Page 85 of The Secret Play

Nico smirked, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. “Plan B, then?”

I nodded. “I’m not even sure if there was a plan A, to be honest. This is the only thing that makes sense. It feels right.”

“You’re absolutely sure about this?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

He shook his head. “You saw the signs. If you do this, the fans could turn on you. They could make things very hard for you and Matthew.”

“Out of everything that’s happened today,” I said firmly, “this is the easy part.”

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment before his smirk softened into something closer to a smile. “All right, Coach. Let’s do it.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s.” Whatever came after this—Matthew, the media, the fallout—we’d handle it.

The final period loomed, the crowd chanted, and I stood behind the bench, watching the team gather. This was it. Whatever chaos awaited me off the ice, it didn’t matter now. This moment was everything.

And I was ready.

Chapter 34

Gemma

The second intermission always felt like the longest part of the night, but tonight, it was excruciating. Megan had been distracted by her phone, giggling, and suddenly offered to take Winnie to the bathroom. I figured she wanted an excuse to hunt Nico down and flirt with him. Maybe they’d been texting back and forth. I wasn’t sure why she was so giggly before she left, but she was happy about something, and I was glad to see it.

Megan wasn’t like most people. It took a lot to make her happy. Nico was a lot. So, the two of them seemed to fit. Not to mention the fact that she’d been crushing on him since she first came over to my house when we were kids. I could still see her in my mind, eyes wide, mouth open as he breezed past her to dig through the refrigerator. She nearly dropped the orange juice. At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong and had asked her, “Are you feeling okay? You look like you’re about to throw up.”

I learned that was not the thing to say to your new best friend when she was staring at her very first crush.

I shook my head at the memory. Felt like a lifetime ago, around the same time Megan and Winnie had left. I was alone in the sea of excited fans, so it wasn’t too bad. Everybody was in a good mood, enjoying the game. The arena buzzed with anticipation for the final period, the energy thick enough to feel it in the air. It was almost enough for me to forget about the signs sprinkled through the stands. But then I read some of them.

“Puck Gemma!” a sign read. That was a particularly popular phrase. Some posters were more colorful. None were flattering. Only then did I realize people were glancing my way.

I sank lower in my seat, pulling my jacket tighter around me as if it could shield me from the stares in my direction. The article had a photo of me at the bottom, so only the dedicated readers knew what I looked like, but by the number of signs, it was easy to assume there were plenty of them here. Given the finger-pointing and glares, I was sure I’d been spotted.

I had to suck it up, though. I’d earned this.

I deserved the scrutiny. I’d invited it the moment I decided to write that article. It was a calculated risk worth taking to save Casey’s job. I knew this was coming. It wasn’t the first time the public had collectively decided to hate someone. But it was one thing to know it would happen and another to sit here in the arena, vulnerable and alone, feeling the sharp edges of the crowd’s judgment.

The Zamboni made its slow laps around the ice. I stared at it, trying to zone out and dissociate. Anything was better than watching people gossip about me. I hadn’t felt this dissected since I told my brother I was pregnant with Winnie. Granted, I was already in LA by then, so at least I didn’t have to face him right away.

It took half a day, thanks to flight delays. But he had shown up at my apartment in LA, looking for the asshole who had “knocked me up.” When I told him I wasn’t going to tell him who the father was, and we had a few more ugly exchanges, he took off, having spent less than an hour in LA total. He was so angry, and he had no outlet for that anger, so he threw himself into practice after practice until he cooled down. Now, he attributed his increased skill to that time period, but we both knew that wasn’t where he got his talent from. He worked hard for it, period.

It took a long time for him to forgive me for not telling him who the father was. I wondered how long it would take an arena full of strangers to get over the article.

I glanced around, looking for my best friend and my daughter, only to be met with more scowls. A woman pointed at me, and her friend mouthed, “Disgusting.” At least, I thought that was what she said. Thankfully, at this distance, I couldn’t hear them. I didn’t want to know anything else, except for one thing.

Where are Megan and Winnie?

Not that I wanted them to face this with me. But I was fairly certain no one would mess with me if my adorable daughter were with me. Plus, Megan threw a mean right hook from taking boxing at computer summer camp. These days, she liked to play on the boxing machines in bars to earn free drinks from guys who thought they could beat her. It was one of the few outings she actually enjoyed.

I was surprised she had jumped on the trip to the arena. It was filled with everything she didn’t like: people, loud noises, and the cold. But when it came to Nico and Winnie, she was a trouper.

The seconds ticked on, and they were still gone, making the minutes stretch unbearably. I glanced around, darting toward the aisle where I hoped they’d appear. That was when I saw her. A woman a few rows up was staring at me.

Not just staring, either. She’d been holding one of the signs earlier, and now her eyes locked on me with a level of intensity that made me want to hide. Her face was stern, her jaw set, and her anger radiated through me.

Please, no.

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