Page 26

Chapt er 26

Chloe

Thankfully, the third period starts up and everybody loses interest in the professional athlete and his girl.

I don’t really catch a whole lot of the beginning of the third period, but at least my heart rate finally slows down.

By the time it’s halfway through, I’m back in the game.

And when Greyson scores, I’m on my feet celebrating with the rest of the Chicago fans.

I elbow Gunner and shout above the noise.

“Must run in the family!” He smiles but doesn’t say anything.

The last two minutes of the game are so intense, I can’t look away.

Northern Michigan gets the puck and sends it sailing to their center who gets it and shoots.

Our goalie saves it, and the other defenseman gets it out of there.

But Northern Michigan takes control of it again.

The puck goes behind the net, and it’s a fight at the boards to get control of it.

Greyson gets slammed into the boards, and I groan out loud, feeling his pain.

We get control of it, but don’t get past the center.

They take control of it again and it’s two of them versus our goalie.

I want to close my eyes, but I don’t want to miss it.

It’s a battle to keep it out of our net, but our goalie does and gets it out of there.

The other defenseman takes it behind the net and sends it to the boards where the left winger is.

I glance at the clock.

Forty-seven seconds.

I squeeze my hands together under my chin and keep my eyes glued to the ice.

Our center gets it at the net and battles with the goalie, but their goalie gets it out of there.

Our right winger is there and takes it behind the net and circles around and shoots it in the side.

Score !

I join the screaming fans as the buzzer scores.

I turn to Gunner and throw my arms around him, still jumping up and down.

I turn back to the ice and grin from ear to ear as I watch Greyson’s team celebrate.

I feel a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here before it gets crazy.” I nod and step out into the aisle.

I let him go first because he’ll be able to make it through this crowd easier than I.

He puts out his hand behind him, and I don’t hesitate to put my hand in his.

I’m not stupid; I don’t want to get lost in this crowd.

He jogs up the steps, and I do the same.

I’ve done it enough times to not let my heels bother me.

He doesn’t slow his progress when we get to the top, even though we’re joined by fans on all sides.

He keeps us moving, and I hang on for dear life.

Gunner keeps a solid hold on my hand, even once we get outside as we weave in and out of college students.

We finally make it to his truck.

“Thanks for getting us out of there,” I say as he opens my door for me.

“That was a such a good game; your brother played so well.”

He gives me a soft smile.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” That soft smile stays with me as I climb in, and he closes the door.

I have to shake myself out of the stupor he put me in with that smile.

Gunner never smiles.

And like that?

That soft smile?

Never.

Desperate to feel normal, I ask, “Is your brother riding with us?”

“He’ll drive his car and meet us at home.”

“He lives with your mom?” I ask.

“No, but he’s going to stay there tonight while we’re there. He lives on campus.”

“Got it. Does your mom live far from here?”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Oh, wow. It makes sense that your brother stays on campus then.” I pepper him with questions on the way to his mom’s house for a while and relive the game.

He’s mostly quiet, but it doesn’t bother me.

I’m used to that from him.

I quiet after the first thirty minutes, and the rest of the ride is mostly quiet.

The music plays softly from the radio, and I find it hard to stay awake.

I see signs for Rockford, and he pulls off one of the exits.

After a series of turns, he pulls onto a well-lit street and pulls into a driveway of a modest home.

I glance at the clock and see that it’s almost eleven.

I yawn and cover it with my hand.

“Will your mom still be up?”

“Yeah. She’ll want to meet you.”

“Oh.” And just like that, it all returns to me.

She’ll be expecting her son’s fiancé.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t just tell your family the truth about us.” Gunner grabs our bags and shoos me away when I try to grab mine.

“I think we should just tell her the truth; she’s going to figure it out in like thirty seconds of being here.”

“Figure what out?” he asks with a glance towards me.

He stops next to me, and I take him in for a moment.

He looks so much like the professional athlete that he is with his ball cap on, several bags on his shoulder not even bothering him, and his black athletic pants and t-shirt that’s tight around his biceps.

I turn and face the door.

“There’s no way we’re going to pull this off.” He puts a hand around my back and almost pushes me towards the door.

“Don’t back out on me now, Leissman,” he says in his low voice.

I spin towards him.

“Why do we have to pretend? Just tell her the truth.”

“Because my mom’s good friends with Jenny’s mom, and I don’t trust her not to tell her that we’re not the real deal.”

The door opens before I can say anything.

“Gunner.” Gunner drops his arm from my back and steps forward to hug the short woman.

With his words ringing in my head, I can’t focus on anything else.

