Page 43 of What If I Hate You (Anaheim Stars Hockey #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

BLAKELY

I ’m snuggled in Barrett’s hoodie, curled into the corner of his couch like a half-feral cat, when the knock comes.

It’s not a polite knock. It’s more like the we-know-you’re-in-there kind.

Barrett shoots me a look over his shoulder from the kitchen.

“I didn’t invite anyone,” he says, which, given the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, means he absolutely knows who it is.

The door swings open without waiting for an answer.

In storms Griffin, all six-foot-something of him, trailed by the rest of the guys and their wives and girlfriends.

It’s like a hockey-themed parade in here.

Jackets come off, shoes kick into a heap, and before I can process what’s happening, Barrett’s living room has been invaded.

“Surprise!” Marlee sings, shoving a bakery box into my lap and then giving me a hug.

“Cupcakes. Because carbs are good for the soul and yours needs a little TLC.” She opens up the box and takes one out, shoving it in her mouth.

“Also, I haven’t eaten all day and these smelled way too good in the car when I picked them up from the bakery. ”

I blink at them all. “What… what are you guys doing here?”

“Uh, we’re here because we heard you had a bad day,” August says, playfully rolling his eyes and dropping into Barrett’s armchair like he owns it. “Duh.”

“What he means,” Ella cuts in, “is that when one of us has a day, we all have a day. Because we’re family and that’s what we do for each other.”

My throat tightens. “You guys…I quit my job today. I’m not exactly family anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Corrigan says, cocking her head and staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You think just because you’re not the hard-assed, take-no-shit female reporter in the press room anymore that any of these guys would love you any less?”

“Hell,” Bodhi chuckles, “Teddy Bear probably loves you even more now that he knows his asshole doesn’t have to pucker every time you’re at the mic.”

“Fuck you, Roche.” Bear laughs and leans down from behind the couch and kisses the top of my head. “He’s joking.”

“Uh huh.” Bodhi lifts one of the new blue throw pillows from the couch. “Says the guy who literally has butthole pillows scattered over his couch. Nice by the way. You’re right. They look like soft fabric covered assholes.”

Bear acknowledges Bodhi’s comment with a bow of his head. “Thank you for complimenting my domesticated prowess.”

Layken plops down beside me, lifting a cupcake out of the box and tearing off the wrapper. “Honestly, babe, you deserve better than those corporate clowns anyway. They were sucking the joy out of you one asshat at a time.”

She’s not wrong.

“It’s not the subject that was sucking out my soul though.

It was the people. Why can’t they just let us do our jobs and do them well?

I love hockey. I’ve loved it ever since I was a little girl.

This is my dream job and I walked away because…

” I stop myself before I blurt ‘Because of Barrett’ because that’s not the whole truth at all.

“Because why?” Oliver asks. “I mean we heard you quit and that you had an argument with your boss, but that’s pretty much all we know. Not that you have to tell us.”

“Yes you do,” Marlee says, winking at me. “Tell them what happened.”

“My boss, Simon, gave me an ultimatum. Either I end things with Barrett and get a demotion, which would mean not being in the press room anymore and instead I’d be writing fluff pieces on what kind of community work some of you do outside the arena.

Or I continue to be in a relationship with Bear but immediately transferred out of state to a different team. ”

“What?” Griffin’s brows furrow in disgust. “That’s fucked up. You’re the only one in that room who very clearly gives a damn.”

“Yeah it is fucked up,” I agree with a nod. “So, I told him to go fuck himself and I quit because I’ll be damned if he’s going to make me smaller just because I’m in love with Barrett.”

Glances pass around the room at my confession, understanding smiles partnering with them.

From across the room, Barrett leans against the wall, his arms folded, his eyes locked on me in that way that makes my chest ache and my cheeks heat.

“You deserve to be with people who know and respect your worth better than those dumbass suits ever did,” Griffin says.

Ledger gestures around the room. “And we’re those people. So, whatever you need—contacts, references, a hit squad?—”

“Ledger,” Marlee warns.

He shrugs playfully. “What? I’m just saying, options.”

I laugh, which feels weird after the day I’ve had. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously loyal,” Griffin corrects. “You’re one of us now, Blakely. No takebacks.”

