Page 31 of Broken Promises

willa

“Go away,”I grumble to whoever is knocking on my door before the sun is even up.

“Open the door, Willa.” Jo’s voice is low and stern. Like she’s trying not to wake anyone else. I look at the red numbers on the hotel alarm clock. It’s six in the morning. At least I’m not late for the bus.

I stumble my way to the door and open it, cringing when the light from the hallway hits my eyes. “Why are you waking me up this early?”

She grabs my hand and pulls me back into the room and onto the small couch. I yelp when she flips the lights on before sitting next to me.

“This better be an emergency,” I hiss, still trying to get my eyes to adjust to the light, and my brain to wake up.

“There’s a rumor going around small parts of the internet that you’re the side piece of some big shot hockey player.”

“What?” I screech. How the fuck did anyone find out? Maybe I’ve been more careless than I realize. Wait. “Side piece?”

“You’re not denying you’re with a hockey player?” Jo asks, locking onto me like a shark to blood in the water. It doesn’t help that I’ve been sleeping in a man’s shirt this whole tour. I stole afew of Declan’s when I was packing. They’re more comfortable than women’s pajamas.

I sigh and slump onto the couch. “Jo, it’s early, and you woke me out of a sound sleep. Can you please spell this out for me?”

“This picture is circulating. None of the big news outlets have picked it up yet. Probably because the rumors you were even there don’t have any photographic evidence to back it up.” She hands me her phone. It’s a picture of Gideon pointing his stick at the crowd after his last goal. Whoever took it was on the opposite side of the ice and cropped out Declan. It’s on some weird forum I’ve never seen and loads of people are claiming to have seen me at the game and then later climbing into a limo with Gideon.

I snort. “Jo, they don’t leave in limos.”

“That’s the problem with this?” she says, giving me a look that makes me feel like an idiot.

“I’m not with Gideon! I’m friends with his wife. She was sitting right next to me. Neither of us are even in that picture.” It’s not like Jo to believe these rumors. “Why are you asking me this? You had to have known this was fake.”

Jo doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns on the TV and puts ESPN on. They’re reporting about last night’s game. Or more specifically, the press conference that happened after. Where both Gideon and Declan walked out.

“Okay?” I ask. “They weren’t asking about the game, so the players left. Is that my fault too?” I’m getting defensive.

“I think you’re involved with one of those men.”

“So?”

“Willa. Come on. If you are and your friends find out through ESPN, they’re going to be hurt. If they’re hurt, the music suffers. The music suffers, my job gets harder.” She’s glaring at me now, but I’m angry.

“So that’s what this is? Not concern from a friend to another friend. You just don’t want me to make more work for you. Got it. You can leave now.”

“Willa . . .”

“No. My relationship status is none of your concern. No one will be reporting anything.”

“I’m sorry, I just —” Jo starts, her eyes downcast like she may actually be sorry, but I don’t care.

“You just knew I was in a relationship. You knew I wasn’t spending nights at my house since you also live there. You knew I was dodging questions about where I was going. You know what else you knew?” Jo doesn’t answer. She sits still, face impassive as she lets me speak. “You knew I was happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

“With a married man, Willa?” Jo says, not keeping the judgement from her voice.

“Yes. With a married man.” I leave it at that. She doesn’t need to know I’m the one he’s married to. She doesn’t need to know he’s been my best friend for most of my life. Hell, she doesn’t get to know any of that. “I’ll see you on the bus.”

I go into the bathroom and slam the door. I’m angry. I’m angry she jumped to conclusions before even asking me. I’m angry she thinks so little of me that she would assume what she did. But I’m even more angry with myself. I should’ve been honest with everyone this whole time, but I don’t know how.

I wasn’t lying when I told Declan I was afraid someone would slip, and he would get in trouble. Thanksgiving is creeping up quickly, and I thought I would have a solution by then. I promised myself I would have a solution by then.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. The only way this is going to work without hurting everyone is if Declan and I continue to do what we’re doing.

Put on a really convincing show.

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