23. Liv
23
LIV
I wake up wondering why I’m so warm before realizing there is a strong, muscular arm draped over me. Connor’s arm. I smile at the thought of the intimate night we just shared. I had been annoyed at first when he wouldn’t fuck me hard and fast, but he was right—lovemaking had been a really nice change of pace.
I slowly start to disentangle myself from his arms to go pee, when a bolt of nausea lances through me. I take quick, short breaths, trying to steady myself. I am not going to throw up in my own bed though I may end up doing just that if I don’t get moving.
I bolt out of bed and stumble to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. I pull my hair back from my face and pant for a moment, the room spinning around me.
“Liv?”
I glance over my shoulder to see Connor hovering in the bathroom doorway, a worried expression on his face.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I insist, even though I don’t feel fine at all. Why does this have to be happening now? I think to myself angrily. I mentally chide the baby for making my life miserable when I just want to be sexy and powerful.
“I’ll get you some water,” Connor says.
I nod then gasp and start barfing again. By the time he gets back with a cold cup of water, I think I might be feeling a little better. I manage to lean back against the bathroom wall feeling washed-out and sticky, but less like I might die.
“Are you getting sick?” Connor asks me worriedly. “Do you have a thermometer? I can check if you have a fever.”
I sigh. This secret is getting so hard to hide, and the guilt of keeping it from them is breaking my heart. But there’s no other way to handle the situation, so I steel myself and push away my doubts as I say, “No. I just think I ate too much too late last night. I can’t always get away with that, you know?”
He frowns at me but then nods.
I hear my phone ping a few times in a row and I sigh. The thought of getting up to see who it is feels overwhelming.
“I’ll bring it to you,” Connor says, vanishing into the bedroom then coming back with my phone.
I unlock it and see that it’s Travis messaging me, asking if I can come in to work a few hours early today. He claims we need to get things in order for a couple of quick spots that the higher-ups want to film today during the team’s practice session. With the greater probability that they’re heading to the playoffs, the network wants to get the first shot at coverage with the team.
“Bad news?” Connor asks me, and I startle a little. I had almost forgotten he was there. I was trying to decide if I could make it through the work day in my present condition.
“Not really,” I reply, explaining what the texts said from Travis.
“I hate that guy,” Connor mutters as he holds out his hand and helps me get up.
“Get in line,” I say ruefully, testing out my balance by looking around the bathroom and shifting my weight. Surprisingly, I feel better than I thought I would. This whole pregnancy thing is just… weird. Why doesn’t anyone talk about how strange your body feels once a tiny little person-parasite gets a hold of it? It’s all about the magical stuff, or the scary stuff.
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to doing that?” Connor asks as I step around him to start getting ready. I need to brush my teeth, I think to myself as I pull a face. My mouth tastes fuzzy and just plain bad.
“How many days do you get off when you’re not feeling well?” I ask him.
Connor snorts. “Like, zero, unless you’re seriously hurt and on the injured list.”
I nod. “Yep. Same here. Duty calls and I answer.”
A small corner of my brain wonders what I will do when I become so pregnant that there is no way of hiding my condition anymore. While the press and the players may never get days off under normal circumstances, I don’t know how maternity leave works for TV personalities because, well, it just doesn’t happen that often. I decide that’s putting the cart well before the horse for today. I just need to get to work and start prepping for the spots that need to be filmed.
“Can I help with anything?” Connor asks as I step into the closet and yank out some clothes.
“Nah,” I say as I shrug into my blazer and button my slacks. Already feeling a little snug, fuck , I think with annoyance. Another problem for future me.
“Are you going to interview all of us, do you have a plan yet?” Connor asks as I hurry into the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee, which I then dump into a travel mug with a lot of milk. If I’m only allowed one small cup of coffee a day while I’m creating life, I’m going to make sure it lasts for at least part of my morning.
“I hope they let me interview a few of you, at least,” I say. “But it’s kind of up to Travis. This is his deal with the higher-ups, I’m just along for the ride.”
“You are the show, not him,” Connor insists. “No one likes that guy.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, he’s a man and that’s pretty much enough in my line of work,” I say sarcastically.
“See you later,” I tell Connor, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before hurrying out the door.
My phone pings again as I arrive at work, and I grumble as I unlock it, expecting more annoying texts from Travis.
What I see instead makes me gasp out loud and causes me to press a hand to my mouth. I feel sick all over again, but not because of the baby this time.
The texts are from Max, and they are links to a bunch of slimy shock-value tabloids. Each one that I open reveals a new horror that makes my cheeks grow hot and my heart beat rapidly in my chest.
