Page 54 of Home Ice

"Fine."

"Yes!" Everyone does a little hop as if I said the next round is on me.

CHAPTER 35

A REALLY BAD JOKE

LILY

Brant: Hey, I know this is weird, but what are you doing right now?

I look around the hotel room. I'm sitting on one of the two beds. Meghan's is still untouched. As soon as we got into our room, the equipment manager told me she wanted to go out and see the town. She tried to talk me into joining her and her friends, but I told her I just wanted to stay in and rest tonight. I don't know when she'll be back, but it could be any minute. So whatever Brant is planning is probably not a good idea.

I wish he would plan something, though. We've spent more time together this week than we ever have, but we still haven't gotten anywhere near as close as we did the night I hurt my ankle. Other than a kiss here and there, he's barely even touched me. Maybe he has some savior complex and only gets it up for girls he thinks need his help.

Me: Relaxing. My room has a really pretty view of the city.

My eyes go to the window. All I can see is the building across the street.

Brant: Tell me no if you want, but I'm at a bar. You wouldn't want to join me, would you?

My heart skips at least two beats at the thought of spending the night in a new town with Brant.

Me: Is anyone else there?

The three dots appear and disappear and then appear again.

Brant: Some of the guys. But none of the coaches and no one from the front office.

He has to know we can't do whatever this is around anyone else. If the team found out, I would be fired. Maybe worse. Probably worse. I could lose my license. What if I lose my entire career because of this? Just thinking about it makes my heart pound so hard I can see my chest move with each beat. No. This has to stay a secret.

Brant: Don't be mad, but a few of the guys might maybe possibly know about us.

My phone slides out of my hand and bounces onto the floor when I read his text. He's joking right? Right? He is. He has to be. I take deep breath after deep breath, but nothing works to calm me down. It has to be a joke. I need to get to my phone because I have to see his follow-up text telling me just that. I lean over the edge of the bed and look for it. Of course, it's bounced over to the base of Meghan's bed. I lean out, but my arm is not even close to long enough. So I do what any sensible person does. I walk my arms out inch by inch, determined to not leave my bed. By the time I reach the phone, only the lower half of my shins are on the bed. If Meghan walked in now, she would think I'm doing some strange variation of pushups. I wish that explained my heart rate.

I try to walk my arms backward and scoot my body back onto the bed, but it's not as easy going in this direction. My shaking arms don't help. So I let myself drop to the floor. There's no new text, and my stomach falls. Shit, shit, shit. I decide to skip the texts and call him. He answers on the first ring.

"You're mad, and you're right to be. But hear me out." He doesn't bother saying hello.

"This is a really bad joke, right? You're drunk and think this is appropriate to joke about? Right?" I'm trying to sound assertive, but I know that's not the vibe my shaky voice is giving off. I close my eyes and pray to a god I quit believing in fourteen years ago, hoping that Brant will say yes.

"No, it's not a joke, and I haven't touched a drink. Other than one sip of this awful glass of blue sugar syrup Kayden made me try. But it's okay."

I let my upper body fall backward on the floor. Somewhere in my mind warnings blare about staying off dirty hotel floors, but they're drowned out by the even louder warnings about sleeping with the athletes. I can't even pretend I didn't know better because I did. "Brant, this is not okay. Not at all. What were you thinking? You promised me."

I hear him blow out a breath, but he doesn't say anything. Then someone in the background yells my name. It sounds like Sammy. Maybe. But he sounds drunk. He's yelling for me to join them. My stomach throws itself out the window and plummets down. They do know. This is all over. Everything.

"I need to go." I hang up before Brant can say a word. But it doesn't matter. There's nothing to be said. He knew this had to be a secret, but he told everyone anyway. What else did he tell them? If he told them about this, does that mean he told them about my past too? Even if I weren't going to be fired any minute, I could never show my face around the team if they know that. What happens now? Do I find my own way back to Salt Lake, or does the team pay for my flight even after they terminate me?

I'm still lying on the hotel floor, swarmed by completely rational thoughts that are definitely not spiraling out of control, when there's a knock at the door. It's probably the Royal Canadian Mounted Police coming to arrest me.

CHAPTER 36

YOU LET ME SPRAIN MY ANKLE, ASSHOLE

BRANT

"Lily, I'm sure you're in there." It feels like I've been pounding on this door for several minutes. If I keep it up much longer, I won't be surprised if someone calls security on me. Hell, it won't surprise me if Lily calls them. A minute ago, I saw a shadow cross over the door's peephole, so I know someone is in there. And anyone but her would have answered by now. "Please? I'm not leaving."

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