Page 6

Gunner

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I pull it out and turn the ringer back on.

A quick glance shows a text from Sebastian.

I don’t bother to read it.

I’ll check it as soon as I finish with Chloe.

Speaking of.

.

.

I watch her as she talks to whoever it is that’s reaming her out.

I frown, wondering what the deal is.

My phone dings again, but I ignore it.

When it dings twice more, I finally pull it from my pocket.

Sebastain- Dude, what was that?

You’re engaged?

Since when?

!

Rico - So I guess congratulations are in order.

When do we get to meet the lucky lady?

I mentally cringe when I see the one from my mom.

I forgot she would be watching.

She watches every one of my interviews, every game, anything that I’m involved in.

Mom- Gunner Michael!

We are going to be having words!

You’d better get over here soon and tell your mother what exactly is going on!

Zac - Did I miss something?

Aiden - just a heads-up.

Stan’s on the warpath.

Might want to make sure you know what you’re doing before you get back here.

Sebastian - Chloe?

You finally went for it?

I stare at his words in confusion.

What is he talking about?

Rico- laughing emoji

Rico- crying emoji

Aiden- might want to watch the replay of your interview

Aiden - at the end

Chloe's still on the phone, so I quickly pull up SportsStop and find my interview. I fast forward it to the end. I turn away from Chloe and watch as I stand up from the table and walk away. I frown in confusion. That was the end of it. Did I miss something?

“Well, that was fun,” Chloe says, coming up behind me. I turn back to her, as she blows out a breath of frustration.

“Who was that?” I can’t help but ask because I could clearly hear somebody yelling at her.

“Stan,” she says flatly.

“Why was he mad?”

“Oh, he was just reaming me out for everything that went wrong in that interview.”

I frown. “I’m the one who did the interview.”

“Yes. I know. Anyway, I have to head back to my office. I’ll see you tomorrow for the game, okay?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my phone again.

“What are you frowning at?” she asks, coming closer.

“The guys are all blowing up my phone. Aiden told me to watch the end of the interview.”

“Why?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” She comes and stands right next to me, and I lower the phone so she can see too. I wish she wasn’t standing quite so close to me; she smells good. Really good; it’s hard to focus on whatever it is I’m supposed to be focusing on. I push those troublesome thoughts away and give all my attention to the screen. I rewind it a little bit, thinking maybe I missed something. We watch as the interview finishes, and I stand up to walk away.

“I don’t know what I’m missing,” I say.

“Wait,” she says absently. “They must say something about you in the next segment. Let me watch really quickly, so I know how to handle it.”

“ Well, that was Gunner Coftman from the Green Thunder. He is one of six captains we’ve been talking to— ” He stops talking and points. Suddenly, the camera pans. I stare in shock as the camera catches me staring down the director.

“ If I ever see you put hands on her again, you won’t like what happens. ” My jaw tightens as I process what I’m seeing and hearing.

The idiot director spouts off his nonsense. “ Then don’t have her in here for an interview; she’s a liability. She almost walked up there during the interview. Twice.”

“Then you should have let her. Don’t manhandle her again. ”

“ Unbelievable. ” The director leaves the screen, and then it’s just Chloe and me. She stares up at me, and the look I’m giving her...I palm the back of my neck. The cameras aren’t close enough to pick up our private conversation, but no words are needed. The image does the perfect job of making us look far too cozy. The camera pans back to the co-hosts who are grinning like cheshire cats. I never liked those two.

“ Well, that was interesting, ” one of the guys says.

“No.” Chloe takes my phone from me and clicks on the comments. “No.” She scrolls down. “No, no, no.”

I don’t have to read the comments to know what they say. They set that up perfectly. I can’t do anything while she has my phone, so I just wait. She finishes a moment later and all but shoves it back at me. “This is a mess. The comments are a hot mess. Everybody’s already paired us up.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath; I’ve seen her do this before when she’s super stressed. The urge to comfort her hits me hard, and I take a small step backwards. “Okay. Okay. We can deal with this. Who actually is the girl that’s going to be your fiancé? We need to get on this asap. We’ll set you up on a few dates, get her a ring, get her to come to some of your games and take photos. We’ll clear all this up. Okay, who is she?” She looks up at me expectantly. And suddenly, I can’t form a coherent word. “Coftman?”

I force the words out, looking around first to make sure there’s nobody around trying to take pictures or anything. “I don’t have anybody.” My words are so low, I’m sure she can barely hear them.

“What?” She steps closer.

“I don’t have anybody,” I repeat.

She stares at me in shock. “But in the interview, you said you had a fiancé.” I nod. “But you don’t have anyone?”

“I panicked and went with what we talked about. This was your idea,” I feel the need to point out. She closes her eyes again, and this time I get the distinct impression that she’s counting. Something about it, that I’m the one driving her to do it, makes me want to laugh. I don’t because I’m pretty sure she’d murder me.

