Page 61 of Something to Prove

I bragged with twenty apple emojis.I’m drowning in apples…and holiday cheer. My aunt and uncle’s tree is so huge they almost couldn’t fit it inside.

I went into details, describing decorations and attaching photos, some with selfies at Ty’s request. I shared a video from the barn of the chickens and goats and filmed my grown cousins fighting over a game of checkers.

Looks like fun. Wish I was there.

And that was when I lost my mind.You should come.

CHAPTER 19

TY

I read Walker’s text…overand over, unsure what to make of it.

You should come.

He was kidding. And I had a perfect opening to turn this into something playfully dirty.I should come…in your ass. I miss that ass. I miss you. I miss?—

Okay, that clearly wasn’t the right tactic.

I set my phone on the bench and tied my skates while silently working on a snappy response that wouldn’t give me a chubby.

To Toronto?

Yes.

Running emoji.I’m on my way.

I stared at my cell for a beat, then shoved it into my locker and headed for practice.

Two hours later, I retrieved my cell from my locker, wiping sweat from my brow as I scrolled our recent conversation.

You should come. To Toronto.

A missed message from my agent popped up too. Weird. Toby didn’t call unless he needed something. Our most recent contact was a few weeks ago after I’d done the last segment forWhat’s New, Smithton?and I was pretty sure he’d said he’d touch base with me in the new year.

I showered and changed quickly, pressing his contact info as I stepped outside.

“Hey, Toby. What’s up?”

“Did you know that the influencer kid’s dad is Ketchum Clomsky?”

I froze.

Fuck.

I hadn’t been expecting that one. I stopped for a beat, but the cold December wind wasn’t conducive to a slow stroll. I picked up my pace, making a beeline for the parking lot.

“I…um, where’d you hear that?” I asked as I unlocked my Jeep and slid behind the wheel. I started the engine to get the heater running, aware that my heart had jumped to my throat.

“Someone with the Jackals dug it up as part of their due diligence. They’ve got a rookie making waves before he’s on their ice, and they wanted to be sure he wasn’t aligning himself with PR issues. Turns out his parents are more weirdly famous than we thought. Ketchum Clomsky. Can you believe that? No one has seen Clomsky in a decade. He dropped off the face of the earth. Substance abuse…or maybe painkillers. Poor bastard. You don’t know anything?”

“Me? No.” Which was basically true.

“Really? Woodrow never shared that his father played in the N-H-fucking-L with someone who punched his ticket to the pros? Seems odd if you ask me, but hey…interesting news, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, uh…it is.” The stammering shit had to stop. I took a deep breath and added, “But it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Maybe not directly. Interesting coincidence. I can just see a clever PR person take the opportunity to pull the stringstogether and make something out of nothing.” Toby snort-laughed, but his tone changed slightly. “Then again, how cool would it be to have a past legend endorse a rookie? Huh, that might be a good angle to?—”