Page 154 of Ice Dance Hockey

“Y’ello,” I say, my voice groggy. Mostly from sleep, but also from screaming at Rhett. For some reason, he decided that sadism was the hill to die on last night. The outcome was worth it, but he might have bruises from me whacking him.

“Please tell me that shitstorm on social is just a shitstorm?”

“I mean, probably. I haven’t looked yet. It’s five am, Merc. God, it must be two am where you are.”

“I’m in Toronto, actually. We’ll be in New York by tomorrow. That means you’re home tomorrow night and not at Rhett’s apartment. I know you stayed there on a school night, Lo. We’re going to talk about that.”

God, his angry voice hurts my ears at this time of the morning, but I knew what I was in for, pushing the boundaries. “Yeah, jeez. So, what’s going on? Am I pregnant with Rhett’s baby this time?”

“No. Just, maybe stay away from … what’s it called? Gram something? Apparently, you’re getting married.”

“The Gram. Not worried. The PR team will take care of it.” I’ve learned to trust them. They’re good at their job. I yawn as Rhett’s phone buzzes clean off the bedside table, clattering to the floor.

From under the covers, his hand reaches out for it anyway, patting the wood, and when he doesn’t find it, he stirs.

“I should go, Merc.”

“Tomorrow night. Don’t forget,” he repeats.

“Yeah.” I’d complain out loud, but coziness wraps around me. Being cared about like that is my love language. I mean, I guess it’s everyone’s jam, but my brand is specific. I should peel myself from Rhett’s bed to hit the gym before class. He’s coming with me even if it’s his rest day. He’s got to be on a plane later, and I’m not ready to let him go.

I’m off the phone with Merc, but Rhett’s fished his phone from the floor and is scrolling with way too much intensity for this time of the morning. “Baby?”

His lips twist and his frown sharpens into razor-blade edges. “It’s fine. PR will sort this out.”

“You don’t look fine about it,” I say. He shakes his head, but his eyes haven’t left his phone. “Elkington, if you’re lying to protect me?—”

His stone expression cuts me off. “Let me protect you from this, Logan.”

That’s his thing. I want him to have his thing. I nod, but I chew my lip. “Okay, but I don’t think I can … Rhett, my stomach won’t be able to take it. You’ve got to give me something.”

He exhales a heavy breath. “If I do, will you promise to stay off social media?”

I mimic crossing my heart.

“One of the gossipy journalist-type influencers must have overheard our conversation last night. She wrote a piece on us. According to her, we’re engaged. Several other influencers have hopped on the bandwagon.”

A terrible sensation waves over my skin while my heart pounds hard against my ribcage. “Why is that bad? You wanted to whisk me to Vegas last night.”

“Which would have been done very undercover, until my PR team concocted the best way to announce it. I don’t personally care what the internet has to say about us—they can all go fuck themselves—but what I do affects my dad.”

Ah. That’s what that look was about. “Is he mad?”

“You could say that. He didn’t even call. Just several angry texts. He’s going to be in Calgary when I arrive with the team.”

Shit. “S-Should I come with you?”

“Isn’t your brother going to be here tomorrow with Stanley and a pile of other Meyer minions?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“I know how much your family means to you. Stay. I’ll take care of everything. I want to. This is what I want my role in our relationship to be, Lo. Let me do my thing, okay?”

“Okay.” I want him to do his thing, so much, and it’s better that I don’t know all the details if knowing what I already know has tied me in anxious knots. But Maxwell Elkington is the one thing Rhett’s never beaten.

“C’mere.” He crooks his fingers and ignores his phone that’s lighting up with a stream of texts and notifications.

“Rhett, what if he takes you away from me? What if he convinces you that we’re a mistake?”

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