Chapter 21
Mason
The Fusion’s preseason kickoff fan appreciation event was already underway when I arrived, ten minutes before I was even supposed to be here.
A line snaked around the block, full of eager fans in Fusion colors, waving signs.
Inside, the atmosphere buzzed like a carnival for hockey diehards.
Booths lined the perimeter of the convention hall, offering everything from autograph sessions to photo ops with the team’s mascot, an oversized dinosaur named Miamasaurus Rex.
This was my first meet-and-greet as a member of the Fusion, and I wanted to make a good impression with the crowd.
A pretty blonde in a Fusion polo bounded up to me, clipboard in hand.
She looked young, early twenties maybe, with bright green eyes and the kind of enthusiasm that carried.
She was the type who’d pull attention without trying, but when I looked at her, I couldn’t help thinking of my little sister.
Same bright spirit. Same innocence. Like she was ready to take on the world.
“Mason Callahan! I’m Sutton from PR. Ready for your big debut?”
I tugged at the collar of my crisp new Fusion jersey, still feeling a bit like an imposter. “As I’ll ever be, eh?”
She laughed and touched my arm. “Don’t worry, you’ll do great. The fans are going to love you, fresh meat and all that.” She winced. “I mean, new player. Sorry.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been called worse on the ice.”
Sutton’s cheeks turned pink. “Right. Well, how about we get you set up at your signing table? Just remember what you went over in media training about your trade.”
“Got it. Stick to the talking points. No problem.”
She gave me a bright laugh. “That’s the spirit. Just be yourself and you’ll do great.”
As Sutton led me to the table, I scanned the sea of Fusion jerseys and excited faces. The whole place hummed. A few people were already shouting my name, waving for autographs. I waved back, easing into it. This wasn’t so different from events back home.
We’d just reached the table, where some of my teammates were already seated, when a familiar figure caught my eye.
No way. It couldn’t be.
Vanessa, my ex from Toronto, sauntered through the crowd like it was her runway, all long legs and swaying hips. Her shiny dark hair swung with each step, and she was wearing my new Fusion jersey, somehow making it look like a tiny dress. As always, her makeup was flawless, smoky eyes, glossy lips.
What the hell was she doing here? A knot formed in my stomach.
She locked eyes with me and smiled, heading straight for my table. Shit.
“Mason, baby!” she squealed, pushing past a group of bewildered fans. “If it isn’t my favorite defenseman!”
She threw her arms around my neck before I could brace. “Imagine running into you!”
“Uh, hey, Vanessa,” I managed, peeling her off me. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I’m in town for a beauty and cosmetics convention.” She tossed her hair, clearly aware of every stare in the room. “Such a happy coincidence it lined up with your event. Thought I’d swing by and support my favorite player.”
“Right. Funny how that worked out.” I kept the bite out of it. Mostly.
Vanessa turned to Sutton, who was still hovering nearby.
“I’m Vanessa, Mason’s girlfriend. Well, on-again, off-again.
We had a silly little tiff when he got traded and I said some things I shouldn’t have.
I was just so shocked and hurt to be losing him, you know?
But I’m here to make amends and be supportive. ”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Girlfriend? Was she serious right now? We’d barely been more than a casual hookup, and I’d made that crystal clear from the start.
“Wow, well, I’ll give you two a moment to catch up then!” Sutton said, her smile tightening a notch. She shot me a look that said ‘you better handle this’ before making a tactful exit.
And just like that, Vanessa had succeeded in claiming me, at least in the eyes of the fans and the media.
“It was great to see you, Vanessa.” I edged away and settled in at the table next to Sawyer. “But I’ve got people waiting, so…”
“Oh, don’t mind me!” Vanessa chirped, turning to the line and waving the first person forward.
She perched on the edge of my table. “So, how are you liking Miami so far? I bet you miss Toronto.”
I shifted in my seat, hyper-aware of the curious stares from nearby fans. “Miami’s great. The team’s been real welcoming. But I need to stay focused on the meet-and-greet right now.”
She leaned across the table, the view down her shirt unmistakably deliberate.
“Remember that time in Toronto, babe?” she giggled, loud enough for everyone to hear. “When we snuck into the sauna after hours and—”
“Okay!” I cut her off, panic sparking in my chest. “That’s enough reminiscing for now. We’ll catch up later.”
Sawyer, signing jerseys next to me, snickered under his breath.
