CHAPTER 6 The Scandal #2
“Your Instagram followers tripled.”
“That is horrifying.”
“You’ve got interview requests.”
“No.”
“Two podcast invitations.”
“No.”
“One fashion brand asked if you want free boots.”
I looked at her.
“What kind?”
Claire stared.
I sighed.
“Not relevant.”
“Progress.”
I took a sip of wine.
Claire studied me.
“So.”
“No.”
“I haven’t asked.”
“You’re going to.”
“Yes.”
She leaned closer.
“How good was the kiss?”
I threw a cushion at her.
Claire caught it.
“That good?”
“Please be serious.”
“I am serious.”
“My brother may never speak to me again.”
“He will.”
“You don’t know Noah.”
“I know siblings.”
“This is different.”
Claire’s expression softened.
“Do you regret it?”
I looked down at my wine.
The answer came quickly.
“No.”
That was the problem.
“Do you regret going?”
“No.”
“Dinner?”
“No.”
“The five hundred kisses against your car?”
“It wasn’t five hundred.”
“Number?”
“I stopped counting.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Emma.”
“Focus.”
“I am incredibly focused.”
I laughed despite myself.
Then it faded.
“I don’t regret Mason.”
That sentence sounded frighteningly serious.
Claire heard it too.
“You like him.”
I stared at the glass.
“I think so.”
“More than attraction?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means yes.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“It usually does.”
I leaned back.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“Noah hates him.”
“Yes.”
“The media thinks this is some dramatic betrayal.”
“Yes.”
“Mason lives in another city.”
“Two hours away.”
“Three with traffic.”
“Still manageable.”
I glared.
“You’re not helping.”
Claire smiled.
“Do you want help getting away from him?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Exactly.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Mason.
**Security says your building is clear now.**
Then:
**Still okay?**
I typed.
**Yes. Claire is here.**
His response:
**Good.**
A few seconds later:
**I’m sorry this got public before we even knew what it was.**
I stared at the words.
Before we even knew what it was.
Claire leaned over.
“What did he say?”
I hid the phone.
“Boundaries.”
“You literally handed me your dating life twenty minutes ago.”
“I did not.”
The phone buzzed again.
**I still want to see you.**
My pulse jumped.
Then:
**But only if you still want this after tonight.**
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
I typed slowly.
**I do.**
The three dots appeared immediately.
**When?**
I smiled despite myself.
Claire noticed.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“That face.”
“What face?”
“You are in trouble.”
She was right.
The next morning, trouble got worse.
At eight seventeen, someone knocked on my apartment door.
I assumed it was Claire returning with coffee.
She had slept on my couch and left early.
I opened the door.
Noah stood there.
I froze.
He looked exhausted.
Dark circles beneath his eyes.
Baseball cap pulled low.
His jaw was tight.
“Can I come in?”
I stepped aside.
He entered.
For once, my brother didn’t hug me.
That hurt more than I expected.
He walked toward the window.
I closed the door.
“Did you drive here this morning?”
“No.”
“Were you already in Seattle?”
“Yes.”
“Right.”
Silence.
The television remained off.
My phone lay face down on the counter.
Noah stared out the window.
“I’m sorry.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“For yelling.”
I hadn’t expected that.
“Okay.”
“I’m not sorry for being worried.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“I know you’re an adult.”
“Good.”
“I know I can’t tell you who to date.”
My stomach tightened.
“We’re not exactly dating.”
Noah’s expression became painful.
“Please don’t explain.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
He stepped closer.
“But Mason is different.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me why.”
Noah looked down.
For a moment, he seemed to fight with himself.
Then he said, “After Lily died, Mason disappeared.”
I became still.
“For three months.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“We didn’t know.”
“What do you mean you didn’t know?”
“He stopped answering everyone.”
“His team?”
“He was still in juniors then.”
Noah rubbed his jaw.
“He quit.”
My stomach tightened.
“Hockey?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he blamed himself.”
“That part I know.”
“No.”
Noah looked at me.
“You don’t.”
Something in his face made me nervous.
“What happened?”
“Mason stopped sleeping.”
I stayed quiet.
“Stopped eating properly. Stopped showing up to practice.”
Noah’s voice lowered.
“He got into fights.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound unusual.”
“Not hockey fights.”
My stomach dropped.
“What kind?”
“Bars. Parking lots. Anywhere someone looked at him wrong.”
I remembered Mason telling me Noah thought he destroyed everything he got close to.
“What happened?”
“One night he almost killed someone.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He beat a guy so badly he ended up in intensive care.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Mason told me he doesn’t—”
“I’m not saying he planned it.”
Noah’s jaw tightened.
“The guy said something about Lily.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Another piece.
Noah looked away.
“I pulled him off.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Was Mason arrested?”
