Page 13

“Mila,” Willa says, gesturing between us. “This is Lilly. Lilly, Mila.”

“Hi!” Lilly offers me a warm handshake. “So nice to meet you.”

We all settle in, and I take the seat between the two women.

Lilly taps my knee, her expression bright and curious. “So… how do you know Penn?”

I hesitate, giving a practiced smile. “We knew each other back in junior hockey. Just… old friends and I’m visiting Pittsburgh. He’s actually letting me stay at his place for a bit.”

Willa and Lilly exchange a brief glance. There’s a pause, not awkward, but definitely loaded. These women are smart. They know there’s more. But they don’t press, and I’m grateful for that.

“How about you two?” I ask quickly, shifting the spotlight. “Tell me all about you and how you met your guys.” And I realize that makes me sound like Penn is more than my friend, so I correct myself. “Not that Penn is my guy. We’re just friends.”

Willa chuckles and nods. “You and Penn are just friends. Got it. So, I’m a doctor—”

“And you met King by treating him,” I guess.

Willa snorts. “It’s really not all that interesting. I was coaching a youth hockey team—even though I knew nothing about hockey.”

“You have children?” I ask.

“No, this was for my niece. At any rate, King volunteered to help out, and let’s just say it took a while for me to warm up to him. But he’s persistent, and he wore me down in the best way.”

“That’s sweet.” Definitely romance-novel-level introduction. I turn to Lilly. “What’s your meet cute story?”

Lilly gives me what looks to be an almost apologetic smile that’s tinged with empathy. “Boone was doing charity work at the children’s hospital. My brother, Aiden, had cancer and that’s how we met.”

“Oh my God,” I exclaim in both horror and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry if that was insensitive.” I feel like an idiot and now I know why Lilly is still looking at me with a bit of pity for putting my foot in it. “Is your brother… is he okay?”

Sadness wells in her eyes and she shakes her head. “He passed last spring.”

I feel tears begin to well. “I don’t… I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”

Lilly’s smile brightens. “Don’t apologize. You asked how we met and I love our story. Boone was a rock through Aiden’s illness, and I had no choice but to fall in love with him. I can’t wait until we get married.”

I still feel wretched for asking a question when the answer caused Lilly pain. She must see it because she grabs my hand. “Please don’t fret over it. I’m an open book. I can talk about Aiden and while I’m sad, I also have such wonderful memories to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur again.

“Enough of that,” Willa says, almost a little sharply, and I sit up straighter. “We’re going to have a great time tonight cheering on these guys.”

“Absolutely,” Lilly says with a pointed look at me. “Now, tell us all about yourself. What do you do for a living?”

That’s an easy one. A safe subject, and I launch into the scintillating world of graphic design and romance book covers.

For the next fifteen minutes, we talk about our lives and they never press me more about how Penn and I are acquainted.

The team comes out onto the ice for warm-ups and I lean forward on the edge of the balcony to watch Penn.

I’ve seen him on TV dozens of times over the years and he is a sight to behold on the ice. His talent is unmatched in this league.

Willa nudges me and nods toward the owner’s box entrance.

Everyone has turned that way because Brienne Norcross has joined us, effortlessly commanding the space.

She’s stunning—tall, poised, dressed in a sleek gray pantsuit with deep plum heels.

People gravitate to her immediately, offering hellos and handshakes.

She smiles graciously, saying something to a cluster of VIPs before her gaze lands on me.

My stomach flips as I think the worst. That the intense scrutiny she’s leveling my way has everything to do with dislike of me as a person.

“She’s amazing,” Lilly whispers. “Don’t be nervous.”

“She’s already your biggest fan if she invited you here,” Willa adds and stands up from her seat, making a shooing motion at me. “Let’s go up and talk to her.”

I exit the aisle and walk up the three steps that lead into the main part of the box. Brienne meets me with her hand extended. “You must be Mila. I’m Brienne Norcross.”

I try to smile through the nerves. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Her smile softens. “The honor is mine.” She looks to Willa and Lilly, then back to me. “Can we chat privately for a moment?”

“Um… sure.”

Lilly touches my arm and winks at me. “We’ll save your seat.”

I return her smile and then follow Brienne as she leads me to a quiet corner of the lounge.

Brienne puts her hand on my upper arm and squeezes reassuringly.

“I just wanted to say that I’m aware of everything going on.

And I want you to know, I’m here to support you in whatever way I can.

You’re a friend of Penn’s and my understanding is you had his back a long time ago, and so now I’ve got your back. ”

Emotion pricks my throat. “Thank you. I don’t know why you’d do that, but it means a lot.”

“Well, I take my players safety and well-being very seriously.” Her hand falls away, but she continues gently. “Penn mentioned hiring a private investigator. I think that’s smart.”

“I do too,” I say, although that doesn’t add much to the conversation.

“I’m also prepared to hire security for you, but Penn declined.”

“I appreciate it, but I feel safe with him. We’re good.”

She nods. “Well, hopefully we’ll get to the bottom of this soon. I know Penn doesn’t want this advertised to the team. As I’m sure you know, he’s a very private person so rest assured, this has gone no further than me, Callum Derringer, you and Penn.”

My stomach drops and a wave of guilt crashes over me. Penn is very much a private person and Brienne Norcross has an image to maintain for this team. No one knows that I’ve spoken to a reporter. That the story’s written. Scheduled. Ready to drop.

I don’t know that I thought of the repercussions once this goes public beyond putting a spotlight on me, which would in turn keep me safe. But that spotlight will be on Penn, Brienne… the whole fucking team.

I feel nauseated and I open my mouth to confess all. But it closes just as quickly. Perhaps I can stop this thing.

We talk a bit more—she’s kind, thoughtful, even warmer than I expected. And the longer we speak, the worse I feel.

After she excuses herself to greet someone else, I slip back into the private bathroom. I don’t notice the luxury details, instead pulling out my phone with shaky hands to dial Jillian Towne.

I squeeze my eyes shut in despair when I get her voicemail. “It’s Jillian. You know the drill. Speak at the beep.”

Beep.

“Jillian, it’s Mila. I know I said to run the story, but… I’ve changed my mind. I’ve got someone helping me now. Someone I trust. I don’t think it’s the right time anymore. Please call me back.”

I end the call and stare at my reflection.

Too late? Maybe not.

I just need to hear her say she’ll pull it.

The game starts and I rejoin Willa and Lilly. I try to focus on the ice. The energy. The thrum of the crowd.

But every time I glance down at my phone, there’s nothing.

No missed call.

No voicemail.

No text.

Until, finally, one pings.

From Jillian Towne. I’m so sorry, Mila. I couldn’t stop it. It’s already gone to print. It’ll be out tomorrow morning.