Page 26 of Writing Mr. Wrong

Except it wasn’t really like that. He could go an entire day without anyone mentioning Denny. A day of being recognized with only smiles and waves.

That’s because he’d been sticking to the safe zone. Grabbing coffee at his usual shop. Ordering takeout from his usual restaurants. Hanging out with Jesse. Spending his days at the gym or at a rink. He’d been gone all last week with back-to-back away games, and once he was out of Vancouver, no one gave a shit whathe’d done to Denny. Hell, away from Vancouver, he was hardly recognized.

A little work—okay, a hell of a lot of work, dodging and ducking—and he’d been able to keep his life running smoothly despite the Denny fallout. Then he lost his mind and dragged Gemma into the eye of the storm.

Also, what just happened with Camille had nothing to do with Denny. Yeah, one-and-done was totally his dating life, and everyone knew it. But then, sometimes, when he tried to leave afterward, it… didn’t go well.

“That was good, right, Mace?” she’d said.

“Sure. Yeah. It was great. Thanks for—”

“We should do it again sometime.”

“Uh…” How the hell did you say no to that without sounding like a total asshole?

“How about next weekend?” she’d said.

“I…”Fuck.“I don’t date during the season. You know how it is. I need to focus.”

He’d love to say past dates had never confronted him in public, but yeah, it happened. Terrance insisted the incidents only bolstered Mason’s rep.

Everyone loves a bad boy.

Except he wasn’t trying to be a bad boy, and he didn’t like the idea that being one meant he could get away with hurting people.

As for the kid who refused to serve him, Mason couldn’t be sure that had been about Denny either. Hockey fans either loved Mason or loved to hate him.

He’d royally fucked up. He’d wanted to treat Gemma to a perfect date. He’d wanted to apologize—in his own way—for whathappened in high school. And he’d wanted to impress her. That was the quiet part. He wanted to get her attention.

Well, he’d gotten it, hadn’t he?

Now they were running through the rain, Mason waving for a cab, too distracted to have called the driver while they were still in the damn restaurant.

Was that a cab with its light on? Please be—

“Hey, Mace!” someone yelled.

Mason peered into the night, sluicing rain from his face. A kid, maybe twenty, was barreling down on Mason with his buddies in tow, all four teetering as if their Friday night had gotten off to a very early start.

“Mace!” the lead guy bellowed, though he was less than five feet away. “This one’s for Denny.”

Mason saw the guy swing and raised his arm to block it just as Gemma leapt between them. Mason yanked her out of the way, but the guy’s punch still struck a glancing blow on her cheek, spinning her off her feet.

Mason caught her, sweeping her up and over his arms.

“Shit,” one of the other young men said, dragging his friend back. “We’re sorry, ma’am. He’s had too much to drink. Are you okay?”

Gemma wriggled to get down. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t fine, was she? She’d nearly gotten clocked jumping in to defend him… against something he didn’t deserve to be defended against.

Gemma obviously hadn’t known about the Denny problem, and he hadn’t told her. He’d pushed and pushed until she agreed to go out with him… while withholding vital information she should have had before making that decision.

He grabbed the taxi door handle, yanked it open, and bundled her inside.

“Go home, Gem,” he mumbled, his cheeks heating with rising shame as he pulled bills from his wallet.

“Wait.” She held the door. “You’re coming with me, right?”

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