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CHAPTER 10

RUSS

I wake to the sounds of the bustling city several flights below my apartment and reach for Scarlett. Her side of the bed is cold, and panic rises within me. My eyes fly wide and there’s no sign of her. I throw the sheets off me and rush to the bathroom—her wet clothes are gone from the shower. Fuck . I slip on a pair of boxer briefs and check the kitchen, where I find a piece of paper on the island.

Morning, bestie!

Had to catch my early morning flight and I didn’t want to wake you.

I’ll call you when I land.

xoxo,

Red

While I hate that she left without saying goodbye, I fucking love that she signed the note Red . I check my phone for the first time since last night and see dozens of missed texts and calls. I click on the group chat with Ronan, Lucas, and Will.

Will

Fucking hell, Campbell!

Ronan

I just watched the footage. Are you okay, Russ?

Lucas

What happened?

Will

He nearly killed a guy.

Lucas

Shit, I just saw it. Russ, are you okay, mate?

Russ

Hey guys! I’m sure we’ll have to talk about it later with Doc, but Smith smacked Scarlett’s ass and I lost my shit.

Will

I heard you might be out the rest of the season. That’s fucking bullshit!

Lucas

She’s his physical therapist, there’s no excuse for him touching her.

Ronan

How is Scarlett? Is she okay?

She stayed with me last night.

Will

I fucking called it! You two aren’t just friends.

We were.

Lucas

Were? Past tense?

Ronan

Fucking finally! I have to get to practice but I’ll catch up later.

I’ll talk to you guys later tonight. I have to check in with my team

Lucas

Good luck!

I have a missed call from my agent, but I’m not in the right headspace to deal with it right now. After a tall glass of water, I make my way back to my bedroom and slide under the sheets that still smell like Scarlett.

I wake a few hours to my phone vibrating, and can’t help my smile that it’s my girl. “Hey, Red,” I answer through a yawn.

“I saw the news. I’m so sorry, Russ.”

I sit up straighter. “What news?”

“What have you been doing? It’s everywhere.”

“I was asleep. What news?” I repeat, more sharply this time.

Scarlett lets out a long sigh. “I think it’s better you see for yourself.”

I click the speaker icon on my phone and spot several news alerts on my phone, all of them saying the same thing—I’m out for the rest of the season. “Fuck,” I groan and scroll to find a statement from my team.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I?—”

“No,” I snap, then take a steadying breath. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have gone after him. I need to call my agent. Can I call you back later?”

“Of course. We don’t have a game tonight, but I might be with one of my players.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. Love you.”

Scarlett sucks in a breath, and it takes me a moment to register what I said. So many times, the confession nearly slipped from me. There were no empty words or promises last night—I’m hers.

“I love you too,” she sighs, but there’s still a smile in her voice.

My heart swells at her admission. We hang up and I call my agent. Unfortunately, the reports are true. Smith is facing a worse fate than I am—he’s being released from his team. Scarlett mentioned yesterday that this wasn’t the first time someone touched her, and my blood boils at the thought of anyone putting up with that kind of harassment. There’s no excuse, and while I can’t beat the shit out of every man who touched her, I won’t sit idly by when there’s something I can do about it. I pull up my group chat with the boys and send off a quick message.

What are your thoughts on an awareness campaign?

Will

Awareness for what? Like saving sea turtles?

Workplace harassment.

Lucas

Doesn’t that already exist?

I’m sure it does but I can’t recall anything after we sign with a team.

Will

Elle put something together before the season started. One of the players of another team assaulted one of our cheerleaders, and she worked with the team owners to ensure there are harsher penalties for sexual harassment. Want me to have her give you a call?

That would be great, thanks!

The next few hours are packed with video calls, meeting with my team’s public relations staff, lawyers, and my agent. They’re all supportive of me working with the league to bring awareness to sexual harassment and assault in the workplace, even with my suspension. As we hang up, an incoming call from an unknown number with the same area code as Will pops up. Hoping it’s Elle, I answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Russell Campbell?” Will’s always described Elle as being an ice queen, but the woman on the other end sounds anything but. While she’s professional, there’s a lightness in her tone. Maybe it isn’t Elle?

“Speaking,” I hesitantly reply.