“Exactly,” Layken agrees. “And if you want my professional opinion, you should fucking torch them all.”

“ Torch them? ” I ask, half-laughing, half-confused.

“Not literally,” she says with a shrug. “But write about it. Tell the world what that network does to women in the workplace. The crappy pay gaps, the condescending colleagues, the manipulative boss. The fact that you had to fight twice as hard for half the credit.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the room. Even the guys look fired up. Barrett gives a nod of approval and then pushes off the wall and comes over, resting a hand on the back of the couch behind me.

“You’d be doing more than defending yourself,” he says quietly, but I can feel the conviction in every word. “You’d be defending the next Blakely Rivers who walks through their doors.”

Something shifts in my chest.

Because these people aren’t just humoring me.

They’re here, cramped into Barrett’s living room, eating cupcakes and making battle plans, because they believe in me.

I glance around at the faces illuminated by the soft glow of Barrett’s new lamps, the warmth of their encouragement wrapping around me like a safety blanket.

Each one of them is so invested in my happiness, in my career, and in a world that could easily chew me up and spit me out.

It stuns me to realize I no longer feel like an outsider. Not here. Not with them.

Barrett’s presence is both reassuring and electrifying. I hate how my thoughts drift to how close he is, how the simple gesture of his hand on my neck sends little shivers down my spine.

Focus, Blake.

“I mean, you’re all right,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but the way Barrett watches me the way he always does, like a lion hunting his next meal, makes it impossible not to feel vulnerable. “But I don’t know if I should be stirring the pot like that. I’m still figuring out everything.”

“Let me put it this way,” Griffin interjects, “if you don’t make noise, they’ll never hear you. Use your voice, Rivers. You’ve got something to say that needs to be heard. So, say it.”

I glance back at Barrett, his face softening as he watches me, and I can’t help but smile. He’s the rock in this chaotic sea, the one who makes me feel brave even when the world tries to keep me silent.

“Okay, okay,” I say, trying to regain control of the conversation. “I love you all, really. But before we start drafting an expose, we need to brainstorm some options. I can’t just leap into this without thinking it through.”

“Eh, where’s the fun in that?” Griffin interjects, an impish grin on his face as he gestures dramatically. “Let’s overthrow the patriarchy and then we’ll worry about details!”

“Yeah, because nothing says success like chaos,” August scoffs playfully, earning a chorus of laughter that rings through the room like music.

And it feels so good.

I let the laughter wash over me feeling a weight lift from my shoulders.

It’s like being wrapped in a warm hug, a stark contrast to the chill of disappointment that had settled in my bones.

I catch Barrett’s eye again, and that intense look he wears, so fierce and protective but proud at the same time makes my heart flutter.

But as the playful banter continues, I can’t shake off a nagging thought. What if I’m making a mistake? What if my passion projects me deeper into an abyss I can’t climb out of? The idea of stirring the pot makes me a little queasy, even as a part of me craves the thrill of shaking things up.

“Okay, serious question,” I pipe up, my voice cutting through the raucous laughter. “What if they come after me? This isn’t just a game, it’s my career.”

The room quiets. I glance around, suddenly feeling exposed, as if I’d stripped off my layers in front of a crowd. Griffin leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression shifting from playful to serious.

“Blake,” he says, his voice firm. “You’re already dealing with their bullshit. What’s the alternative? Letting them push you around?”

I hesitate for a second, weighing my options like a player at a high-stakes game. Griffin’s words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. The truth is, I’ve already felt the heat of their scrutiny, the pressure that presses on my chest like a weight.

“I don’t want to be a target,” I finally admit, my voice softer, almost fragile.

“Too late for that, babe,” Scarlett tells me. “You’re already a target. You were a target from your very first day on the job simply because you have a vagina.” She shrugs like it’s just another Tuesday and I have to laugh because she’s not wrong.

I’ve literally been a target since day fucking one.

Barrett shifts behind me, his presence a steady anchor. “You won’t be alone in this.” His voice is low, but it cuts through my uncertainty like a knife. “We’re with you, Blake. All of us.”

“Damn right.” Ella nods. “I had people talk about me being the only female mascot in the league and then I performed rings around all of them. Showed them up at their own jobs.”

“That’s my girl,” August pats Ella’s ass with pride as she sits on his lap.