I ignored Vanessa’s cloying presence and turned to a guy in a Fusion jersey who was holding out a ball cap and puck for me to sign. Vanessa didn’t budge. She lingered at my side, popping up every time I thought she’d finally wandered off, dropping not-so-subtle hints about our “relationship.”
“Damn, Callahan,” Sawyer muttered beside me. “You sure know how to pick ’em. This one’s got trouble written all over her fine ass.”
As I scrawled my signature on another jersey, Vanessa toyed with a strand of hair. “We had such good times, didn’t we? Like Niagara Falls. The way you kissed me under the mist. You were so wild that night…”
I froze, pen hovering over the fabric. My patience frayed at the edges, but I forced a tight smile for the wide-eyed kid in front of me.
Across the room, Sutton was watching me with a concerned expression. I needed to shut this down, fast.
“Vanessa,” I said under my breath, “I’m in the middle of something here. You need to leave. Now.”
She pouted, but slid off the table. “Oh, alright. But don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily, Mason Callahan.”
More chuckles erupted from my teammates as they took it all in. Hunter, two seats down, leaned toward Sawyer. “Looks like someone’s trying to score a hat trick in crazy town.”
As she sashayed off, I let out a slow breath. I didn’t know what she was up to, but I knew it was going to be a problem.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on the excited fan stepping up in front of me. “Hey there, bud. Who should I make this out to?”
Vanessa granted me a brief reprieve, fading into the background while I worked the line for the next half hour, trading friendly banter, posing for selfies, and signing whatever people shoved in front of me. It was when an attractive reporter approached that Vanessa reappeared at my side.
“Riley Compton, WMPN, Miami Pulse News,” the reporter said, flashing me a dazzling smile. “Mason, can I get a quick quote about your transition to the Fusion?”
“Of course.”
Riley’s hand landed lightly on my arm. “How are you feeling about the upcoming season? Care to comment on the trade that brought you to Miami?”
I nodded, recalling the carefully scripted response I’d prepared with PR. I delivered the talking points about my excitement for the new season and gratitude for the warm welcome in Miami, keeping a smile in place.
Riley leaned closer, still smiling, her tone bright and teasing as she raised an eyebrow. “I think the fans are in for a real treat this season, especially with you on the ice. So, what do you—”
Suddenly, Vanessa’s drink went flying, splashing all over Riley’s pristine white blouse.
“Oh my gosh!” Vanessa gasped, pure theater. “I’m so clumsy! Here, let me help you clean that up.”
Riley dabbed at the spreading stain, then looked up. The friendly smile was gone, replaced by something cool and assessing.
“It’s fine,” she said, smile stretched tight. “I’m used to dealing with minor inconveniences.”
Vanessa’s smirk was quick, but I caught it. That spill hadn’t been an accident. She was marking her territory, loud and clear.
“I’m so sorry,” I told Riley, handing her a stack of napkins. “Let me make it up to you with that interview. How about we step over here?”
As I guided Riley away, I felt Vanessa’s eyes burning into my back. I’d dodged one bullet, but something told me that Vanessa was just getting started.
Vanessa kept her distance after that, but she didn’t leave. When the event finally wrapped, my nerves were frayed. A few of my teammates wandered over, wearing matching mischievous grins.
“Hey, Callahan!” Sawyer called, slapping my shoulder. “I think you could use a drink after all that drama. Your girlfriend is something else.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. Never was.”
Hunter added, smirking, “We’ve all got our share of unhinged bunnies in our closets. But hey, we’re heading to the Sin Bin. Come join us.”
“Just make sure there’s no ‘clumsy’ drinks being spilled on anyone,” Cade said with a wink. “We don’t need that kind of attention at the bar.”
“Trust me, I could use a strong one after today,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll meet you there.”
As we headed out, I heard Brody shout from behind, “And Mason, we’re gonna need to hear some wild sauna stories too!”
“Christ,” I muttered.
Vanessa caught up to me before I could slip away. “Leaving? I thought we were going to catch up?”
“I’m going to pass on the catching up, Vanessa.
That stunt you pulled on the reporter was unacceptable.
” I shoved a hand through my hair, anger spiking hard.
“I thought I made myself crystal clear in Toronto, but let me spell it out. We’re done.
There’s nothing between us anymore, and I don’t want to see you again. ”
Vanessa started to walk away, then turned back. “I don’t believe you want that, Mason. Oh, and by the way. I left a present for you. You’ll see it later, and maybe it’ll remind you how good we can be together.”
