Page 60 of Pucking Obsessed

Personal.

Objectifying.

They’re nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with us as people.

Everything to do with possessing us.

“Shit.” Robyn hurriedly begins to read through the messages.

D’Angelo prowls to the bed, before grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me in front of him, so that we can read together.

“It’s going to be all right, cucciolo,” D’Angelo murmurs against my ear like he knows how much this is freaking me out. “You’re safe with me. These are just words online. They can’t touch us.”

Is he right?

It feels more than simply words.

“They aren’t superfans.” Robyn is ashen. “The superfans are the ones who watch all the games, buy the merch, and support the team’s talent every way that they can. This is people whose parasocial relationships are one-sided. They’re deluded. Look at this one…”

“You can’t pucking live without me, Atlas,” D’Angelo reads. “I’ll make you give me your jersey and kiss me at the next game.”

“If you date anyone but me, D’Angelo, I will kill you.” Robyn’s eyes are wide with shock.

“Be my Prince Charming. Guess that one’s for me. There’s a picture. It’s written in blood.” Bile rushes up my throat.

“Have you sent this to security?” D’Angelo demands.

He wraps his arm tightly around my waist, possessively. I need the hard feel of him close to me because as much as he’s telling me that no one is going to take me away from him, I won’t let anyone takehimeither.

Eden nods. “Why do they think that you’re dating them? They’re strangers.”

Eden is not looking away from me.

I know that he’d have his arm around me to be certain that I couldn’t be taken away as well, if he could.

I’m relieved, when Robyn understands Eden’s unspoken distress from simply his look and entwines her fingers with his.

“That’s why they’re dangerous,” Robyn replies. “They’re deluded that they’re in a relationship with whoever it is, whether a celebrity, sport star, or an idol. Then they strip that person of their bodily autonomy and cross every fucking line that there is. They create a fake image in their head of what the celebrity is like.”

“The true danger will come if any of us act differently to that image.” D’Angelo’s lips pinch. “What happens, if they find out that we’re dating? Break our winning streak? Or mess up on the ice and shatter the illusion of the tough players that they’ve built up in their heads?”

We’re fucked.

I shudder. “Any scandal becomes personal to them.”

“It’s this woman, RebelLover22, who is the biggest red flag.” Eden clicks on a link.

“22?” D’Angelo snarls. “She’s using my fucking jersey number? Robyn’s favorite number?”

I’m certain it’s the fact that it’s Robyn’s favorite number, special between the two of them, which pisses D’Angelo off the most.

The woman is lucky that she’s not in the room.

She has a fantasy in her head of D’Angelo but she truly has no idea what the real man is like.

If she did, she’d be fucking running forherlife right now.

Eden presses on another button, and a video starts up.

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