She takes a deep breath. “It’s so good I don’t drink alcohol,” she mutters under her breath. At least that’s what I think she says. “Okay. We go back to the original plan. Everything is back on track. We just get a woman, put a ring on her finger, and you have a fiancé. We just need somebody like today. Did any of your teammates’ wives’ have anybody?” I palm the back of my neck again and feel the heat rising in my checks. I need to get back to the ice and work out some of this tension in my body. “Did they?” she asks again.

“No.”

“Okay. Who do you know?” she asks boldly. “What women have you gone on dates with that you could handle being fake engaged to?”

“None.”

“What do you mean none?” she asks. “Gunner, this is serious. We have to find somebody. You announced to the entire world that you’re engaged. You can’t be suddenly not engaged.”

“I did that because you told me to,” I remind her.

“Well, yeah, once we had a girl.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You know if you wouldn’t have avoided me all week, we could have worked this out for today. But you refused to talk to me.”

“That’s because I don’t want some woman I don’t know pretending to be my fiancé. I’m not a good actor; I can’t pull that off.”

“Well, then what are we supposed to do, Gunner?” she asks exasperated. A small thrill goes through me that she actually called me by name instead of my last name. I don’t think she even realizes she did. “You maybe shouldn’t have announced it on live tv if you weren’t planning on going that route.”

“You do it.”

Silence falls, and I watch her carefully. Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “What?”

“You do it. Play the part of my fiancé. Everybody already thinks we’re a couple after that video, so just go with it.” I shrug, even though nothing about this conversation is easy. She stares at me, and I think I might have actually stunned her to silence. I refuse to let the smile escape that wants to, only because I’m worried she’ll murder me where I’m standing.

“I’m the PR agent for the team; you play for the team. We work together! We can’t date or be engaged or whatever!” She throws her hands up at this.

“We can,” I say quietly. “I looked into it.”

She stares at my face, and I can see I’ve totally shocked her. “I...we can’t...” She falls silent. “I can’t,” she finally says, and my chest aches.

“Okay,” I say simply.

“It just wouldn’t work. We both work for the team. I’m your agent; you play for the team. We have nothing in common, and neither of us are good actors.”

“It’s fine, Chloe. I'll figure something out. I’m heading back to the facility. I’ll see you there.” I stride towards my truck and climb in but keep an eye on her to make sure she gets to her car okay. She seems lost in thought for a moment before she finally walks over to get in her car. I keep a little distance but follow her back to the facility. She has a lead foot; she’s always in a hurry to get wherever it is she’s going. When we get back, she nearly bolts from her car and walks quickly to the door. I give her time before I follow as it’s not my intention to make her feel uncomfortable.

When I get into the building, I decide to go deal with this now. I don’t want it to be awkward and uncomfortable between us. I’ll tell her to forget about my suggestion, and I’ll find somebody. Somebody somewhere has to be willing to date me. Right? I’m suddenly not so sure. And not somebody who’s just a puck bunny. I grimace; that would be terrible. When I get close to Chloe’s office, I hear yelling. I quicken my pace. I recognize Stan’s voice; he’s a hot head. But when I hear my name, I don’t slow as I walk in.

“Hey,” I say upon entry. “Don’t yell at her. If you have a problem about what went down today, you talk to me. I’m the one that did the interview.”

He turns on me, eyes narrowed. “What’s with you? Threatening the director of SportsStop? Do you even want any endorsements?” I don’t respond to his tantrum. He turns back to Chloe. “I thought you were going to deal with this Jenny issue.”

“I did,” Chloe says calmly. “I told them explicitly that she was off-topic for today, but—”

“Well, you obviously didn’t do a good enough job if our player had to deal with it.”

“Hey…” I interrupt, but Chloe’s ahead of me.

“I know.”

Stan shakes his head. “This whole thing is a mess! Chloe, you’re supposed to keep these things from happening, not cause them. Get it fixed now, or I’ll find somebody that can.”

He walks out, slamming the door behind him. “Is he threatening to fire you?” I ask incredulously.

She sits behind her desk, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She sounds so defeated and tired, I study her face a moment. I take in the dark circles, the pale skin, and her pronounced cheekbones and frown.

“Are you okay, Chloe?” I ask suddenly.

She gives a tired laugh. “I’m peachy, Coftman; thanks for asking. Today has been a stellar day.”

“No, I mean. Are you feeling okay?”

Her head snaps up. “Why?” her eyes are narrowed, and I get the impression to tread lightly.

“You just look tired.” I keep my voice relaxed.

Her whole body seems to sag in relief, and I take note. “I’m fine.” I don’t say anything, but I don’t think she is fine. I make a mental note to check in on her more often. Of course, that’s going to be difficult because...she’s Chloe.