Chapter 11 Delaney
DELANEY
Once I learn how to argue and stand up for myself without crying, it’s over for all you bitches.
—Delaney’s Secret Thoughts
“Oh my God.” Seriously, I might as well stomp my damn foot while I’m at it. “Remind me why you’re all here?”
“To keep you calm.” Kaleigh looks at me through the reflection in the bathroom mirror, a curling wand in one hand and a long chunk of my hair in the other. “And to make you look so hot, your husband-to-be drops the ball.”
“No,” Ashton and Lexie both yell while I shake my head.
“He doesn’t typically touch the ball,” I argue and add a little setting powder to the abundance of makeup I had to use to cover the black eye from hell. Seriously, I think the one under my right eye might have taken up permanent residence on my face. “And why would I need to look hot for him?”
“You don’t,” Ashton declares from my bedroom. “But you know you’re going to be photographed today. We’re here to make sure you’re comfortable and confident.”
“And to keep all the assholes away,” Lexie adds from somewhere near Ashton.
“Should have brought Dillan for that,” Kaleigh mutters, curling the last strand of hair. “Would you stand still? I’m almost done.”
I freeze and watch her behind me as she brushes out the curls and pulls the sides back in a pink ribbon. “I could have done this myself.”
“You could have.” With quick fingers, she ties the ribbon in a bow and smiles as she fluffs my hair around my shoulders. “But why would you when you have us now?”
She rests her chin on my shoulder and leans her head against mine. “I should have gone home with you that night, Lane. If I hadn’t been dancing—”
“No. Don’t.” I tip my head to hers and watch her in our reflection. “Don’t do that. It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. It’s Roger Dennings’s fault. Only him.”
Another thing, if I keep saying it, I might finally start believing.
“You know . . .” she whispers. “I might want to be as strong as you when I grow up.”
“Yeah well, I might want to be as carefree and confident as you. Put us together, and you’d have one hell of a woman.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Her smile is forced, but I don’t call her on it. “Are you ready for the crazy train?”
“The what?” Because that sounds awful.
“Oh, Lane. If you thought the game last week was madness, how do you think it’s going to be when you’re walking in as Ryker Beneventi’s fiancée?”
So much for staying calm.
Ithought I knew what to expect—or at least to expect some form of chaos.
But there was no way to prepare for this level of madness.
The stadium looms in front of us, lit up against the darkening sky. Fans flood toward the gates in a sea of black and gold Kings jerseys, chanting and laughing as our driver stops in front of the building. It gives me hope we’ll be able to blend in and slip by unnoticed until we get to our seats.
The second we step foot outside the SUV, though, I realize how naive that thinking was.
The noise hits me first. A wall of sound that rattles my chest and spikes my pulse. My name is being called from every possible direction.
Holy shit, they know my name.
“This is insane,” I whisper as Ashton takes my hand, and the girls and I all close ranks, huddling together as someone from the Kings organization ushers us through the crowd. “Is it always like this?” I’m not sure why I bother asking. I know the answer.
It wasn’t like this last week.
It wasn’t like this for Lexie and Ashton.
And it wasn’t like this when we came to see that first game of the season a few weeks ago either. This madness is because of everything that’s happening. This is what Olivia is talking about. This is what we’ve somehow managed to avoid this week.
Lexie leans into me. “Let’s drop preggo and Kaleigh off with my family and then you and I can make our way down to the Kingston suite to say a quick hi.”
I look at my sister waddling down the concourse and know Lexie’s right but wish I could just hide in the Sinclairs’ suite instead.
It’s crazy to me how interconnected these families are.
I mean, this whole town is like a giant murder board with the way they know each other, or work together, or have family members married to each other.
I’m still not sure I’ve got it all right, and I’m really not sure I’m ready to test my knowledge with the Kingstons. Even if I know I should.
As if reading my mind, Lexie links her arm through mine. “We’ll make it quick. And I’m pretty sure Caitlin will be there. She asked if you were coming.”
“Caitlin from the dress shop?” I ask, remembering Ryker’s cousin. “Wait. Her husband plays for the team too, right?”
“He’s one of the captains. He’s my uncle too,” Lexie smiles, and my head explodes.
“Wait. Let me make sure I’m following this.” I stop as Kaleigh and Ashton walk into the Sinclairs’ suite. A thrum of excitement follows out into the hall. Not nearly as chaotic as downstairs. “You’re married to Caitlin’s brother.”
