Page 45 of Wrong Score

What did he just say? "Actually, I have a really hard time believing that. You both seem completely different. You seem even keeled, while Bex seems…" I fight to find a word that doesn't insult Bex right in front of Sam.

"Passionate?" Sam says, but that's not exactly the word I would use to describe Bex.

"Yeah, something like that," I say, thinking more along the lines of "hot-head".

But then again, there was something calming about Bex at the gala and then again in the back of the limo. Something that put me at ease in a way no one else has ever done before. And Bex is the last man on earth I thought would be capable of doing that for me.

"I'm several years older than Bex and my passion for the game has morphed more into a respect. I suppose I see it differently from the owner's box than I did from the ice," he says. "Perspective, I think. Something that Bex needs more of. He's too close to it sometimes. He needs a reason to look up from center ice once in a while."

"Something to remind him that there's more to life than the game… or maybe,someone."

Wait a second.

Is he referring to me?

"Sam," I say, already shaking my head. "If you're insinuating that Bex has any interest in me, I can assure you that nothing could be further from the truth."

Sam just smiles. "Just do me a favor. Whatever happens between you two, just remember that Bex is a complicated guy. He's not what he seems from the outside at first glance. But you already know that don’t you?”

I nod, my heart heavy with the truth of it. “Yeah, I think I might have an idea.”

Sam studies me for a moment longer before offering a small, understanding smile. “You’ll figure it out, Rowan. One way or another, you will.”

I manage a weak smile in return, but the uncertainty lingers. I don’t know if I will figure it out, or if there’s even a way to untangle the mess I’ve gotten myself into. But as I leave Sam’s office and head back into the heart of the arena, I know one thing for sure—the story may be big, but it’s not the only thing on my mind.

Bex is still there, in the back of my thoughts, a constant presence that I can’t seem to shake.

Chapter Fifteen

Bex

I'm in my office, pouring over game footage from our last match, when I hear a familiar voice drifting through my open door. It's Rowan, and she sounds... agitated.

"No, just give me more time," she says, her voice low and urgent. "I have a feeling this could be a big story. I can get it, I promise."

My head snaps up, every muscle in my body tensing. A big story? About what? Or more importantly, about whom?

I rise from my chair, moving closer to the door. Something in her tone sets off alarm bells in my head.

"Yes, I understand the deadline, but..." Rowan continues. I can hear the frustration in her voice, and if I had to deal with Charles Albright, the Chief Editor ofThe Seattle Sunrise, I'd probably take a long swim into Puget Sound and never return to shore. If lawyers have ambulance chasers, then journalists have Charles Albright. The man doesn't care about facts, he only cares about appeasing his stockholders. "Look, I just need a little more time to piece it all together. This could be huge for the paper, and a great headline."

My head snaps up, the tension in her tone sending a ripple of unease through me. The words themselves set every nerve on edge.

A big story. Huge for the paper.

The pieces fall into place with alarming clarity. The conversations I’ve caught her having with Reeve in the hallway. The extra time she’s been spending around the stadium. The way she’s been watching everything lately, as though she’s piecing together a puzzle.

The realization hits me hard—she’s digging. And I know exactly whose dirt she’s trying to uncover.

I push back from my desk, rising to my feet as the frustration and anger build inside me. It doesn’t matter what her intentions are; if she drags one of my players into her story, it won’t just affect the team—it could ruin a career.

The sound of her footsteps nears, followed by a soft knock at the door.

"Coach Bex?" she says, her voice hesitant. "Do you have a moment?"

Was the gala a set up just so I’d be too distracted to see that she’s still digging up dirt?

Did she think she could lower my defenses the minute she told me about Drew and then proceeded to straddle me in the limo.

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