“Hey, this is Elle Davis. I’m one of the media relations coordinators for the New York Cougars. Will Darling asked me to give you a call.”

“Yes! Thank you so much. He mentioned you spearheaded a sexual harassment awareness campaign. To my knowledge, one doesn’t exist for my hockey league, and I’d love to talk to you a bit more about what you helped implement for football, so I can pitch it to them.”

“I heard about what happened with the player from Québec City. I’m glad the team has released him. That’s part of what we pitched to the football league—harsher punishment than just a fine. If there’s no consequence to their actions, people do it again. The world saw what he did, and nearly all of the comments on social media were calling for him to lose his contract. That isn’t always the case.”

“So, what can I do to help?”

“Other than trying to murder a man with your skate?” she chuckles.

“I wasn’t trying to murder him,” I huff, though it’s absolutely a lie. I was blinded by rage last night.

“Rumour has it this wasn’t the first time you’ve come to her rescue. While we all love a good fight on the ice, violence is never the answer.”

“I know,” I grumble.

“Your HR director likely has something in place, but there’s always room for improvement. A lot of leagues—from rugby to ice hockey—have required therapy for all players. The ones that do have lower incidents of assault in general. My suggestion, if you’re looking to shine a light on what happened more broadly, is to promote a proactive approach and normalize therapy. It’ll take the spotlight off the incident itself and direct it to something actionable.”

“That’s a great idea.” The last thing I want is Scarlett to deal with any added scrutiny; there are fans who will likely blame her for their favourite player being let go.

“I’m about to step into a meeting, but if you text me your email, I can send you everything I have,” she offers, and I’m still surprised Will has issues with her when she’s been nothing but helpful.

“Thank you, truly.” We say goodbye and hang up. I feel lighter than I have all day, with a renewed sense of purpose. I text Will, thanking him for connecting me with Elle, then shoot off a message to Elle with my email.

I check the time, and there’s still several hours before group therapy. Coach told me to stay put, but there’s no harm in taking a quick walk down the street to my favourite sushi restaurant. I call and place a to-go order, then make my way outside. The moment the door swings open to the crisp air, I’m blinded by camera flashes.

“Is Scarlett North your girlfriend?”

“Are you dating your coach’s sister?”

“Is your girlfriend pregnant?”

I shield my eyes from the bright lights and duck back inside my building without answering their questions. If the press thinks Scarlett’s my girlfriend, it’s only a matter of time before Coach finds out. I rush into my apartment and type out a quick message to Scarlett.

There was paparazzi outside of my apartment asking about you.

There are dancing bubbles for a moment, but then her name appears as an incoming call. I can’t answer fast enough. “Hey, Red.”

“Hi, um, why were they asking about me?”

“One asked if you were my girlfriend, another asked if you were knocked up.”

“What?” she squeaks.

“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck and wince. “I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Oh.” The simple word is laced with disappointment.

“I’m used to sports reporters asking about my dating life during post-game interviews, but these guys seemed more like the assholes you see chasing after celebrities. Our relationship is none of their business.”

“And if it was a sports reporter? What would you have told them?”

“The truth. I know we didn’t talk about what the rest of the season is going to look like, but I’m not sliding backward. I want to tell Coach about us. Hell, I’d scream it to the world from the rooftops that you’re my girl. But I won’t if you’re not one hundred percent okay with going public.”

Scarlett huffs a small laugh. “You really want to tell everyone we’re dating?”

“Why not? It isn’t as if we’re casually dating, Red. I’ve never been a fan of labels. We’re not just dating, we’re not friends with benefits, you’re mine. There’s no one else and hasn’t been since we met.”

“So… I’m your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend.”

She takes a deep breath. “We’re really doing this?”

“It’ll be hard, but yes. I’ll have flexibility with my schedule since I can’t play. We’ll make it work.”

“Okay. Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I have to run. But if you want me to tell my brother, I will. Though, I suspect he already knows if there’s rumours circulating.”

“Whatever you want.”

“I love you, bestie.” The song in her voice returns, and I can’t help my smile.

“Love you too.”

We hang up, and I book the first flight to Québec City. I’ll be travelling all day, but I don’t want to spend another night without her in my arms.