BETTSY
“What the hell is going on?” Hutch says, bursting through the door as soon as I release the deadbolt. “You never—” He stops in his tracks and looks around the entrance hall, eyes landing on the bags.
Ellie’s bags.
“You’ve got a girl here?” he says. “I thought you were abstaining? No sex before marriage and all that crap.” He moves into our apartment and tosses his keys onto the worktop before turning back towards me.
I don’t even know what to say to him. Because, like always, I succumbed to temptation and all it took was a kiss.
A single kiss that had my insides burning with want—no, need.
I was like a man possessed, and I guess that’s what no sex does to you.
That and the fact that I’ve been lusting over her since I was a teenager.
She was worth every single second of the wait.
And now Hutch is robbing me of that blissful post-sex closeness where you just be.
I step towards my bedroom, depositing the bags inside my room before shutting the door. Then I brace myself as I face Hutch.
“Relax,” I say. “It’s just a friend. She was upset and I gave her a cuddle. We didn’t do anything.”
I’m lying to save face, but the truth is, I don’t know if Ellie meant for things to escalate in the way they did.
I don’t know how she’s feeling. Perhaps she’ll take her shower and decide we need to pretend it never happened.
And since I know I won’t be able to face the rejection, I decide not to bring it up.
Ever. It’s probably better living in this sweet state of ignorance.
“Did you have sex on our sofa?” Hutch’s jaw hits the floor as he spots the comforter .
My cheeks burn hot.
“No,” I say. “I told you … we just cuddled.”
I suppose lying also saves Ellie the embarrassment. Because she’ll come out here at some point and I know what Hutch is like—he can’t leave anything to rest.
“Why don’t I believe you?” he grins, revelling in my circumstance.
“Mate.”
“Oh, well, sorry.” He holds his hands up. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that it was Rochelle you were comforting.” I wince at the sound of her name and Hutch shakes his head. “It wasn’t … was it?”
“No. God, no.” I fold my arms, looking down at the floor, letting an extended silence fall between us. There’s only the sound of running water in the distance.
But it’s Hutch who eventually breaks the quiet. He steps closer and drops his voice to a tone of concern.
“What’s going on, Betts?”
I look up, meeting his eyes, and I realise it’s time to come clean. It’s time to tell him everything. The story so far, if you will, and considering Ellie’s going to be staying here for a few days, I don’t think it’s something I’ll be able to carry on hiding.
I step past him into the kitchen and open the store cupboard, reaching for the first bottle I can find, then I grab two glasses from the draining board and flip them over, pouring a measure of whisky into each.
“Bettsy?” Hutch says, looking between me and the glasses, eyes quick, shoulders tense.
“I think you need a drink when you hear this,” I say. “And I need a drink because—well, this is my life, after all.”
Hutch studies me for a moment longer. Then, to my relief, he nods and takes a seat on the other side of the counter, perching on a bar stool and reaching for one of the glasses.
“I take it this isn’t about the game?” he asks .
I shake my head, taking a drink, trying to compose my thoughts. Then there’s nothing left to do but tell him.
“Who knows?” Hutch says, knocking back another mouthful of whisky. “Out of our lot. Who knows?”
I swallow. My throat is already dry from the talking and the burn from the whisky, but I answer him anyway, telling him how Danny came to find out.
“And I think I’m going to have to tell everyone else soon, though I don’t know how to play it.” I run my hands through my hair, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve fucked up. Massively. I’ve fucked up, mate.”
“Well, yeah. Because people talk. I’m genuinely surprised that you haven’t had a call from Coach Harris yet.”
The sickness I felt earlier comes back. Because Hutch is right. People talk and it’s a small world in British Hockey. Everyone knows everyone, or at least someone else who knows that someone. It’s tiny and word spreads pretty quick.
“But let me get this straight. He thinks you’re married. But you may actually be married … but Ellie doesn’t want to go along with being married?”
I open my mouth to reply when I catch Ellie on the edge of my vision. She’s standing on the threshold of the kitchen wearing an oversized jumper—a relaxed look. A look that has me wanting to snuggle up on the sofa with her and watch crappy TV.
She looks perfect.
She meets my eye and smiles.
“Ellie does want to go along with being married,” she says.
