Page 114 of Puck My Life

I hesitate.

“Why? What’s the purpose?” I stress. “Why are you doing this? What do you even want?”

She’s got me, and we both know it.

“Oh, you’re going to come back to me. We’re not over yet.”

“Indy, what’s the point? We don’t love you; I’m pretty sure we don’t even like you.”

“I don’t need you to like or love me. You just need to be my boyfriends. I want to be a hockey omega. I earned it. For fuck’s sake, I attended the games, I cheered, I learned all the stats, I know everything about you two. I was the perfect girlfriend.”

“We’re not a damn career path,” I snap out and punch the fridge. She doesn’t so much as flinch.

“You are to me. You never spend your money; you have it all set aside. I want that.” She almost purrs the words.

“You want money?”

“I want you to spend your money on me, showing me off on your arm in designer gowns at all the awards ceremonies, in front of all the cameras.”

“You’re out of your mind!” I roar at her.

“I’m going to give you a couple of hours to talk to Deacon about it. I’m not interested in a wannabe musician, so Raynor can date your foster sister if he is so inclined. He’s not in this deal; it’s just you, me, and Deac.”

My hands shake as she moves towards me. I can’t even stop her as she presses against me, leaning up and pressing her lips to my cheek. Her scent makes me gag.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“How do I know you aren’t lying?” I whisper.

Her long fake eyelashes lower onto her cheeks and then lift, revealing her toxic soul. She pulls out a thick orange envelope, drops it on the table, and steps away from me, swinging her hips. She turns back at the doorway and bites her bottom lip, looking me up and down.

“I look forward to making up with you, lover.”

I seethe as she leaves. As soon as I hear her car pull away from the driveway, I upend the envelope. With shaking hands, I turn over the photos and flick through them one at a time, and though they are all innocent, to outsiders, the evidence will be damning.

Vae looks like she’s always been our girlfriend. There are photos of her asleep in my arms, Deacon’s arms, on the couch, in our beds. A kiss on her forehead, on her lips. Nothing sinister, but it looks bad. And then there’s the way we look at her.

I stare at her with my heart in my eyes. How did I not realise how I felt? It’s in all of our eyes in every photo. Our devotion and our feelings were plain to see.

I turn the last photo over, and I find a photo of me entwined with Vae in her bed; the sheet covers our bottom halves, but our legs are out under the sheets, twisted together, and I’ve got my face buried in her throat.

I look like I’m fucking her, and she’s holding me tight, her knuckles white. How the fuck did Indy get this?

I lower my head and scream.

Indy was recording us the entire time. There’s no way we can recover. Our careers would be over. In a heartbeat, in a second. We’d never find another team to work with.

But worse, Vae would be absolutely raked over the coals. The court of public opinion would assassinate her character. It would be she who suffers, not us. She would be the one who our fans aimed their arrows at.

I can’t bear the thought.

For two hours, I sit with the photos, with all the evidence. In every single scenario, it comes back to one horrible truth.

There’s no other option.

We’re getting back together with Indy.

When Mal and Raynor get home, we talk it through. They scream and rage, and, in the end, the three of us sit around the table with white faces.