Page 60 of Faking It with my Hockey Crush

And I don’t know whether it’s because what Emma and I might have is being threatened, but I feel the ache even more now after seeing that picture.

“I’m sorry, Thomas. I’m sorry for causing you so much stress, so much hassle. And I’m sorry if you think I’ve dragged the family name through the mud. This latest scandal wasn’t my fault.”

Thomas lifts an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I need to work on my temper when I’m on the ice,” I say, lifting my hands up. “But I didn’t say what they’re saying I did, and I sure as heck didn’t intend it to be racist. Please tell me you know me better than that.”

“I know you better than that,” he says, his face as still as a stone.

“Thank you,” I sigh.

“But Emma might not. And if she sees this…” He lifts the paper.

And once again, my pulse jumps, my whole body goes cold, and a panic washes over me. “Emma!” I gasp. “I need to go.”

Thomas nods and moves across the room. At the door, he turns and looks at me. “Don’t break her heart again, Ryan.” His voice is as calm as a still afternoon, and we share an intense look.

“I won’t.” I shake my head. “I can’t. I love her.”

And when Thomas closes the door, I fly around my room to get dressed.

22

Emma

By the time Iget to the clinic, I’m nearly shaking, but clearly, Sharon has already heard the news, and she jumps from her chair when I walk in the door.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she says as I dump the paper on the desk. “Maybe he met up with her in the bar accidentally. Maybe they just bumped into each other,” she babbles. “Maybe it’s not even real.”

“She’s right,” Ryan’s voice comes from behind me. “It’s not real.”

I spin to look at him, but I’m already too far gone. From the store to the office, my mind has whirled with all the possible scenarios. Megan had been here for three days. In fact, she’s still wearing that darned red dress in the picture, which tells me that it was taken that same night. Clearly, when we all went home, Ryan went back to the bar.

“Emma,” Ryan says, his voice thick with regret. “Please listen to me.”

“I can’t,” I say, my voice breaking, my hands shaking, my whole body feeling numb. “Get out.”

“What?” He gawks.

“I said, get out,” I yell, fighting back the tears.

“Emma,” Sharon cries from behind me.

“Get out,” I yell again.

Panic dances across Ryan’s face, but I don’t care. If he met her, why didn’t he tell me? Even if nothing happened between them, why didn’t he tell me? He’s done it again. He’s humiliated me, but this time, in front of the whole world.

“Get out!” I scream.

Ryan backs away with his hands raised. “Emma, let me explain.”

But I stalk toward him until his back is against the door. Pushing my hand against his chest, the door opens a little behind him. “Leave,” I hiss, a tear now trickling down my cheek.

His brow rises and falls, every emotion he’s experiencing plain to see on his face. But I don’t care. I need him to go. I can’t see him, speak to him, listen to him. Not one more second.

Eventually, Ryan backs out of the clinic, and when the door closes, I take the keys from my pocket and lock the doors, giving him one last glare.

“Emma, sweetheart,” Sharon begins.

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