Chapter 40
forty
INDIGO
Time is a little bitch, and so are people on the internet.
All I want is to curl up with my boyfriend and enjoy some alone time.
Peace, quiet, and a lazy day in sounds amazing when it’s been so hard to come by during the postseason.
Sebastian and the rest of the Rogues only have a couple of days to rest before the biggest series of the season, and some of their careers, kicks off.
They made it to the Cup.
They’re seeded above the Eastern Conference champions, so the first two games will be played at home, and everyone is thrilled, but they’re also stressed. If Bash normally takes on a significant amount of the pressure during the regular season, he must be bowing under it now.
I can’t wait to watch him kick ass, but I’m also worried about him. Hence the stay home and do nothing plans.
He was still sleeping when I woke up, so I tiptoed out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, cut up some fruit, made a huge amount of eggs and sausage, and brewed a pot of coffee.
It was perfect. Blissfully peaceful, since I’d left my phone on the bedside table. He wrapped me in his arms after shuffling into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and sleep-rumpled, and all felt right in the world. The morning had dawned, and with it, endless possibilities.
Then I made the mistake of checking my phone before getting into the shower.
There were texts from Lola, my mom, and most concerningly, my agent.
Dread souring everything I’d just eaten in my stomach, I tapped on the text from Elise first. She’s not a big texter—email is her preferred mode of communication—so the fact that she’d sent me several messages before nine a.m. was concerning.
Elise
Have you seen the news? Well, news is generous. Have you seen what’s been posted on an online gossip rag?
Elise
We need to discuss how to move forward. While we could deny this, it’s only a matter of time before everything comes out, anyway. The smart thing would be to get ahead of this and use it to our benefit. The publisher agrees.
My stomach rolls, and nausea grips me. What is she talking about?
As if she was preemptively reading my mind, my agent’s next text contains a link to a gossip site that normally focuses on sports and athletes.
So it’s something about Sebastian and me. Okay. That’s fine. We haven’t done anything scandalous, and sure as hell don’t plan to.
“You okay? You look pale.” Large, strong hands splay across my shoulders before sliding down my arms and wrapping around my waist from behind. Sebastian’s warmth and spicy scent envelop me, and I suck in a few deep breaths, drawing strength from him.
I don’t want to click on the link, but I need to know what’s going on.
“I’m not sure yet. I got a few texts from my literary agent that have me a little nervous.
” I’m going to have to tell him everything.
Not that I don’t want to. Things are going well with us, and it’s something I’ve been thinking about, but I figured I’d wait until after the postseason came to an end so I didn’t distract him.
That may not be possible anymore.
“What did they say?”
“It’s all a little cryptic, but she sent me a link.
I’m psyching myself up to click on it.” My heart races and my stomach hollows out.
It has me feeling queasy, and I’m thankful for Sebastian’s solid bulk behind me.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I let myself lean against him and draw on his strength.
Whatever happens next, I won’t have to deal with it alone.
I hope he’s not angry at me for keeping my pen name and success close to the chest. It all seems so silly now. Why I didn’t tell him when we reconnected?
“I’m here with you. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”
God, his words are so comforting, but they make me feel even worse for not trusting him with all of this sooner.
“Okay. Yeah. It’s probably nothing more than people deciding I’m not good enough for you.”
Sebastian’s chest rumbles against my back. “It better not be. And you better know that’s bullshit, Rosebud.”
“I do,” I say rather unconvincingly.
“We’re going to talk about why it sounded like you didn’t really believe that later. For now, click on the link, Indigo.” He presses a kiss to my temple before looking at my phone over my shoulder.
Steeling myself, I suck in a deep breath, then tap on the link.
The first thing I see is a photo of Sebastian and me outside of the coffee shop from yesterday afternoon. He looks angry, while I wear a startled expression.
The second thing I see is the headline.
Hockey star Sebastian Navarro linked with Robert Bloom and Vivian Marsh’s daughter.
Okay, that’s not so bad. I mean, it’s annoying as hell being reduced to my parents’ daughter, but that’s to be expected.
The problem is the subheading.
Eagle-eyed fans speculate she may be popular romance author Violet Quinn.
Oh, no.
Heart hammering, I speed-read the article.
The first part of it details what the public has gleaned about mine and Sebastian’s relationship.
Only the recent stuff. Nothing about how we knew each other as teenagers.
It recounts the times we’ve been seen together, then gives the bullet points about my parents’ divorce and sex tape.
Then there’s a photo that makes my stomach drop.
It was taken through the window of the coffee shop. My back is to the photographer as I’m hunched over my laptop, deep in concentration, and typing away. My screen is completely visible, and the photo beneath it is a zoomed-in close-up of the page I’d been working on.
“Oh my god.” Elise is going to murder me, reanimate my corpse, then murder me again.
“Indie? Is this true?”
My brain is too noisy and my body too full of panic to read Sebastian’s tone. I can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, full of wonderment… A distressed sound crawls up my throat.
“Baby? Are you okay?”
“I think I’m dying,” I say as my chest tightens. “Is this what a heart attack feels like? Or is it a run-of-the-mill panic attack? It’s hard to tell, sometimes.”
“Hey.” Strong hands spin me around before cupping my face and tilting my head back. Rich brown eyes search my expression, full of concern. Not anger. Thank god. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
I try to, I do, but the room still starts to spin, so I drop my phone and grab hold of his wrists.
“Come on. Deep breath in for me. That’s it.” Sebastian sweeps his thumbs along my cheekbones as he inhales slow and deep, encouraging me to mimic the action. “Good. You’re doing so well.”
