Page 87 of Interference

“A fan posted some photos of you out and about with your cats,” he said. “How did you get the two of them to walk on leashes?”

I hesitated. That was all he wanted to ask me about? My cats? Guard still up, I met him—and his phone—with my best media smile. “Oh, they’re easy. Put them in harnesses as kittens. Get them used to the leash.” I shrugged as I dropped onto the bench to take off my skates. “It’s really not hard, and taking them out lets them burn off some energy so they don’t destroy my house.”

He laughed. “They do seem, uh, large?”

I snorted. “They’re both twenty-plus pounds. Trust me, when they get the zoomies, the whole neighborhood feels it.”

“We might have to check with the UW seismology center and see if they’ve picked up any vibrations from that direction.”

I managed a chuckle, though I was still suspicious. I highly doubted Tandy had suddenly decided to dive into human interest pieces about our personal lives. Not unless there was some really juicy “human interest” for him to report, and my cats walking on leashes couldn’t possibly make that cut.

Still filming me with one phone, he took out a second and started thumbing through something on the screen. I glanced up at him, and the twist of his lips made my stomach drop.

Then… the piece connected.

The last time I’d been out walking the cats…

The last time we’d encountered fans who recognized me…

Oh…

Shit.

But there was no escape, and with Simon standing right there beside me, Tandy showed me his other phone and loudly asked, “What can you tell us about your new cat-walking buddy?”

The way Simon’s head snapped toward us sent a rush of panic through me.

Goddamn you, Tandy…

I took the phone and peered at the image. It was, of course, Wyatt and me, walking along a path with our small herd of critters. I was saying something, and Wyatt was laughing.

Simon loomed over me, having apparently abandoned his own interview. My neck prickled with my ex’s proximity at the same time my spine tingled at the sight of Wyatt’s easy smile. I was undoubtedly blushing, too, but fortunately, I was still hot and probably flushed from the game, so I didn’t think anyone noticed.

With a shrug, I handed back the phone. “Oh, yeah. That’s my friend Wyatt.”

Tandy’s eyes flicked toward Simon, then back to me, and one eyebrow arched. “Your friend?”

“Um, yes?” I laughed. “I do have friends, you know.”

Beside me, Simon bristled. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel him stepping away, probably back to his own interview, and it was all I could do not to throw my skate at Tandy’s head.

Really, dude? Seriously? Are you honestly trying to stir up drama between me and the man you think I’m still dating? Fuck you, prick.

“Ah, so he’s a friend.” Tandy thumbed through something else on his screen. “I didn’t realize people brought friends to the team Thanksgiving.”

He showed me the phone again. This time it displayed one of several group photos the team’s media gurus had posted from the holiday. In this one, I sat between Wyatt and Simon at the huge table, and the three of us smiled for the camera, same as everyone else in the room.

“His plans got canceled at the last minute.” I shrugged again. “I wasn’t going to leave him by himself, and Russell didn’t have a problem with an extra guest. It’s not as unusual as you might think.” I pasted on that media smile again. “The Bobcats are a family. Friends are included.”

Tandy scowled. Then he lowered the phone he’d been filming me with and pocketed both of them. “Thanks, Aussie. See you next game.”

I kept my big smile in place. “Any time, man.”

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes as he stalked away. I did laugh and shake my head, but my heart was also pounding. Was Tandy trying to stir shit up between Simon and me? He was the shock jock type, and it wasn’t below him to instigate drama between rival players, but I’d never pegged him for someone who’d actually try to cause issues in someone’s personal life.

Whether that was his intent or not, he’d succeeded. It didn’t even matter that Simon and I had split up—he was pissed. He wouldn’t look at me in the locker room. After I came back from showering, he was waiting for me to join our teammates and eat, and he looked thrilled. All through eating with our teammates, he was unusually quiet, which had me shifting nervously and barely able to keep any food down. Why was I even worried about what he thought? So what if I had to listen to him bitch in the car on the way home? We weren’t together anymore, so it was none of his business if I was more than friends with Wyatt.

God, I wish.

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