Chapter 23 #2
Preseason or not, I was failing. And everyone could see it.
The final buzzer felt like mercy.
Somehow we still eked out a win, but I knew I’d been more liability than asset. The guys whooped and hollered on the way off the ice, riding the high. I trailed behind them, feeling like a fraud.
As we filed off the ice, a familiar figure stepped into my path. Riley, the reporter from WMPN.
For fuck’s sake.
“Mason. Mason Callahan!” Riley thrust a microphone at my face. “Got a minute?”
I pulled up a smile, even though all I wanted was to disappear. “Sure. Fire away.”
“How’s the adjustment to Miami been so far?” she started, all professional charm.
Standard press softball. “It’s been good. The guys have been welcoming.”
Riley grinned, mischief flashing in her eyes. “And how about all the buzz around your Apex endorsement? Those billboards are certainly… eye-catching.”
“Apex Gear is all about rising to the challenge, and that’s a philosophy I can get behind, on and off the ice.” I delivered the company line with a tight smile. “If you’ll excuse me—”
I tried to step around her, but Riley slid with me.
“So, care to comment on the photos circulating online of your private bedroom? The sex dungeon. This is your chance to set the record straight, or disavow—”
My stomach dropped. How the hell did she know already? “I… what photos?” I stammered, mouth suddenly dry.
“Oh, you know.” Riley’s faux innocence was almost impressive. “The stripper pole. The restraints. Quite the dungeon you’ve got there, Callahan.”
Before I could formulate a response, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “Interview’s over,” King’s voice rumbled behind me.
Riley opened her mouth to protest, and King leveled her with a stare that should’ve ended it. The way she held his gaze said this wasn’t their first round. “I said it’s over.” He steered me past her.
King didn’t let it go as we kept walking. “That was out of line, Riley, and you know it.”
“I’m doing my job,” she shot back, arms folding tight. “It’s blowing up online. Fans want to know.”
King’s voice went colder. “Stay in your lane, Compton. Focus on the game.” He threw her a disdainful look over his shoulder as we stepped out of sight.
The noise fell away in a quiet corridor.
“Thanks.” I gave King a tight nod. “I didn’t see that coming.”
King angled me toward Coach Murray’s office. “He wants to see you. Catch you later.”
I drew in a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in, Callahan,” Coach’s gruff voice called.
My stomach churned as I stepped inside. Coach sat behind his desk, expression stern, fatigue etched in the lines around his eyes.
“Sit,” he commanded, gesturing to the chair across from him.
I sank into it, my knee bouncing with nervous energy.
“Listen, son,” he began, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this. You looked about as focused as a squirrel at a nut convention.”
“Sir,” I started, but he waved me off.
“Your performance today? Swiss cheese, Callahan. More holes than a screen door in a hurricane.” His eyes locked on mine. “And now I’ve got reporters sniffing around about some kinky photos? Christ on a cracker, son. You’re bringing more heat than a jalapeno in a sauna.”
I winced, because he wasn’t wrong. “Coach, I’m sorry. Those photos, it was a misunderstanding with my decorator. I don’t know how they got out…”
Coach Murray exhaled and dragged a hand down his face. “Mason, listen. You need to get your shit together. Fast. Because in this game, you can’t afford to let your personal life become a penalty box you can’t skate out of.”
My throat tightened. “Yes, Coach. I understand.”
Something in my face must have given me away, because his expression softened. “Look, Callahan. You’re a hell of a player, and the team needs you. But you’ve got to get your head on straight. No more distractions. Understood?”
“Won’t happen again.” I kept my face neutral, even though everything in me was knotted up.
“Good.” Coach Murray leaned back. “Now go home and get some rest. We’ll deal with the fallout in the morning.”
As I stood, Coach’s voice stopped me. “And Mason. Remember, it’s not about how many times you fall on your ass. It’s about how many times you get back up and keep skating. Or… something like that. That one’s Oprah, I think.”
I bit back a laugh and nodded like he’d given me the meaning of life. “Got it, Coach. Thanks.”
The hallway outside his office was empty and too quiet. My skates echoed on the floor as I headed back, the weight of what was waiting settling heavy in my gut. Coach had been calmer than I deserved, but this was still going to cause all kinds of problems for me.
A media storm was brewing, and I was standing in the center of it. My private life was about to become very, very public, and I had no idea how to stop it.