Analyst ‘pucking’ the players? Mysterious man carrying hockey bag seen leaving Olivia Winters’ apartment.
Winters enjoying a warm welcome from players on the Boston Blades.
“The Iceman” thaws out at Winters’ Place After the Game.
“Why?” I say to the universe at large as I look at the picture that the paparazzi caught of Connor going into my building. The pictures of Dimitri and Aiden are not as clear as the one of Connor, but it doesn’t take too much imagination to recognize them.
Max’s message couldn’t be more clear.
WTF IS THIS?
I stare at the message, feeling my heart drop. Why can’t I just have something nice for myself, just for once? Why does the universe have to make everything I care about turn into something that pains me?
Another message comes in from Max.
Look, I know the guys wouldn’t be doing anything with you. I didn’t realize how bad the press had gotten. We need to get you a bodyguard or something.
I almost wish he was mad at me for sleeping with his friends. That would be better than him trying to defend me when the negative press is actually very accurate. And it would make it easier, reason being I wouldn’t have to tell him myself. I press my forehead against the steering wheel and try to gather myself.
Finally, I lean back and tap out a quick message to my brother.
We need to talk about this. Make a game plan. I have to work, but when I’m done, I’ll call you, okay?
His reply is quick.
Okay. I’m here for you whenever you need me. Love you.
I type back, Love you too , then tuck my phone into my purse and hustle inside.
I expect to be bombarded with questions about the headlines concerning me but no one says anything. Feeling almost let down, I wander to my desk and sit, getting some of the stats and figures in order that I need to have on the tip of my tongue for the spots we’ll be filming.
A half an hour passes as I start to lose myself in my work, but then I suddenly have to pee. I grumble at the baby again for all this biological nonsense that is going on today before getting up and hurrying to the bathroom. I check my appearance in the mirror, feeling relieved when I see that I don’t look any different than I did a week ago. In fact, I’m glowing a little. I had always thought people were kidding about the whole pregnancy-glow thing, but it appears to be true.
I smile at myself for a moment. Maybe things are going to work out after all, I think as I step out of the bathroom. And run right into a solid male body.
I stumble back a bit then cringe when I see Travis staring at me with that creepy look on his face, the one that I am fast becoming accustomed to.
“Saw the news today,” he says quietly, taking a step toward me.
“The news?” I reply, pretending not to have any idea what he’s talking about even though I absolutely know what he’s referring to. I take a few steps back away from him, but he follows me like a predator.
“The scandal rags,” Travis pushes, looking straight at my breasts with intensity. “It seems they’ve found out about your dirty little secret.”
I shake my head. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” I say sharply. “Now, get out of my way before I scream.”
He tilts his head to the side, a dangerous, knowing glint in his eyes. “Will you scream like you did when all three of those players took you at the same time? That’s what’s been going on, isn’t it? You like all that extra attention, don’t you? We could arrange that, you know, if that’s your thing. I have other friends just like them.”
My skin crawls at the thought of having sex with Travis, and I swallow hard before forcing myself to lock eyes with him again. “You’re disgusting. I think you should know that I won’t tolerate this behavior toward me any longer. I’m going to HR about this.”
He laughs loudly as he presses me back against the wall even further. “I think you should be really careful about that,” he hisses, and I feel goosebumps prickle across my body. “I recognized all of them, despite the pictures not being that great and they’ve got their hoods up. You’ve been getting busy with the Hotshot, the Iceman, and the Russian Bear, am I right?”
I try not to throw up on Travis’ shoes when my heart plummets to my toes and then back up again, pounding wildly in my chest.
“See, it’s easy for me to hide the identities of the men you’ve been banging so long as we can agree to a compromise. I want what they’re getting, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask. After all, you seem like you’re the kind of girl who can handle… well, a lot. My friends and I, we’re more cultured. You’ll love the palate cleanser.”
He looks at me and licks his lips and I panic. I shove him hard and rush past him, stumbling in my heels as I hurry back to an area where there are other people working. I glance over my shoulder a couple of times to see that he’s casually leaning against the wall by the water cooler, staring at me.
I get back to my desk and try to gather myself. A lot has been thrown at me over the past few days, and adding Travis’ harassment to the mix isn’t helping.
I’m starting to realize that Travis is such a dick that I’m not sure I can keep working with him, and after the stories that came out this morning, I might not be able to hide my relationship with the boys or my pregnancy from the world much longer.
Two factors that could ultimately turn my life upside down, and sidetrack everything I’ve worked so hard for.