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THIRTY-ONE

Beck

T he conference room at the Cole and Spade Hotel in Vegas was currently as loud as a locker room, the guys in various states—some hungover, some still buzzed, only a few, like me, completely sober. But that hadn’t stopped me from tearing into those motherfuckers.

I didn’t care if it was one person’s mistake; we were a team. When one fucked up, we all fucked up.

By the owner, by the staff, and by the public, we were viewed as a whole.

And what this team had done yesterday while Jolie and I were ravishing each other’s bodies was inexcusable.

Since I was the captain, they first needed to hear it from me.

But I was only a small part. Jolie and her assistants would be here at any second, and I assumed the guys were going to hear it all again.

“Dude, you need to go on Instagram and type in Kirk Clark and see all the shit that pops up,” Landon said from the chair next to me.

“I don’t do social media—you know that,” I told him. “Besides, if I saw a meme, or whatever those things are called, with our defenseman’s face on it, I might lose my shit on everyone again.”

I glared at Kirk, who was on the other side of the room. He was reclined in his seat with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face. If he was feeling remorse—and on some level, he had to—he wasn’t showing it, and that only made me wilder.

“You mean like this one?” Landon tilted his phone toward me.

“This isn’t funny, fucker.”

“I’m not laughing.” He swiped his screen several times. “But look at this one.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Landon. Put your goddamn phone down and stop adding to the views.”

“My views aren’t making a difference—I promise that.” He turned his Whales hat backward. “According to one site, Kirk’s name has been viewed over twelve million times. And you know that’s not all from hockey.” He smiled. “I’m just thankful it was him and not me. I’m the king of bad decisions.”

I slumped down in my chair and pulled my hoodie over my head.

This was a fucking mess.

And now it had become Jolie’s mess. I couldn’t even imagine how this was affecting her. Aside from a text about thirty minutes ago that told me to round up the guys and have them come to the conference room, we hadn’t spoken since she’d run out of her suite three hours ago.

But I knew the fallout was going to be a PR nightmare, and she would be in the center of it.

The door opened, and Jolie and her two assistants walked in. The stress was evident on her face—bags were suddenly under her eyes, her hair messier than usual, like she’d been pulling at her strands. I could almost see the headache pounding behind her eyes.

My baby.

I just wanted to take care of her.

I just wanted to take her away from this mess.

She stood at the front of the table, holding the top of the vacant chair that I’d reserved for her, her knuckles white as she looked at the faces around the room.

“I’m assuming you’re all aware of the incident that occurred yesterday at the pool.

” She took a deep breath. “An incident that has now gone viral. Our team’s name is being dragged through the mud with the help of every news channel and social media site.

” She pulled at her sweatshirt—the first piece of clothing she could find in her room, which she had thrown on before she flew through the door.

“Our crisis PR team is on their way to Vegas. They’ve already drafted a statement that will be released to the press.

Kirk will have one as well, just slightly different, and he’ll release his at the same time.

At some point this evening, they’re going to have a meeting with you all and discuss this in more detail. ”

She folded her hands together. “In the meantime, I would appreciate it if the rest of you stayed silent. Don’t engage with any posts. Don’t offer any comments if the media reaches out to you. Don’t make your own statements. Our team will handle this. Not you.”

She glanced toward the seat of the chair, her hands rubbing back and forth across the cushion.

Kirk. I wanted to strangle that man. Not because of what he had done—although that was fucked up. But for putting Jolie through this. For causing the stress on her face. For causing these emotions to be running through her.

“I want you to hear me when I say that everyone in this room represents the Whales as a brand. You’re public figures. Every move you make has the potential of being captured on camera and shared across the world, as we witnessed yesterday and as we’re still witnessing today, unfortunately.”

She was avoiding my gaze, and I wondered if that was on purpose.

“You’re all adults. You know the difference between right and wrong.

I don’t want to scold you like children, and I don’t want to treat you that way.

” She backed up a few feet and crossed her arms. “I’m going to remind you that during the season, while you’re all under contract—whether you’re on the road or at home—you’re expected to represent yourselves professionally.

