Chapter 61 Cole
COLE
As much as I want to stay locked in our little slice of heaven together for the foreseeable future, real life continues to call outside.
I’ve ignored every single call and message on my cell since the shit hit the fan, and I know that the minute I step foot into the arena, it’s going to bite me in the ass. Or at least, Hailee will. Metaphorically, of course.
With Freya’s arms hooked around my neck and her body pressed against mine, I hold her tighter and breathe her in, wishing I could put her in my pocket and take her with me.
“You need to go,” she tells me, although she doesn’t seem overly happy about it.
My heart beats a little harder at the knowledge that she wants me to stay with her.
“I know,” I confess.
“I’ll be okay,” she promises. “I’m not going to go anywhere.”
I nod, refusing to move my face from the crook of her neck.
The thought of her leaving and getting swallowed up by the press waiting outside is terrifying.
It’s her worst nightmare come to life, and I feel guilty as hell that I’ve helped play a part in it.
If it weren’t for me, no one would know who she was. They wouldn’t want to make a story out of her.
I grit my teeth, wishing there was something I could do to make it all go away. But the truth is, time is really the only thing we’ve got.
Sure, we might have been yesterday’s hot news. But the media moves quickly. They’ll be focused on someone else soon.
I don’t doubt that Hailee has a plan, one that I’m sure she’s going to bombard me with the second I arrive.
Something tells me that she’s going to want us to make some kind of announcement, to reveal our relationship, to kill the gossip.
But while she may be right, the thought of putting our budding relationship out on the internet like that for everyone and their wife to have an opinion about… well, it’s fucking terrifying.
I may live a part of my life in front of the world, but it’s only a small part. The rest, I keep behind closed doors, and now, Freya is a part of that too. I want to protect her with everything I am. But I fear I’m not going to be able to.
And what if she hates what life with me is really like? What if being front-page news, even if just for a few days, reminds her of a life she tried to leave behind? What if she changes her mind?
What if she leaves me?
Everyone else has.
Why shouldn’t she?
“I’ll be right here when you get back later,” she says softly, as if she can read my mind and knows exactly what I need to hear. “I promise.”
Pulling back from her neck, I stare down at her.
Her hands slide around my face, cupping my jaw firmly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she repeats. “Unless you need me. If you need me, then I’ll be in my car and at the arena before you know it.”
I blink, emotion burning the backs of my eyes.
Is this what it feels like? To have someone in your life who really cares?
My heart pounds as I stare down at her, my feelings growing faster than I can control.
It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating. It’s…it’s everything.
No, she is everything.
Freya.
My Freya.
Leaning forward, I rest my brow against hers, for the first time ever embracing how I’m feeling and allowing her to see it instead of running and hiding.
For so many years, showing emotion meant letting people see me, see what hurts me, or more so, how they could hurt me.
But with Freya, it no longer feels like that. She isn’t going to use this against me.
A laugh bubbles out of her as I continue loitering. “You really need to go,” she urges, but she makes no move to step away or attempt to shove me in the direction I should be moving.
I swallow thickly as I prepare to walk away. “When the playoffs are over, we’re spending the entire summer together.”
“Okay,” she breathes.
“You name the places you want to go, and we’ll go. Anywhere, Freya. I’ll make it happen.”
“What if I just want to stay here with you?”
All the air rushes from my lungs.
I tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll stay right here. I just…I need to be with you.”
“You’re gonna need the rest after winning the Stanley Cup,” she says confidently.
This isn’t my first venture into the playoffs. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t more hopeful this time.
I nod. As much as I want it, I refuse to think it could be possible. We still have—hopefully—a lot of games ahead of us, and a lot of work to do.
“We’ll see,” I mutter.
“Well, whatever happens. I’ll be there watching.” I light up at the thought.
My heart swells in my chest.
“I never have anyone come to games for me. You have no idea how it feels knowing that you’re there, cheering me on.
I used to watch the others go to their families after a game, and I thought I was okay without it.
It isn’t until you started being there, eyes on the door, waiting for me to appear, that I realized just how okay I wasn’t with it. ”
“Cole,” she whispers, her hands sliding down to my chest, no doubt feeling just how hard my heart is beating beneath my ribs.
“Thank you, Freya. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for being there, for supporting me, for becoming my family.”
She swallows thickly, her eyes as full of unshed tears as mine. She nods, her bottom lip trembling.
“Italy,” she suddenly blurts. “I really want to go to Italy.”
I smile. “Then we’ll go to Italy, Whirlwind.”
My lips meet hers in a kiss that sends fire shooting through my veins.
I’m desperate to say fuck it and carry her back to my bed.
But I can’t.
We have three games left in the regular season. I have to be at training. I have to be focused.
Reluctantly, I put her down and force myself to take a step back.