When I’m finally breathing normally and my knees are no longer at risk of giving out, I close my eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t even remember why it felt like I had to keep it a secret at first, but then with the playoffs, it didn’t seem like the best time to bring it up because I wanted the focus to be on you and the games.
It sounds so stupid now that I’m saying it, but I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you. ”
“I know, baby.”
The gentleness of his tone has me cracking my eyes open and staring up at him. Something that’s met with a smile. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad? Of course not. You don’t owe me your secrets. Do I hope you start feeling like you can tell me all of them? Absolutely. But we all have them.”
“And do you have secrets?” I hold my breath because a small, insecure part of me worries he does.
Bash’s lips quirk. “Maybe.”
Oh, god. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “And what secret is that?”
“Are you sure you want to know? Once I tell you, there’s no going back. It may change how you see me.” He’s smiling, but his words make my stomach pitch and roll.
“You’re freaking me out.”
His smile slips. “Shit. I’m sorry. It’s not… There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just that I…” He blows a breath out through pursed lips. “I run a Dungeons and Dragons game.”
Blinking rapidly, I fall silent. Because that was not what I expected to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re a well-known author, and I’m the Dungeon Master for a game that’s been going on for the last two years.
” He shrugs like that’s not a completely unprecedented sentence.
“But wait. Violet Quinn. Isn’t that the author the woman at the bookstore was talking about?
The one they were desperate to have do an event at their shop? ”
“Yes, but don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you and Dungeons and Dragons right now.”
Sebastian laughs brightly. “I also paint miniature figurines. No one else really knows, because either they’d make fun of me or want to join me, and I can never decide which would be worse.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “You’re a secret nerd.”
“And you’re a secret author. See? Everyone has their secrets.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “But what I don’t understand is why you’d keep this a secret? Mine is so my friends don’t bust my balls, but your secret is way more badass, so that can’t be it.”
“I don’t have the best relationship with the public. Or publicity,” I say. Bending down, I pick up my phone and scroll to the comments. I don’t read them—I’m not a masochist—but I hand it to Bash. “Are the comments nice?”
The frown that forms on his face within moments is answer enough.
“That’s what I thought. I bet some people are talking about how I probably only got a book deal because of my parents’ fame, right?”
Again, he remains silent, the furrows on his brow deepening.
“And I’m sure there are people ripping into me and calling my books glorified porn? Or that I don’t belong with you because you’re out of my league and all of this must be a PR stunt or that you’ve agreed to go out with me for research purposes?”
His voice is horse when he speaks. “Rosebud…”
“It’s okay.” I take my phone back and fidget with it. “I mean, it’s not, but it’s what I expected.”
“Who cares what a bunch of anonymous assholes on the internet think?” The ferocity in his deep eyes banishes some of the swirling anxiety that’s making me feel nauseated.
“I know. I know I shouldn’t care, and I try not to, I swear. But as much as I try to ignore it and as much as I try not to be hurt by the things people say, after a while, if enough people say the same thing, it’s hard not to wonder if it’s true.”
“It’s not, though. Not even a little bit.”
I suck in a ragged breath. “Then why do so many people say it?”
When he pulls me against his chest and folds me into his embrace, I let myself feel it all. All the insecurity, the hurt, the confusion about why I’m always the punching bag bubbles to the surface, and I allow myself to acknowledge it.
“People are jealous assholes, Indie. They take their own unhappiness out on others because they can’t stand allowing someone else to shine when they feel so dark.” His fingers stroke my hair, sending tingles over my scalp. “But not all the comments on that article were negative.”
I huff out a breath against his chest.
“I’m serious. Even at a quick glance, some of the comments with the most likes were by women saying Violet Quinn is their favorite writer and that they’re so excited to find out who you really are.”
“Well, I have no intention of reading them, so I’ll take your word for it.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, plucking the phone from my hand.
He unlocks the screen using my face, then he scrolls through the comments.
“Oh my god, I love Violet Quinn so much. Who would have thought she was Robert and Vivian’s daughter all along?
It makes sense, though. They’re storytellers, and so is she. ”
I raise my eyebrows at that, because it’s an angle I never considered. But I suppose it’s true.
“And this one says, OMG, please tell me she’s going to write a hockey romance.” Sebastian smirks at that one, but little does he know that I have written a hockey romance. One that was not-so-loosely based on him and our relationship.
Yeah. Not ready to talk about that yet.
“This person says, Please tell me this means she’s going to do some signings and book cons? I have been dying to get my hands on signed copies.”
Okay. So not everyone hates me. That’s good. Still, this whole situation is a mess, and I’m worried about how my publisher will react.
“I believe in you, Indie. And I’m so fucking proud of you.
The fact that you’re already a badass author doesn’t surprise me in the least, and I can’t wait to buy all of your books and display them proudly on my shelves.
” Sweeping his palm over my cheek, Sebastian looks down at me with so much pride and tenderness before he tangles his fingers in my hair and slants his mouth over mine in a toe-curling kiss.
I should have told him sooner.
“Everything will work out. I’m here for you. I’ll always have your back.”
“Thanks, babe. I can’t believe I spent ten years without you.” Every cell in my body hums happily when he looks down at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. “And I can’t believe you’re secretly a D&D nerd.”
“Shut up,” he says, chuckling.
“That’s hot.”
“Call your agent, Indigo. You’ll feel better once you have a plan in place.”
I know he’s right. Sighing deeply, I take my phone back and tap on Elise’s number. Leaning into Sebastian’s strength, I try to calm my breathing.
Here goes nothing.