And there’s a squeeze in my chest; it’s unmistakable. It’s everything.
Hutch’s attention shifts from me to Ellie, and he gapes .
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” she says.
But Hutch simply bursts out laughing and I flash him the mother of all death stares.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no way she is your wife,” he says.
“I—”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snap.
“I’m just saying she’s too pretty for you. C’mon, Betts, you said so yourself—you’re like a?—”
“Shut it,” I say. “God, you’re such a dick at times.”
But he ignores me, swivelling on the barstool so he’s facing Ellie entirely, a grin on his face the size of the moon.
“I’m Paul Hutchinson,” he says. “The guys call me Hutch. Nice to meet you.”
“Hey,” Ellie says, looking between Hutch and me, “It’s nice to meet you too.”
“So,” Hutch says, leaning back so his elbows rest on the counter. “How much is he paying you?”
I’m quick off the mark, grabbing a tea-towel and whipping him across the biceps of his left arm.
“Shut up,” I say. “That’s enough.”
“Okay, okay,” Hutch says. “But in all seriousness, I don’t see how this is going to work, realistically.
” He turns back to me. “People have seen you out and about—they’ll know this isn’t real.
” He wags his eyebrows, and I know exactly what he’s saying.
People have seen me with other women. Rochelle, being the main offender.
But Ellie surprises me. She moves in closer before she says, “Who says it isn’t real?”
Hutch’s expression drops as he stares at her.
“I’ve been thinking about it, actually,” Ellie says, and I cast a look in her direction, hopeful that she’s going to give me a lifeline out of the hole I’ve dug myself.
“I think we tell people we’re childhood sweethearts who lost our way for a while but found each other again.
Now we’re committed to giving it a go since we both realise we want the same things in life. ” My eyes widen; that’s a decent idea.
“I guess it’s a good thing you got picked over Rick, as he’ll probably wonder why I didn’t mention you to him,” Ellie says.
I almost hear Hutch’s jaw hit the floor.
“Wait—Rick. As in Rick Langdon? Your new pairing? What’s he got to do with this?”
I swallow, ignoring his question as I keep my eyes on Ellie, watching her hands run through her damp hair.
I want to run my hands through her hair.
“New pairing?” She says, looking at me. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Yeah, I’m not overly excited about it—hey, Hutch, how long do you think I’ll have to suffer before Coach shifts us around?”
He shakes his head. “That’s the least of your worries. God, you’re in a fucking mess, Betts.”
“I know,” I growl, reaching for the bottle of whisky before stopping myself.
“I’m not sure your plan is going to work,” Hutch says.
“Because who gets married that quickly? Though … I think people will buy it. Because if there’s any one of us who’d get married on a whim, it’d be you.
Hands down. People would definitely believe that.
Maybe not Johnny, but at least you have Kelly on your side there—shit, does your sister know? ”
God, this keeps getting worse. Because of course I’ll have to tell my sister. And I know she’ll probably force me to tell my mam—assuming she doesn’t already know. Although, I am supposed to be telling her anyway and—fuck. This is a complete nightmare.
“I told you the score,” I say to Hutch. “Kelly doesn’t know.” I bury my head in my hands before looking back towards Ellie. “Kitch, this is?—”
“Don’t worry,” she says, cutting me off. “We just need to work out a timeline. Besides, what we’re doing shouldn’t be anyone else’s business. All you need to say is that our relationship is private, and you want to keep it that way.”
Okay, well, that makes sense. She’s smart, and that’s exactly what I need in this situation. Someone with their head on straight.
“Or…” Hutch butts in, “now hear me out … you could tell Coach you lied and forfeit your spot.” His voice is playful, but I know there’s a small speck of realism in there. “Maybe he’ll take pity on you, with all that stuff online. Just like that ‘justice for Bettsy’ person.”
“He’s absolutely not giving up his spot,” Ellie says.
“Well, maybe?—”
“Stop it. Please, Hutch,” I say and his eyes meet mine, the desperation I’m feeling hitting him square in the chest as he nods.
“Okay, I won’t say anything. You know that. And neither will Danny. So just keep it that way. Everyone else, well, they can think it’s legit.”
But I know there’s no way in hell I can lie to Johnny. And it’s his reaction that I’m worried about the most.