And having videos, like the one that’s now circling the internet at a speed I’m not comfortable with”—her hand went to the base of her throat—“is not something I want our team to be known for. And it’s something I’m certainly not proud of. ”

The room was already silent, but now you could hear a fucking pin drop.

Our coach would have been red-faced with spit flying out of his mouth had he been the one to just say those words to us. I’d already yelled at these fools, and I hadn’t been quiet or kind.

But Jolie was poised, her tone sharp, her message clear.

“Let’s remember how much talent is on this team and the hopes and dreams we have for this season.

” She pushed her hair back. “Please don’t lose sight of that, and please keep your focus on hockey.

” She paused. “Are there any questions?” When no one said anything, Jolie continued, “You can go back to your rooms now. If you’re hungry, have food delivered.

The hotel manager doesn’t want any of you at the pool, so let’s respect his wishes.

For the rest of the time we’re here, I would like you to lie low and don’t cause any reason for attention.

” She nodded toward the door to let us know she was done.

I got up, and as we made our way out of the conference room and hit the hallway on the way to the elevator, there was a mix of comments from the guys.

“Mama’s hot as fuck when she’s angry,” my right wing said.

“Maybe she wishes she were the one getting banged in the pool,” someone else said.

“But with a pussy like hers, you wouldn’t pull out to come in the water, you’d come in her?—”

“Keep it down,” I warned them, my fists on the verge of swinging. “Did you guys hear any-fucking-thing she said? We don’t need to cause any more attention, which means keeping your mouths shut.”

As I hit the button for the elevator, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

Jolie

I’ll come to your room in 20 minutes.

When I opened the door to my room, my girl looked defeated, like a balloon deflating of helium, circling right before it fell to the ground.

I didn’t just see it in her expression. It was her stature too—the way she was almost caving inward, looking exhausted, the doorframe holding her up and practically swallowing her.

I pulled her into my room, letting the door shut behind her, and I wrapped my arms around her. “Talk to me.”

Several seconds passed before she said, “Working for an NHL team isn’t for the weak.”

I pressed my lips on the top of her head, holding them there. “How bad is it?”

Her exhale was hot against my chest. “It’s not the absolute worst thing that could have happened. There are far worse situations we wouldn’t recover from. But it isn’t pretty.”

I leaned back, pulling my chest away to look into her eyes, holding her cheeks in the process. “And what about your dad?”

Her eyes closed at the mention of his name, her exhale even louder this time. “He wants to murder me.” Her eyes opened. “He’s blaming me for this entire thing.”

“Hold on a second. Kirk meets a girl in the pool. Decides to fuck her in it. Pulls out and comes in the water. The whole thing is caught on video, the video goes viral … and all of that is … your fault?”

She nodded. “Dad told me to be at the pool and make sure nothing happened. I left long before the guys”—she paused to rub her lips together, as though admitting this part was tough on her—“because, honestly, I couldn’t spend one more minute staring at you. It was becoming too painful to bear.”

I gave her a quick smile before I said, “You’re not the team’s babysitter.”

“Which is what I told my father when he first gave me the order.”

I held her tighter. “None of this is your fault.”

“Except, in his eyes, it is. One, why wasn’t I down there to stop this from happening?

And two, why couldn’t my team get ahold of me that evening or the following morning?

What was I doing for all those hours when I wasn’t answering my phone?

Dad hasn’t asked any of those questions, but I promise, those are the questions he has. ”

She put her hand on top of mine, clinging to it. “Do you know how shitty it is that Celeste had to call my dad and tell him the news? And that she and Joel had to go into full-blown boss mode? Mega shitty, Beck.” Her voice was getting quieter with each word. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.” My hands slid down to her neck even though she was still holding one. “The PR crisis team is going to take over from here. Statements will be issued by the team and Kirk. And?—”

“Not that. I mean, my future with the team.” Emotion was pouring into her eyes. “Dad isn’t happy. I’m worried that he thinks he gave me too much responsibility and I can’t handle it. We’re only on our first away trip—our first one, Beck—and this happens and?—”

“Baby, it’s going to be okay.” I held the back of her head and brought her against my chest again, squeezing her so tight.