Page 85 of Rule 4: Never Get Stranded with a Sports Reporter

Yellow and white bulbs continue to flash. A red light is on: I’m being recorded on video too. Will I appear on the news? I’ve worn these clothes for a week straight. I have a beard. And not the fun, Stanley Cup play offs kind.

I’m happy, I remind myself. This is what I hoped for. I wanted to return. I’m safe.

But nothing seems safe now. When will the paparazzi ask the right questions? And what will I say to them?

At least Cal is no longer in danger. There are hospitals all over if Cal gets injured.

“I’m happy to be back,” I repeat.

And then, even though people have stopped around me, even though people are shouting more questions, I shove my way through the crowd, grunting apologies.

I need to order an Uber, but when a hotel pick-up van stops, I dash inside.

CAL

I don’t see Jason at the baggage terminal. He must have left without saying goodbye. It’s fine. We’re safe. That’s the important thing.

“Cal!” A familiar voice shouts my name, and I jerk my head toward the sound.

My sister waves her arms frantically toward me, her curly dark hair spilling from her lime green woolen hat, and I rush over to her.

“Tessa!”

There’s a steel bar separating us, but there’s no way I’m going to wind my way around the long barrier.

I duck under it and take her in my arms. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

Tessa doesn’t travel anywhere. I don’t think she’s ever been in Louisville, and that’s the next state.

“You’re alive!” Tessa exclaims happily.

“You heard?”

“About the jet ski incident? Everyone heard. I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Tess.”

She laughs. “Not your fault, silly.”

I squeeze her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”

“Obviously.” She tosses her hair. “You were hanging out with the worst of the worst. Like couldn’t you have been doing a story on Finn Carrington or Evan McAllister. They’re dreamy.”

“They’re in relationships.”

She blinks. “What does that have to do with—?”

“Nothing,” I blurt. “Just no shipping me with taken men.”

She tilts her head. Her eyes are narrowing, and I sweep my head around to make sure Rex and Jeremy are not right behind me.

Oddly, they aren’t.

They seem to be entrenched in a conversation of their own, even though you would think they’d had enough of each other. But then Jeremy was crushing on Rex when I last saw him. He probably still is.

“Where are you staying?” I ask.

“Your place?” Tessa asks hopefully.