“Yes.”
I stared.
“He has a criminal record?”
“Charges were dropped.”
“Why?”
“The guy refused to cooperate.”
“Why?”
Noah gave me a grim look.
“Mason’s family paid the medical bills. The guy wanted it gone.”
I walked toward the kitchen counter and leaned against it.
This wasn’t the Mason I knew.
Except I had known him for days.
Days.
Noah had known him for years.
“What happened after that?”
“He left.”
“Where?”
“Montana.”
I frowned.
“Why Montana?”
“His mother sent him to stay with an uncle.”
“For three months?”
“Almost four.”
“And when he came back?”
“He was different.”
“How?”
Noah laughed quietly.
“Controlled.”
That word mattered.
“He didn’t fight outside the rink anymore.”
“He fights you.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Noah stepped closer.
“Hockey has rules.”
I thought about Mason stopping every time I needed space.
Tell me to stop.
You never have to be afraid of me.
I believed him.
I still did.
“Noah.”
“I’m not saying he’s going to hurt you.”
That surprised me.
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying when Mason cares, he goes all in.”
Something shifted in my chest.
“He doesn’t know how to do halfway.”
Noah looked exhausted.
“Lily. Hockey. Friends.”
His mouth tightened.
“Everything.”
“And that scares you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because when he loses something, he burns everything around him.”
Silence.
I looked at my brother.
“You think I’m going to hurt him.”
Noah laughed bitterly.
“I think you’re both going to hurt each other.”
That answer surprised me more than anything else.
“This isn’t only about protecting me.”
“No.”
He sat on the edge of my couch.
“For years, I hated him because it was easier.”
“Easier than what?”
“Admitting I failed Lily too.”
His voice broke.
Just slightly.
I sat beside him.
“Noah.”
“I told her I’d drive her home.”
“I know.”
He looked at me sharply.
“Mason told you.”
“Yes.”
Noah nodded slowly.
“I went back inside because one of the guys was drunk and starting trouble.”
“That was what you had to deal with.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it would take two minutes.”
His eyes dropped to his hands.
“When I came back outside, she was gone.”
I didn’t speak.
“I called her.”
His voice became quieter.
“No answer.”
I reached for his hand.
He let me.
“The police called an hour later.”
My chest tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“I spent years thinking if Mason hadn’t introduced them, none of it would have happened.”
“And Mason blamed you for leaving her.”
“Yes.”
“You both blamed yourselves too.”
“Yes.”
“What a mess.”
Noah laughed once.
“That’s one word.”
We sat quietly.
Then I asked, “Do you still hate him?”
Noah stared ahead.
“I don’t know.”
That was the first honest answer I had ever received.
“You act like you do.”
“Hating him is familiar.”
“That doesn’t make it true.”
“No.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I don’t know what we are anymore.”
That sounded painfully similar to what Mason had said about me.
I almost smiled at the irony.
Noah looked at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Emma.”
“Apparently hockey players say that when they don’t want to answer.”
He frowned.
Then understood.
“Don’t compare me to him.”
“Too late.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his expression hardened again.
“You’re still going to see him.”
Not a question.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“I knew you’d say that.”
“I’m not doing it to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I need you to understand that.”
“I’m trying.”
I squeezed his hand.
“That’s enough for now.”
He looked at me.
“For now?”
“I’m optimistic.”
“Dangerous trait.”
“Mason says the same thing.”
Noah groaned.
“Please never tell me anything he says.”
I laughed.
For a moment, we were normal again.
Brother and sister.
Then Noah stood.
“At least make him work for it.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“If you insist on doing this.”
His face twisted as if physically suffering.
“Don’t make it easy.”
A laugh escaped me.
“Are you giving me dating advice about Mason?”
“No.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m leaving.”
He walked toward the door.
“Noah.”
He turned.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me the truth.”
His expression softened.
Then he nodded.
After he left, I stood alone in the apartment.
My phone buzzed.
Mason.
**Morning.**
Then:
**How bad is the internet?**
I smiled.
**Apparently we’re married now.**
His reply came immediately.
**Finally. Been waiting years.**
I laughed.
**You’re insane.**
**Possible.**
Then another message.
**Can I see you tonight?**
I stared at it.
Noah’s warning echoed in my head.
When Mason cares, he goes all in.
I should have been more afraid.
Instead, I wanted to know what that meant.
**Yes.**
Mason replied with an address.
Not a restaurant.
Not the arena.
I searched it.
A private skating rink outside Seattle.
My heart accelerated.
**Why a rink?**
His response came seconds later.
**Because you’ve watched me play.**
Then:
**Now I want to watch you fall.**
I smiled.
**I hate you.**
**No, you don’t.**
That sentence again.
And now, finally, I stopped pretending he was wrong.