Page 3 of Something to Prove

Okay, not my best line, but it did the trick. Walker blinked like an owl, stunned into silence. Good.

I quelled the strong desire to flip him off, settling for the nasty sneer I usually reserved for riling opponents on the ice. Curled lips, ugly stare with dead eyes…not pretty at all. He flinched, which kinda made me feel bad. But fuck that. My anger was totally justified, and it pissed me off that he dared to pull the innocent act.

Did he really think I’d forget what he’d done? Not fucking likely.

Maybe he didn’t owemean apology, but I certainly didn’t owe him my time.

I hoped he’d gotten the message loud and clear ’cause this—right here, right now—was the last interaction I’d ever have with Walker fucking Woodrow.

CHAPTER 2

WALKER

Rude.

Rude.

Rude.

I didn’t like Ty Czerniak. I didn’t like big, burly hockey players. I didn’t like hockey.

Just…Ugh!

Unfortunately, I wasn’t a football fan either.

I wrinkled my nose at the supersized shirtless linebacker guzzling a gallon of water, unbothered that a third of the contents dribbled down his chin and along his thick and heaving chest. I’d like to claim it was sexy, but Arlo was a ding-dong with an inflated ego and a small willy he “accidentally” showed off whenever his towel slipped.Yawn.

Robin clicked dozens of action photos while I waited for my subject to hydrate and hopefully share a few words of wisdom about the football team’s first win of the season.

This was hell. If anyone had told my younger self I’d finagle my way into a job that included a press pass to locker rooms filled with sweaty muscular men, I’d never have believed it. Not my cup of tea. First of all, sweat…ew. And second, locker rooms were generally affiliated with sporty endeavors which requiredextra peppy energy on my part. I didn’t hate all sports, per se, but toxic masculinity was a doubleew. Case in point, Arlo.

However, the eye candy was nice and there were a few sweet “perks,” like prime seating at the games, behind-the-scenes access, and exclusive interviews.

Okay, that last one wasn’t a guarantee.

Grr. You guessed it—I was still sore about my botched attempt to secure an interview with Ty Czerniak. Very sore.

I didn’t deal with rejection well. I was a fixer. I wanted to know what I’d done wrong, what I could do better, and if possible, how I could change your mind. Pathetic, huh? It wasn’t that I wanted everyone to like me. It was more that I didn’t likeknowingthat someone hated me or harbored actively ambivalent feelings.

By the way, don’t tell me active ambivalence isn’t a thing. As the only child of divorced parents who’d shipped me off to boarding schools at the first opportunity, I was very familiar with the concept of people being aware of your existence without feeling the need to engage.

Oh, boohoo. Life was full of lemons. If you weren’t out there making lemonade, you’d never stand a chance. I knew that better than most.

Did I have something to prove? Darn tootin’, I did. I wanted to be someone, and I wanted the people who’d written me off to take notice. So far, it was going pretty well, if I did say so myself.

What’s New, Smithton?was mind-bogglingly popular. Seriously. A streaming channel with a million followers and prolific sponsorship was nothing to sneeze at.

What had started as a mini side project for a communication class my freshman year had blossomed into a thriving business whose objective was to highlight people, places, and events of interest in a teeny, tiny college town.

Not gonna lie, I’d never dreamed there was an audience for people interested in everything from the history of Smithton to our taste in coffee, music, and food. My highest rated episodes last year had been a segment on a new yarn shop and the shirtless interview I’d done with our curling team. No, no,I’dkept my shirt on, but those goofballs went off-script and the result had been comedy gold. We’d gone viral…again. Honestly, that might have been the story that pushed our subscribership into the stratosphere.

That and the “Valentine Sneak Kiss Cam” episode a year and a half ago.

And yes, that episode was the reason Ty Czerniak hated me.

Sigh.

I understood. I really did.