Sugar and Ice - RJ Scott Page 0,17

so wrong now at Dallas, I could move on, start again, and show my team that I wasn’t what she made me out to be.

Then the worst of it happened—the interviews, the blog posts—and she was riding this fake fame into the sunset. At first it was nothing too bad; she’d implied that I was manipulative, using my money to buy people off. When pressed about the kinds of things I’d allegedly done, she would simply dab her eyes and shake her head. Sometimes she would rub at her side, implying I’d hurt her.

I picked up a stone and threw it into the dark to fuck knows where, then another, and another.

I’d finally thought that somehow I’d made it to a team where I could start again. Here I was just a player, a skater intent on getting his team to the playoffs, I’d even payed Lacey to stop spreading lies.

One million dollars for her silence. Not that it started out as a million for silence, but it sure ended up that way. My heart ached, and I rubbed my chest. For a few brief weeks I’d actually thought that I was… No. Don’t go there.

I didn’t care about the money, I just wanted her to leave me alone, to stop lying, to get over the fact I’d broken off our engagement.

Guilt consumed me and I stopped throwing stones, bending at the waist as the pain in my head grew. I’d really thought I could make a life with Lacey, maybe have some kids, and I’d given her friendship, respect, and fidelity. None of what we’d had was real, just my agent saying my optics were bad, but if I’d said no to start with, if I’d never proposed to her, if…

And now, the worst of what she knew had been added to her blog, that I’d been in lust with freaking Tennant Rowe. Yet I’d still come to this stupid party. I was ashamed, mortified, angry, but I’d showered, shaved, done my hair, dressed nice, and I’d actually thought it was a good idea to come here.

Face it, own it, laugh it off.

And then Vlad had joined in the freaking joke, and my heart hurt. I knew the captain found me irritating, probably thought I would break up the Raptors, and from his actions it was clear that beyond the ice he didn’t see value in me, but to take what had hit the Internet today and push the joke this far? That was shit, and it hurt, and I needed to work my way through the anger.

“Been looking for you.” A voice came from the darkness, and the fury at Vlad subsided in an instant and instead it was embarrassment that flooded me. Ryker had found me.

“You’ve found me,” I didn’t move from the bench, but I shuffled to one side in case Ryker wanted to sit down.

“We probably need to talk,” Ryker murmured, and sat on the bench at the opposite end.

“Do we have to?” I was mortified that I was stuck in the darkness with the one person I’d hoped to avoid being alone with. In my head I laughed off today’s blog post. Ryker would have been in a group of teammates and I would have endured some teasing, but then it would’ve been over. Planting myself here, all worked up over Vlad had now made me vulnerable to a heartfelt conversation.

“Well, the blog said you were in love with Ten, and that is why he left Dallas, because you made him feel like he didn’t fit there.”

“I’m sorry, Ryker—”

“Well, it’s horseshit. He was traded because of cap space, we all know that. Dallas couldn’t have both of you. So anyway, the Railers is the best thing that ever happened to him, and he didn’t leave Dallas because of you.”

What was Ryker saying? He didn’t sound like he was accusing me, if anything he sounded like he was supporting me.

“None of it was true.”

“Ten always thought you were a better player.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, felt like he would always be second best, and that he’d find first line success elsewhere. Not only did he find that with the Railers, but he found Dad.”

I buried my face in my hands. Ryker was warning me off from his stepdad. I knew this was going to happen. Fucking Lacey and her fucking blog post.

“I’m sorry Ry, you know I wouldn’t—”

“I had this huge poster on my wall, of you and Ten, remember that back-to-back photo shoot you did for Bauer?”