Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
ADDIE
“You really think this is necessary?” I balk as the hairstylist holds up the can of hairspray for at least the fifth time since she finished doing my hair.
I’m in my uniform, pads and all, standing in front of the net, but my hair and makeup are over-the-top.
“You look gorgeous,” Savannah says from the bench.
“You realize I don’t wear my hair like this during a game, right? It’s normally hidden by my mask.”
“As is your face,” she argues. “And we can’t have you on the cover of Jolie with a mask covering that gorgeous smile.”
Stomach sinking, I throw a hand up and groan. “I never agreed to a cover.”
“Right, but this is huge. You’re the first female goalie the NHL has ever seen. Cat wants to celebrate you.”
I was told this was a photoshoot for the New Romantics article. Apparently they didn’t deem it necessary to inform me that my face was going to be on the cover of a fucking magazine.
My life feels like it’s spiraling out of control a bit. Ever since Sidney got hurt, I’ve been barreling forward and I haven’t had time to consider how this will all work.
The conversation with JJ this morning only reinforced that.
I’m tempted to stop playing this part in Savannah’s series, but she’s so excited, and I’m the one who offered to be her New Romantics girl.
How do I let her know that I no longer want to date a bunch of random men when I can’t tell her that I’ve already found my forever man because he’s married?
God, that sounds so bad.
It is bad.
And if I didn’t know the truth about their marriage, maybe I’d feel badly for stepping in like this.
But I do know the truth. Tabitha didn’t marry JJ for love.
She used him. Not even for her daughter like she told me that day in the hospital.
No, she used him for his money, and now that he’s cut her off, she’s stopped even attempting to have a relationship with her daughter.
She’s awful.
But I’m not stupid enough to believe that ours is a love story anyone would celebrate.
So I’m stuck standing in front of the net, goalie stick in hand, trying to look like a serious hockey player while also apparently looking like a sexy woman who is deserving of love.
I’m pretty sure I just look exhausted.
“You almost done in here?” Gavin calls as he enters the arena.
“Yes,” I yell.
Savannah, though, is louder. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Savannah,” he growls.
My best friend spins and gives him her megawatt smile.
Honestly, between her curves, her smile, and her sassy attitude, Savannah tends to get what she wants.
And if she can’t use any of those features, her sexy fiancé steps in and makes sure it happens.
But Gavin was Camden’s coach too, so he’s not afraid of him like most people would be.
“Two minutes.” He rolls his eyes and turns around. “Fucking beauty pageant on the ice.”
I wince. “Sorry, Coach.”
As he’s waving me off, Brooks, Brayden, and a man wearing a ball cap appear and walk toward him. The man is familiar in a way I can’t place, but from here, I haven’t gotten a good look at his face.
The photographer calls for my attention, so I push that thought aside, force a smile, and hope they get the damn shot.
Five minutes later, as I’m finally skating toward the bench, I realize why the man in the hat was so familiar.
“Ryan?”
“Addie.” My old Olympic coach breaks into a big smile, arms held out for a hug.
“What are you doing here?” I pull out of his hold and take in his familiar brown eyes. Ryan was my coach in both Olympic appearances, and we kept in touch, though since the season started, I’ve been too distracted to keep up with what he’s been up to.
I can barely keep my own head on straight.
“This is why I wanted to meet today,” Gavin grouses. “I was going to wait until Jarred and JJ got here, but seeing as how you were playing Barbie on the ice, I guess we’ll do this twice.”
I hold up my hands and take a step back. “Talk to Cat and your sister. They arranged for this.”
“Don’t you worry. Sienna will be hearing from me,” Gavin says.
His youngest sibling also happens to be the creative director for Jolie.
“Brooks,” he sighs, “can you call the guys and find out what’s taking them so long?”
“You look great,” Ryan says, stepping closer.
I grin. “So do you. What are you doing here?”
He looks over his shoulder at my uncle, and when I follow his line of sight, I discover Brayden is watching us very closely, his brows drawn together.
I wave at him. “Hey, Bray.”
He nods. “Figured JJ would be here with you.”
I shrug. “Nah, they didn’t ask him to pose for the cover. Then again…” I grin. “Ya think I can convince him to swap and put on the lipstick?”
Ryan laughs, but Brayden only grunts. For him, that may be the closest thing I’ll get. Or maybe not, since his expression is still dark and his focus is still fixed on Ryan.
A tendril of unease flows through me under Bray’s scrutiny, so I step back to put a little space between myself and my former coach.
“And who are you?” Savannah appears out of thin air, pushing her hand forward toward Ryan.
“Ryan Hobbs. The new assistant goalie coach for the Boston Bolts.”
My jaw drops. “Really?”
He breaks into another bright smile. “Yup. Looks like we’ll be working together again. I’m really excited about that.”
“Oh that is very exciting,” Savannah echoes.
“Ry, come here for a second,” Brooks calls.
“It was nice meeting you,” Ryan says to Savannah. Then he turns to me and winks. “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Well, he wouldn’t make a bad future ex-boyfriend,” my ridiculous friend coos the moment he’s gone.
I glare at her, suddenly sweating under my gear. “Oh my god. He’s my coach.” Which is so fucking weird, by the way.
“And you were JJ’s. And that hasn’t stopped him from looking like he wants to kill the new coach.”
Huh? I turn, scanning the people in the arena. It only takes a moment to spot him walking through the doors, jaw set, eyes narrowed on Ryan. He doesn’t even see me. Fuck.
“I’m not JJ’s coach anymore,” I mutter as he stalks toward the group of men.
Shit, I should probably go over there.
“Does that mean you hold a different title now?”
Savannah’s question forces me to look away from the disaster that’s about to go down. “Huh?”
“If you want to talk about JJ rather than some other man for the series, I’m game.”
“No. I’m not—” I blow out a frustrated breath. Fuck. “I’m not talking about JJ in the magazine.”
Her lips kick up on one side. “Whatever you say. But you do have to go on another date, and if it’s not with JJ—”
“Could we keep doing this if I didn’t identify the person I dated?” I hedge. “If there was someone I was interested in, that is.”
“Hmm.” She taps a red nail against her chin. “We could make that work. So long as we were getting the full story.”
Relief washes over me. Maybe it’s a possibility.
I peer over at JJ again. Ryan has a hand held out to him, and he’s glaring down at it. Yeah, this is not going to be good. If I date another man, even if only for show, things will only get worse.
Sighing, I turn back to Savannah. I need to put out this fire before it turns into an inferno. “Let me think about it.”
“Don’t think too long. We need November’s cover article ready for press by the end of next week, and the readers need at least a little information about what our New Romantics girl is up to.”
I swallow. Dammit. I’m in too deep to stop it.
This plan of mine better not blow up in my face. I don’t have a great track record in that department, though, when it comes to JJ.