourself. The less you give them, the more curious they’ll be.”

She had a point, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. Or go along with it, for that matter. I wasn’t going to feed the insatiable beast that was the public because, like she said, the more I gave them, the more they’d want. And I’d never been much of a giver.

“Look.” Maggie sighed. “I’m only saying this because I care about you. But you’re so closed off. Not just with hockey, but with everything. You’re letting it bleed into your normal life.”

“My normal life? And what’s that?” I arched a brow at her.

“Exactly.” She nodded as if I’d just confirmed her point. “You don’t have one anymore. Your whole life is hockey games and training and isolation, and it’s not maintainable. You’ve been closed off for years. It’s so hard to even reach you.”

“Maggie,” I said, about to counter everything she was saying, to tell her that it was just me , when she held up a hand to stop me.

“No. , I love you, but you need to let someone in. Anyone. Otherwise, you’re going to break, and there’s going to be no one around to pick up the pieces. Hockey cannot be your end-all, be-all. You’re a person. And people need people.”

Without warning, and definitely without my consent, my thoughts wandered off on their own, settling on the image of that little blonde that my sister had sprung into my life.

I’d already let her in. To my home, my life, my thoughts.

I shook the thought away, unsure why it had even popped up in the first place. Cassie was temporary. I needed to remember that.

“Well, anyway.” Maggie stood from the couch, clapping her hands together. “You’re welcome for the therapy session. You can pay me by coming to get the rest of Cassie’s stuff from my car.”

And with that, she bounded out the front door, leaving me with no choice but to follow.