“Yo, Callahan!” Sawyer’s booming voice snapped me out of it. He and a few of the guys were huddled near the locker room. “You coming to the Sin Bin or what?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m not in the mood—”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Brody cut in, shaking his head. “First-game tradition, bud. Skip out and we’ll be cursed worse than San Jose.”
A laugh slipped out. “Pretty sure that’s impossible, eh?”
Hunter stepped forward. “Move it, Callahan. We’ll see you there.”
The Sin Bin was already in full swing when I arrived, the team’s laughter rolling out from the back like they owned the place. The guys had our usual tables, already corralled in the same corner.
“Callahan’s here. Let’s get the Fusion Intrusions done. Some of us need our beauty sleep,” King announced, lifting his shot glass.
I grabbed a shot and clinked it in with the rest.
Sawyer raised his. “To our first win, even though it doesn’t count. May there be many more.”
“Cheers,” everyone yelled, and the shots disappeared.
I tossed mine back before sliding into the booth next to Hunter.
Sawyer wore a shit-eating grin. “Tell me, Callahan. Is that sex dungeon of yours open for business? Asking for a friend.”
Cade leaned in, eyes bright. “Sex dungeon? What did I miss?”
A phone appeared, then another. The guys crowded in, their snickering getting louder with every swipe.
Groaning, I sank lower in my seat. “Come on. It’s not what you think.”
Brody whistled at the photos. “Looks like someone’s got some serious extracurriculars.”
“It was a miscommunication with my decorator,” I said, and I hated how defensive it sounded.
“Sure, sure.” Dex smirked, amusement flashing in his eyes. “And those shackles on the wall were for hanging coats, right?”
“You guys are killing me,” I grumbled, though a laugh threatened anyway. Their razzing was light, familiar. A distraction from the weight sitting in my chest. “It’s just a—”
“Right. Just a little room filled with whips and chains,” Roman cut in, eyebrows waggling.
“Seriously, though,” Dex said, passing his phone across the table. The gossip site filled the screen. “What’s with this stuff, man? You actually into bondage or what?”
“Guys.” I kept my voice steady on purpose. “It really was a mix-up. Just some… decor choices gone wrong.” Even as I said it, I winced at how weak and pathetic it sounded.
“Yeah, right. Like you accidentally buy a gimp mask,” Sawyer added, shaking his head like he was grieving my innocence.
The floodgates opened.
Hunter nudged me with his elbow. “So, Callahan, do you make all your dates sign a waiver before entering the Chamber of Secrets?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”
“Who knew Captain Underpants had a secret life as a dungeon master?” Dex leaned back with a cocky grin. “Should we call you Sir Underpants now?”
The guys lost it, and I forced a weak chuckle.
“Fellas.” King’s voice carried a warning edge. “Ease up. Give Callahan a break and focus on celebrating the win.”
The conversation shifted, and I shot King a grateful look. I tried to follow it, to be present, but my brain kept circling the same ugly question.
Where did those photos come from?
Gideon? The idea made my stomach turn. Maybe he’d leaked them to be funny. As a prank. No. He’d never torch my career for a joke, and I’d seen the panic in his eyes when he told me. It wasn’t Gid. I trusted the guy with my life.
Which left one other person with access to my condo.
Lila.
God. The way her blue eyes lit when she laughed. The way her hair caught the sun. The warmth in her that made me want to believe in things I didn’t usually believe in. The suspicion wouldn’t fit, no matter how I twisted it.
Could it have been someone at her company? Her boss? Someone who had a key, a reason, a grudge?
King slid in beside me, his brow drawn tight.
“You okay, Callahan?” he asked, voice low.
“Yeah. Just… thinking.” I tried to shrug it off, but my chest felt packed with wet sand. “I can’t shake this feeling someone close to me did it. Someone I trusted.”
King nodded once, thoughtful. “I get it. But don’t let it eat you alive. This’ll blow over. And this team has your back. We joke, sure, but when it matters, we’d suit up and go to war for each other. Don’t doubt that.”
“Thanks, man.” I slapped him on the shoulder and stood. “I’m gonna head out, boys.”
A chorus of protests went up, but I waved them off. “Early practice tomorrow. I need sleep.”
Outside the Sin Bin, the Miami night hit my face, cool and damp. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Three missed calls from Gideon, plus a text from Lila.
I couldn’t deal with it. Not tonight. That was tomorrow’s problem.