“Yup,” her eyes light up. “Her baby brother. Dillan is engaged to her other younger brother.”
“And her oldest brother is married to—”
“A princess,” she finishes for me.
A princess. Right. No pressure.
“And Caitlin is married to your—”
“Uncle,” Lexie giggles. “But he’s only a few years older than me. My family is a little . . . complicated.”
“Yeah,” I agree, feeling the anxiety creeping back in. “In a whole different way than mine.”
“Come on.” She drags me down the hall, past a few security guards because I guess that’s what you get in the owner’s suite. How the hell is this my life? “It won’t be that bad.”
Yeah. Sure it won’t.
She lied. It’s worse.
The Sinclair suite had a happy buzzing to it. It’s been fun and lowkey every time I’ve been in it. There’s room to breathe. They eat, sleep, and breathe football, but it’s manageable. But this . . . Wow. I’m not sure there’re words to describe this.
Not necessarily louder, but . . . fuller.
There’s wall-to-wall people everywhere.
Ryker’s people.
His family.
“Delaney,” his mom calls out from a high-top table, where she stands with two other women. All three equally beautiful.
“That’s Scarlet Kingston St. James and Amelia Beneventi with Lenny. Olivia and Caitlin’s moms,” Lexie whispers before she feeds me to the sharks and tugs me along with her. She hugs Amelia, who I’m just realizing is her mother-in-law as Lenny wraps an arm around me.
Her touch is light as she pulls me in. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart?
No one has called me that since my mom died.
“I’m okay,” I croak as emotions threaten to choke me. With each okay I give, I think I might be getting a tiny bit closer to believing it.
“Well, you look amazing.” She pulls back and takes me in from top to bottom, lingering on my pink Converse sneakers. “Love the shoes.”
I glance down at myself.
Ryker’s jersey. His name. His number.
His ring catching the light every time I move my hand.
The beautiful woman with dark hair next to Lenny tsks, although she does it with a touch of a smile. “I don’t know, Len. That boy of yours is awfully tall.” She turns and sets her sights on me again. “You may need to consider heels if you’re going to be photographed together.”
Oh, she’s definitely Olivia’s mom.
“I’m not the greatest in heels,” I admit sheepishly, heat growing on my cheeks.
“She’s wearing them for the wedding though.” Caitlin hip-bumps me gently, joining us. “They came in, by the way. You should stop by tomorrow to pick them up, then wear them around your apartment to break them in.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Delaney,” Lexie’s mother-in-law adds. “Have you done your cake tasting yet?”
A little girl flies by us, squealing, with a boy chasing behind her, and Caitlin groans. “Stop chasing your sister.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Excuse me.” Then she’s off, chasing the toddlers.
“No,” Lexie jumps in as I drown in the chaos. “We’re doing that next week, right, Lane?”
“Right. Next week.” It’s written on my calendar . . . somewhere.
“Hey.” Another voice. Though, this one I know.
Olivia joins us. A glass of red wine in her hand and a purse that would pay off my car on her arm.
And now that she’s standing next to her mother, I see the resemblance.
My goodness, this family is full of beautiful people. “How was the media downstairs?”
Wait—what?
Is she talking to me?
Lexie raises her eyes and waits.
Shit. I guess she is talking to me.
“Umm . . . it was kind of crazy.” The women nod, murmuring their agreement. “I guess it was just a bit more than I expected.”
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Olivia warns. “The frenzy is just starting. You’re trending.”
“I’m what?” I look over Olivia’s shoulder and smile when I see that little girl from earlier smush a cupcake in her brother’s face. Oh, that one is definitely Caitlin’s.
“Trending, Lane.” Lexie’s eyes are glued to her phone.
“Shit. You and Ryker.” She turns the phone to face me, and there’s a video of me walking in.
They slow-mo zoom in on the back of my jersey, focusing on the name and number, then down to the ring on my finger.
“Holy shit. You’ve gotten over a million views already. ”
“What?” I don’t understand. “No. That was—that can’t be right. That was only thirty minutes ago.”
“Welcome to the family.” Olivia holds up her glass, and the women at the table all tap theirs to hers. “Deep breaths, sweetie. It will calm down before next season.”
Next season . . .