Page 82 of From Wink to Kink

As if on cue, my phone starts blowing up with notifications. Texts from teammates, missed calls from my agent, even a voicemail from my mother, a conversation I'm definitely not ready for.

I ignore them all, instead taking a deep breath and pulling up a search for ‘Chuck Newcomb Costa Rica.’ I need to see what the hell is going on before I do anything else. And there we are, in full color. Ruby and me by the pool, laughing over something I can't remember now. The two of us walking on the beach at sunset, her hand in mine. A series of shots from that last night in the treehouse, the candlelit dinner I'd arranged. In every photo, we look... happy. In love, even.

My chest aches as I scroll through the images. We look good together. Really good. Like we fit.

But we don't fit. Ruby made that clear. We're too different. It would never work. Etcetera, etcetera.

So why does seeing these photos make me want to try again?

I'm startled out of my thoughts by a honk behind me. The light's turned green. I shake my head, putting my phone down and drive on autopilot back to my apartment.

As I walk through my front door, my phone buzzes again. This time, it's Tyler.

Dude. We need to talk. Now.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. This is it. The moment of truth. Do I lie to my friend, pretend nothing happened between his sister and me, aside from keeping each other company in a weird situation? Or do I come clean, risk our friendship, and possibly my place on the team?

And what about Ruby? Should I warn her about the photos? Try to explain? Or respect her wishes and keep my distance?

As I stand in my empty apartment, staring at Tyler's message, I realize something. For all my talk of moving on, of focusing on hockey, I've been lying to myself. Because the truth is, I'd give it all up—the game, the fame, everything—for another chance with this woman.

But it's not up to just me. It's up to her too.

With a heavy sigh, I type out a response to Tyler.

Yeah, we do need to talk.

As I hit send, I can't help but wonder—is this the end of something. Or the beginning?

42

CHUCK

I stare at my phone,Ruby's number on the screen. My thumb hovers over the call button, my mind a battlefield of conflicting thoughts.

I shouldn't call her. She made it clear she wants nothing to do with me.

But she needs to know about the photos.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I hitsend. Each ring feels like an eternity.

"Hello?" Her voice, slightly wary, sends a jolt through me.

"Ruby, hey. It's Chuck."

A pause. "I know. What's up?"

I take a deep breath. "We need to talk. About Costa Rica."

Another pause, longer this time. "Chuck, I thought we agreed?—”

"I know, I know. But something's happened. There are... photos. Of us. From the resort."

"What?" The edge in her voice is sharp enough to cut. "What do you mean, photos?"

I explain about the paparazzi, the social media storm, Vince's text. As I talk, I can feel her panic through the phone.

"Ruby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea they'd gotten out. I just... I thought you should hear it from me."

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