Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
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Somehow, I managed to avoid Wade at work today.
After I went down to shoot some footage of the guys at practice, I zipped back to my office before they headed into the locker room for weight training.
Except for the goofy video I filmed of Zayne loosening the tops of the water bottles at the players’ bench, I made sure I stayed in the shadows so Wade didn’t see me.
But if I don’t talk to someone about what happened last night—not to mention Chase blackmailing me—I’m going to spiral down like I did after I found he was cheating on me.
Not that kissing Wade compared to my cheating ex—Chase never held me like that. Not by a long shot. Wade kissed me like a man suffocating, and I was the air his lungs desperately needed. A shiver runs through me just thinking about it.
I just wish I knew what it meant, if anything. Or why I kissed him. What was I thinking? I know the threat from Chase has me reeling, but anytime I’ve needed comfort from Wade, a hug has sufficed. But in that crazy moment, I wanted more—needed more. And what really scares me? I still do.
Before I left his place last night, we talked about hanging out again tonight, but I think that was his way of reassuring me that we were fine, back to normal, even.
When Wade sent me a text earlier, telling me that he planned to go out with his teammates instead—that it was mandatory, whatever that means—I felt a little disappointed but also relieved. Until I can figure things out, figure me out, I don’t know how to act around him.
We left things in a good place last night, mostly thanks to him.
But I kind of hoped he’d bring it up, perhaps tell me he couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss, too—in a good way because I can’t stop thinking about it.
About him. And I might as well confess that my thoughts don’t resemble best-friend behavior.
Maybe he’s avoiding me, too. I can’t blame him, since I’m the one who practically threw myself at him. Did he kiss me back just to be nice? A pity kiss?
I can totally imagine him doing that, but then wouldn’t the kiss have felt forced or stiff? If anything, it felt natural…inevitable. Like we’d kissed each other a thousand times before, yet new and exciting at the same time.
Not to mention hot. I had no idea he could kiss so passionately. Why would I? I never thought of him in that light except for a brief time in high school. It was fleeting, no big deal. I made myself get over it then, and I can do it again.
I’ll rein in all these overwhelming emotions and return to my blissful state of thinking of Wade as only my best friend. Not a hot hockey player whose kiss set my world on fire.
That’s why I need to talk to someone about ‘the incident.’
I could text the girls. They added me to their group chat, The Puck Babes, despite my argument that I’m not in a relationship with a hockey player.
Sophie argued that technically I was, since Wade and I are—were?
—best friends, and Mia said I didn’t have a choice because she liked the name too much to change it. Lily rolled her eyes at that one.
Trying not to overthink, I pick up my phone and open the chat, noting their tiny images sitting next to previous messages.
They’re amazing women, all of them. Strong and determined, yet compassionate and authentic.
Even though I haven’t known them that long, I feel like I can trust them to keep it between us.
But how do I text-splain I kissed Wade without them turning it into a thing? I put the phone down again. Maybe it is a big deal? Or maybe it just feels that way to me?
Groaning, I cover my face with my hands.
I can’t stop thinking about how my entire body came to life when Wade pulled me against him as a surge of excitement shot through me.
How his lips felt—firm and commanding—over mine as he not only returned the kiss but took over like he owned me.
And how much I liked every touch, every sensation.
I’ve lost track of how many times I found myself staring at nothing, distracted at my desk while I relived every detail.
I pick up my phone again. I’ll suggest a girls’ night out and work it into the conversation organically. That’ll make it easier, right?
After putting down and picking up my phone two more times, I tap out a message to the group and hit send before I chicken out.
Bree: Feel like hanging out tonight?
Sophie: I’m always up for girl time!
Mia: And wine. Let’s not forget the wine. I’m in the mood to celebrate.
Lily: What are we celebrating?
Mia: It’s almost Thanksgiving, which means I get a break.
Lily: Sounds a little premature…
Mia: Trust me, it’s not.
Sophie: Mia, you love your job, and you know it.
Mia: Whatever
Bree: So, is that a yes?
Sophie: Definitely
Mia: Packing up to leave work now.
Sophie: It’s almost six on a Friday, and you’re still at school. See? You love your job.
Mia: So do you, but even you said you need a break from time to time.
Sophie: Touché
I admit, these women can go off the rails sometimes, but I’m desperate to get this weight off my chest in exchange for some perspective.
Bree: Can we finish this conversation at the TT?
Lily: On my way. I’ll get us a booth.
Sophie: Order hushpuppies.
Mia: And wine!
When I arrive, Lily’s already here. She waves at me from the same booth we sat in last time.
Four long-stem glasses of white wine stand like soldiers, guarding a basket of golden hushpuppies and several mini tubs of creamy tartar sauce.
I grab the closest glass and gulp down half of it.
Probably should have eaten one of those fried balls of dough they like so much first, since I skipped lunch, but I need some serious liquid courage right now.
Lily’s brows shoot up. “That bad, huh?”
I nod, studying the varnished wood grain of the tabletop.
A distinctive giggle reaches us from the front of the restaurant. I spin around and watch Mia laugh over something Sophie said as they approach. Mia slides in next to me, and Sophie sits by Lily.
Like me, Mia grabs a glass and takes a gulp, then sets it down with a flourish and a sigh. “That’s better. The world can carry on now.”
Sophie rolls her eyes. “Good to know.”
All business, Lily points at me. “She’s in trouble.”
The other two quickly sober and stare at me with concern.
Mia grabs my arm. “Are you pregnant?”
