Chapter 16 Jake
JAKE
A summons to Coach’s room in the middle of a road trip never means good news. We’ve barely checked into a new city.
There’s a game tonight.
A few hours of rest is all we’re supposed to get before warmups. Instead, I’m riding the elevator up with a knot sitting under my ribs.
The door is already cracked, propped open with a man’s large tennis shoe, when I reach it.
Inside, Carl stands by the window with his arms folded. Ash leans against the dresser, jaw working.
Tish sits at the table with an iPad in front of her. Seeing the three of them together flips the knot tighter.
This isn’t a systems talk or a quick video review.
“Close it and grab a seat,” Carl says. I toe the shoe out of the way then close the door and walk over to the table.
The chair across from Tish scrapes as I pull it out. She won’t quite meet my eyes. That tells me more than the grim set of Ash’s mouth.
Carl doesn’t waste time. “Tish overheard something yesterday at the rink. Two women were talking in the bathroom about you. The exact words were that you got a girl pregnant and you won’t take care of the baby.”
“From player to deadbeat daddy,” Ash quips.
I shoot a glare his way. Ash just shrugs his shoulders. “That’s not true.”
“We know,” Ash says, voice even. “But the story’s moving.”
Tish slides the iPad across the table and keeps her hand on the edge so it doesn’t fall. “I needed to see how far it traveled, so I ran a quick listener poll and pulled a sentiment snapshot. It’s not scientific, but it’s big enough to matter.”
The chart is simple and brutal. A green line drops over twenty points in twenty-four hours. A red line climbs to meet it.
“What am I looking at?” I ask, though I have an idea.
“Favorables for you, last week to this morning,” she says, steady but soft.
“The steep part is last night after the clip went around and a couple of local blogs repeated the rumor. It’s worse among women eighteen to thirty-four, which is a big chunk of our fans.
Men are holding, but the comments shift is ugly there, too. ”
Carl taps a knuckle on the table. “You pull fans in two ways, Jake. Women want to see you. Men want to see you put someone through the glass. When half of that base turns on you, our gate turns with it.”
Air leaves my chest and takes a second to come back. “That rumor isn’t true. I never dated Krista. I only talked to her that one time, at the party. Where I turned her down. I didn’t sleep with her.”
Tish keeps it steady. “We know. The lawyers are already on it. They sent letters to save any evidence and to stop the false posts. Her lawyer agreed to a court-ordered paternity test as soon as a judge signs off.”
“So we say that to the press,” I answer. “Let legal handle the rest.”
Carl nods. “They are handling it. But lawsuits and injunctions pull more attention. We’ll use them if we have to, just not as our first move. They won’t fix tonight. A statement helps but it doesn’t change how people feel, at least not fast enough.”
“So what does?” I ask.
“Show them who you are,” he says. “Give people a clear reason not to believe it. Proof of character.”
“What about an interview?” The idea tastes like chalk, but I throw it out anyway. “Sit down with someone and tell them exactly what you just heard. Put it on the record.”
Ash shakes his head. “It makes you look defensive. Also invites questions we don’t control.”
Tish folds her hands on the table. “There’s a clean statement drafted for socials and the team site. We can push it after morning skate. It sets the record without feeding the fire.”
The room goes quiet long enough for the radiator to click on.
Out on the street, a siren wails and fades.
The iPad screen dims between us and throws my reflection back at me.
Carl glances at Ash, then at Tish, and returns to me. “You need a reason for people to decide you’re the man they want to believe you are.”
The knot under my ribs tightens again. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning the playboy storyline is easy to sell when you help it along,” Carl says, no judgment in his tone. He’s just relating the facts. “You’ve been seen leaving with fans. You’ve been photographed. No laws broken. No rules, technically. But patterns write headlines for you.”
“That’s my life,” I say before I can dress it up. “I don’t owe strangers the details. I show up. I work. I hit clean. I sign for kids. That’s the job.”
“It’s also a business,” Ash says, not unkindly. “And the business is hurting.”
Tish finally looks up.
Her eyes are steady, but the worry in them is real.
This is her ass on the line, too. As PR, it’s her job to get in front of this kind of shit. “We can change the story without lying. We can show a different side. Something grounded. Something steady.”
My pulse shifts from angry to cautious. Steady is not a word anyone uses for me. Steady is a word I’ve stayed away from on purpose.
“What are you actually asking me to do?” The question comes out flat.
Carl doesn’t blink. “Stop feeding the machine. No more taking home whoever twitches their ass at you. For the meantime, you date one person. Publicly. Consistently. Be seen showing up. Be seen going home. Give people a picture that contradicts the rumor without us having to say a word.”
A frown pulls at my mouth before I can stop it. “So, fake a relationship?”
“Or have one,” Ash says. “But yes. A steady relationship. Real is better. Appearances still count.”
Tish studies the tabletop like the veneer just got interesting. A flush rises up her throat. That reaction snaps a tight line inside my chest.
“Who?” I ask, dread filling my veins.
Carl doesn’t make me wait. “I already have someone in mind. Someone the team trusts. Someone who knows the rules of the job and won’t add chaos. If she agrees.”
The room tilts a degree, like the ice when a skate edge catches a rut.
Carl turns to Tish. “How ‘bout it, Trisha? Are you up for the task?”
The words land like a puck off the bar—loud, clean, impossible to ignore.
Tish’s head snaps up. Ash straightens from the dresser. Blood roars in my ears.
Carl keeps going before anyone can fill the air. “We keep it professional.
We set boundaries.
We don’t lie, but we also don’t hand over our private lives. You two appear together. You let yourself be seen being decent. You give this story a different ending.”
Tish’s lips part, but no sound comes out. A thousand tiny reactions cross her face, each one gone so quickly it’s impossible to read them.
Ash’s jaw tightens.
My own mouth has gone dry.
Part of me wants to say no on instinct. Another part recognizes how neatly this fits since she already knows the media lanes and the importance of getting ahead of any rumors.
But can I really pretend to be with one woman?
Even if that woman is Tish?
The thought of appearing in public with her, my hand at the small of her back, does something stupid to my insides.
A quick burn of desire sizzles through me. I can see her dressed to the nines, her small, beautiful body draped in an expensive designer dress as she looks up at me with those enchanting blue eyes.
How far would we have to take this?
Would we kiss in public?
My dick hardens at the thought of having Tish wrapped in my arms, my mouth taking hers.
Would she wear her long dark hair up high or down and free? My hands actually itch from the want to run my hands through those strands and see if they’re as soft and silky as they look.
I imagine her locks sliding through my fingers as I run my hand through her hair, then grip the back of her head and pull her in for my kiss.
Carl clears his throat, ending my fantasy like a puck to a face mask.
He stares at each of us, wincing a little when he sees the stricken expression on Tish’s face.
He stands with both palms on the back of the chair across from me like he’s bracing the room. “Think about the team, the season, and your next contract.”
The look he gives me says the Thunderwolves may not renew my contract if I don’t take care of this.
No one speaks.
The iPad screen times out with a soft click.
“This would have to be Tish’s decision,” I say, my tone firm, letting him know I won’t push her to do something she would feel too uncomfortable about.
“No shit,” Ash remarks.
“That’s a given,” Carl says.
All three of us look at Tish. Her eyes widen as her panicked gaze snaps from me, to Ash, to Carl, then back to me again.