“You need me, you call me.”
“Go and be the league’s best goalie. I’m good here. Promise.”
I comb my fingers through my hair, feeling like I’m being ripped in two.
I want to be here. But I need to be there.
“Go, Handsy.” She laughs.
“Fuck. Yeah. I’m going. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later. Message me when you’re leaving the arena.”
With my agreement ringing through the air, I swipe my duffel bag from the hallway floor and march out of the apartment before I change my mind.
I go straight to the parking garage and climb into my car. Unease sits heavily in my stomach about what I’m going to find in front of my building.
Melvin has kept us up to date about the size of the crowd hoping to get a glimpse of us yesterday.
Surely, they’ll have gotten bored. Surely, someone of way more importance has done something that requires all the journalists to turn their attention to them.
But I quickly discover that it doesn’t seem to have happened; because the instant I emerge from the parking garage, they’re waiting for me.
People crowd around my car as I attempt to see if I can pull onto the road, and cameras flash in my eyes.
They’re all shouting things at me, but thankfully, I can’t hear them over the engine, my music, and my racing heart.
Hoping that it’s safe to go, I press my foot to the gas and wheelspin out of the garage, leaving them with nothing but the back of my car to photograph.
My hands are still trembling by the time I get to the arena, frustration coursing through my veins.
I fucking hate that Freya is being subjected to this. I know she said she didn’t have plans to go anywhere today. But she should have the option. If she wanted to go for a walk and chat with some dogs, then she should be able to without being worried about being followed.
Fuck. I wish I had punched that asshole last night.
He’s done this, and I bet he’s grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Fucking asshole.
The second I’m out of the car, I pull my cell from my pocket and begin messaging Freya to let her know I got here and to warn her about the crowd outside the apartment.
I’m barely inside when a familiar voice hits my ears.
“Ah, so your cell does work,” Hailee points out.
Dragging my eyes from my message, I find her standing a few feet away with her hands on her hips and a fierce expression on her face.
My stomach knots.
There aren’t many people I’m intimidated by in this world, but Hailee is up there. Which is bizarre, because she’s barely five feet, but man, she is terrifying. Doesn’t stop me from giving her a little shit, though. “Apparently so. The fucking thing won’t stop ringing.”
“Funny that. Maybe it’s because I’ve been calling you.”
“Is this important? I’ve got a session I need to get to.”
“No, you don’t, I’ve postponed it. Let’s go, Hansley.”
She spins on her heels and begins marching away.
A smirk pulls at my lips as I obediently take off behind her, but before I get too far, another set of footsteps races up behind me.
“Hey, is everything okay? Is Freya okay?” Monroe asks.
I look over at our rookie, my smile growing.
“Everything is great, thank you.”
A high-pitched laugh erupts from the woman I’m following.
“Something wrong, Hails?”
She spins around again and holds my eyes. If she notices that Monroe is standing right beside me, she doesn’t show it.
“You’re lucky I love my job,” she states.
“Hi, Hailee,” Monroe sings.
She glances at him.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Um…y-yeah. Parker…I’ve got Parker.”
Hailee’s eyes widen, silently telling him to disappear.
“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you both later. Send my love to Freya,” he shoots over his shoulder before he races around the corner.
“Let’s go,” she demands.
Like an obedient puppy, I follow along behind her, into the elevator, and then to her office.
Her assistant smiles, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. I can only assume that she’s found herself on the wrong end of her boss as well this morning.
“Take a seat,” Hailee instructs as she walks around her desk and drops into her seat. “Rowan Conaway wants attention.”
I scoff. “No shit.”
“So we’re not going to give him any.”
“Sounds perfect. Did you need me for anything else, or…”
My fingers curl around the arms of the seat, and I push to stand, but the second Hailee narrows her eyes at me, I lower my ass back down.
She’s silent for a few seconds before her shoulders relax and she sighs.
“Look, I know that neither of you wants media attention, but unfortunately, you’ve got it.
As much as you might hate to hear this, Rowan and the Rusty Trinkets are massive right now.
And you, Cole Hansley, are just as hot. It’s going to be inescapable.
While it draws him and his new album attention, he’ll keep the stories coming. He—”
Fire shoots through my veins. I fucking hate that he’s dragging Freya into this.
He sent her away.
She’s put him behind her.
He has no right to use us as pawns in his games.
“This is bullshit,” I snap. “Can’t you shut it all down?”
A humorless laugh erupts from Hailee. “Trust me, if I could, I would. I’m doing everything I can to minimize the damage. But this isn’t going to disappear overnight. We need to figure out where we go from here.”
“Then you should be talking to Freya, not me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her from all of this.”
Hailee smiles softly at me from across the table before she nods once, as if my statement just told her everything she needs to know.