When they pull apart, and Gunner’s mom turns to me, I just stare.

“Hi, Chloe.”

Gunner puts a hand on my back, and that contact snaps me back to reality.

I force a smile to my face.

“Mrs. Coftman, it’s so nice to see you again.”

"You too, Dear.” She reaches out and pulls me into her arms, much stronger than I would think of a woman of her stature. “Come in, you two. You must be exhausted.”

Gunner lets me go first. “Wasn’t that such an amazing game?” Mrs. Coftman says as we walk further into her home.

Gunner nods, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes, it was.” One of us has to talk while we’re here. “Greyson had a great game.”

“Didn’t he?” Pride shines from her eyes.

“You must be so proud of your boys. What did you feed those two when they were growing up?” I ask.

She laughs. “Mostly peanut butter and jelly.”

I smile. “Well, it must have worked.” I follow her into the living room.

“Gunner, drop your bags off in the master bedroom.”

I frown at her. “Is that your room?”

She waves me off. “Yes, but I want you to have a nice room while you’re here. Besides, it’s the only one with a private bathroom.”

“Oh, we don’t want to take your bedroom. We’re fine with a spare room, aren’t we?” I ask with a pointed look at Gunner. He doesn’t say a word before leaving me and disappearing down the hallway. I bite back a sigh of frustration. “Seriously, Mrs. Coftman, we really don’t want to take your room.”

She puts two hands over my one hand. “It’s Sheryl, Dear. And I want you to. Please.”

I give up on fighting with her and glance around the room a moment. “You have a beautiful home, Sheryl.”

She beams. “Thank you, Dear. Now, I know you’re being polite, but you don’t worry about that. You have to be so tired. I’ll show you where your room is.” She doesn’t leave me a chance to object, and I find myself following her reluctantly down the hallway. She stops outside the door, and I turn back to her. She surprises me by hugging me again. “Get some sleep, and we can get caught up over breakfast.” Her eyes twinkle when she pulls back.

I open the door and quickly slip inside, closing the door behind me. Gunner steps out of the bathroom. “Were you hiding in here?” I whisper loudly.

He smirks. “I was coming back out.”

I huff. “Sure, you were.” I march over to him. “When were you going to tell me that your mom is friends with your stalker’s mom? And why didn’t you tell me?”

His frown deepens. “It never came up.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “You didn’t think to tell me that the woman claiming to carry your baby and threatening to destroy your name was close to your family?” I walk over to the bed and sit. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me any of this. This situation is so much worse than I thought.”

He unzips his bag and pulls out clothes on the other side of the bed. “No, it’s not.”

I stand up and face him. “Yes, it is.”

He calmly digs in his bag. “That’s part of the reason why I came here this weekend. I’m going to talk to her.”

“Jenny’s mom?” I whisper in a high voice.

“No. Jenny.”

“No, absolutely not.” I walk over to his side of the bed. “You cannot approach her.”

“I am.”

“Gunner Coftman! You can’t. The worst thing you could do is go talk to her.”

He turns towards me, and I nearly stumble back at the anger in his eyes. “She hurt you,” he says slowly. “I’m going to talk to her this weekend and set the record straight once and for all. She touches you again, and she will live to regret it.”

I swallow and tell myself not to react to his words. It has nothing to do with feelings. “You can’t threaten her.”

His eyes narrow. “Watch me.”

“No. If you threaten her, everything you’ve worked to achieve will be flushed down the toilet.” I stand tall. “I’m telling you as your PR agent that you can’t.”

“Don’t pull that on me,” he growls at me.

My anger rises, but I take a breath and keep my voice even. “If I get even a whiff that you are going to talk to her, I will go over your head, Coftman.”

He turns towards me and takes a single step. That step puts him close to me. “You can say whatever you want to say, Chloe. You can threaten me; threaten my position, whatever you want. It won’t change anything. I will talk to her, and I will tell her to stay away from you. And nothing you say will stop me.”

I stare up at him as anger flushes through me. “Well, then you can kiss your career goodbye.” I turn around, but he snags my wrist and turns me back to him.

“Don’t do that.” His voice is quiet. “Don’t get angry with me.”

I steel my emotions against his soft voice. “I won’t let you ruin your career over something stupid.”

He doesn’t move a muscle. “Protecting you isn’t stupid, and I would give up my career today if it meant keeping you safe.”

I gasp. “Gunner, you don’t mean that.”

His face softens, and his lips tip up on one side, making him look younger. His thumb comes up and grazes the side of my cheek. The touch is so soft and over in an instant; I almost wonder if I imagined it. “I’ve been wondering what it would take for you to call me by my name.”