I jerk my head back. “What? No!”
She shrugs. “Lily said you were in trouble.”
Sophie lets out an exaggerated snort. “Were you born in the fifties? Being in trouble doesn’t have to mean that. And why would being pregnant automatically imply she’s in crisis?”
Mia smirks. “I work with children all day long. Trust me, they’re trouble.”
Shaking her head, Sophie points at her. “And you love it because they’re tiny versions of you.”
Donning a winsome smile, Mia glances upward and shrugs. “Yeah, and I really love the mischievous ones.”
I frown at her. “Why? Doesn’t that make your job harder?”
She shakes her head. “More interesting. The pay sucks, so I have to find other perks.”
“If you say so.” Lily swings her attention to me and lasers in like an interrogator. “Now, spill.”
Picturing how intense an encounter with her must’ve been back when she worked as a bodyguard makes me squirm in my seat. Normally, I don’t see her at the arena unless she’s running security for a game, and even then, she’s in full ‘don’t-mess-with-me’ mode.
I’d planned to bring up the whole “I kissed a Wade, and I liked it” topic organically. You know, a kind of drive-by admission you throw out the window and then speed away, hoping no one will actually hear you. But I need help to figure this out, and Lily just gave me the spotlight.
But in order to do that, I have to tell them the rest of the story, about what led to the kiss, because out of context, my decision seems reckless at best and careless at worst. I may have already wrecked my friendship with Wade.
A deep breath for courage. Closed eyes to center myself. A long exhale of determination.
I bring up the incriminating photo on my phone and place it in the middle of the table. “That’s not me.”
Sophie gasps. “Who sent this to you?”
“My ex.”
Mia drags it closer, studying the picture longer than I feel comfortable with. “I don’t think it’s completely AI-generated. Maybe photoshopped?”
Lily grabs my phone and pinches the screen in various places, enlarging parts of the image.
I want to crawl under the table, even though I’m certain that body isn’t mine, which makes me wonder about who the woman really is.
Was she a willing participant? And if not, does she even know someone photographed her in such a compromising position?
Chase would have no problem using this woman to get what he wants, just like he used me.
She hands my phone to me. “Can you email it to me at its original size? I suspect the man’s face was altered, too.”
When I first saw the picture, I was so focused on the woman wearing my face that I didn’t even think to look closely at the player. Since I didn’t recognize his face, I assumed he was a recent addition to the team.
I enlarge the image to see for myself. The profile of the man’s face reveals only so much, which makes identifying him difficult. But when I move the picture down, I notice a piece of a tattoo on his torso below where the woman’s side is pressing into him.
The moment I recognize it, my blood boils. “That’s Chase.”
All three lean in as I put the phone down and point to the partial design almost hidden in shadow. “Chase has a full-chest tattoo. Whoever did this missed that part. And I’m guessing the woman is Amber, the one he cheated on me with.”
Mia’s face twists into a frown. “Eww. So either he’s using her, too, or she’s a willing participant.”
Sophie cringes. “Double eww.”
Lily appears thoughtful. “What does he want from you?”
“A profile piece in USA Hockey Magazine. I used to have a contact there. I’d told Chase before I found out he was a jerk—”
“Scumbag,” Mia interjects.
“Total douchebag,” Sophie agrees.
“Sociopath,” Lily adds, pointedly.
That one hits home because I know she’s right. How could someone so easily play with the lives and emotions of others without having some remorse, unless they were incapable of feeling guilty on some level?
“He claims I still owe him that profile piece, even though I told him I don’t have a contact there anymore.”
Sophie straightens in her seat. “Technically, you do. Kind of.”
“Oh?” I stare at her as if my life depends upon what she says next, and in a way, it does.
“They picked up the article I wrote about Luke last season, and Rebecca introduced me to Peter Orion, their chief editor, during a game.”
I frown at her. “You’d be willing to write one about Chase?”
Her mouth slides into a maniacal grin. “Yes, but not the article he’s expecting.”
She swings her gaze to Lily in a silent exchange, then lifts a brow in question.
“I still have some contacts. I can get you a detailed analysis of the image by a known expert,” Lily asserts.
Mia holds her hand up. “I’ll proofread and handle moral support.”
Tears cloud my eyes before I feel the burn.
I’ve felt so alone and isolated in my attempts to deal with Chase and cut him permanently out of my life.
And just when I was about to lose hope of ever being free of him, I’m discovering I’m not.
I have a group of women who not only believe me, but are jumping in to help without hesitation.
I glance at each of them. “Thank you. I was going out of my mind trying to figure out how to deal with this alone.”
Sophie reaches for my hand. “We’ve got your back, Bree.”
Mia slings an arm over my shoulders. “Nobody messes with our girl. Right, ladies?”
Lily’s smile turns calculating, as if she already has ideas. “Not without seriously regretting it.”
Again, so glad that woman is on my side. Relief washes over me like the cool waves lapping the beach below the restaurant. I didn’t expect to get help with Chase, just with figuring out my situation with Wade.
Might as well tell them that, too. “There’s one more thing.”
Lily narrows her eyes. “More?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah…something happened the day Chase sent me that image. With Wade.”
Sophie gasps. “Oh no, did you tell him?”
Mia groans. “Did you show him the picture?”
I shake my head emphatically. “Good grief, no. I was too afraid of what he might do.”
“Smart girl,” Lily chimes in.
Mia side-eyes me. “Then what happened with Wade?”
I swallow down the ginormous lump in my throat and hunch my shoulders. “I kind of…kissed him.”