Fuck. She was impossible.
“See you around,” she said, blowing me a kiss.
My thoughts raced as I watched her go. A present? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.
King walked over, a concerned furrow in his brow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” The entire team had witnessed my disaster, including the captain.
“You heading to the Sin Bin?”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, feeling the day like a weight on my shoulders. “Yep. I’ll be there shortly.”
On my way out, I pulled out my phone and texted Lila.
Me: Just finished my meet-and-greet. I want to see you. Can you meet me at the Sin Bin? I’m heading over there now with some teammates. Please?
I didn’t breathe easy until her reply came through.
Lila: Sure. I’ll be there in 45 minutes.
The Sin Bin was in full swing when I arrived, the air thick with clinking glasses and boisterous laughter. I made a beeline for the back and dropped into a chair at our usual table, Brody and Sawyer flanking me like bodyguards.
“Alright, spill,” Sawyer said, sliding a Fusion Intrusion shot my way. “What’s got you looking like you just took a high stick to the family jewels? Is it that Vanessa chick?”
Dex glanced up from his phone. “Your girlfriend? Yeah, she asked me where we were meeting up. I let her know. You’re welcome.”
I wanted to punch that smirk off his face. “You told her I was coming here? Fuck, dude.”
Cade flicked a peanut into his mouth. “Dang, rookie. You don’t give the bunny cookers the deets on where their victims are.”
Dex scratched his head. “Bunny cooker? She’s not your girlfriend?”
“No, she’s not,” I snapped. “We were never serious. I thought she understood that.”
“Shit, then you’re not going to want to see this.” Dex held out his phone.
“Fuck,” I muttered, staring at the screen in disbelief.
Photos. Vanessa and me. Behind-the-scenes shots from that damn underwear shoot, plastered all over her Instagram.
There I was, sprawled on a fur rug in nothing but tight black briefs, with Vanessa draped over me.
Her lipstick was smeared across my chest in a garish kiss mark.
These were her own snaps from when we’d been fooling around after the shoot, each one more provocative than the last.
I’d never agreed to this. Not then. Not now.
“Fuck me,” I groaned, shoving the phone away.
Brody grabbed the phone, grinning. “Look at those hashtags. #SexyTimes #HockeyHunk #MissingMyIceMan”
My stomach churned as Hunter started reading the comments out loud, a mix of thirsty fan reactions and speculation about my relationship status.
I downed the shot in front of me, wincing at the burn. “This shit’s going viral, isn’t it?”
Dex nodded. “It’s blowing up. You’re already trending, big guy. They’re discussing it all over the unofficial fan pages, too.”
Roman glanced at the screen, then at me. “That’s not a misunderstanding. That’s a warning.”
“Fucking Vanessa.” I dragged a hand down my face, trying to think past the anger. What would Lila think? How was I supposed to explain this to her?
“Relax, man. Give it a day and they’ll forget about it. We’ve got a season to play,” Sawyer said, his easy tone offering a sliver of comfort. I still couldn’t shake the knot in my gut.
Brody clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You know she’s only doing this because she wants a reaction. Women can be crafty like that.”
“Crafty? More like manipulative,” I shot back. “I’m worried about Lila. She deserves better than this mess.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows jumped. “Lila? The interior design girl? Didn’t realize things were getting serious there, son.”
I leaned back, trying to explain something I didn’t even fully understand. “It’s… I don’t know. It’s different with her. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
Brody grinned and elbowed me. “Look at you, getting all mushy. Our boy’s growing up, Sawyer.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the stupid smile that tried to break through. “Fuck off, Donovan.”
Hunter leaned forward, his expression turning serious. “Listen, Mason. If Lila’s as great as you say, she’ll understand. Just be honest with her. And as for Vanessa, we’ve got your back. The team sticks together.”
A rush of gratitude cutting through the frustration. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Brody leaned in, his usual playboy smirk replaced with real concern. “This’ll blow over. Remember when Cade got caught skinny-dipping in that fountain?”
“Or when I accidentally sent that dick pic to Coach?” Sawyer added, laughing.
Despite myself, my mouth twitched. “You guys are idiots, you know that?”
“Yeah, but we’re your idiots,” Hunter said, lifting his glass. “To surviving exes, embarrassing photos, bunny cookers, and whatever else this crazy league throws at us.”