Page 49 of Passing the Red Line
What the actual hell?
The team wouldn’t do something like that without telling me. Especially without asking for credentials. Kalen most likely had his agent or publicist call for it to be legit.
“What do you want?” I ask, getting into my car angry.
“A man can’t call his ex to catch up?”
“Said man cheated on his ex and tried to use her to get something he wanted. Besides, last time I checked, said man was in a relationship and has no reason to be calling his ex at eleven o’clock at night.” I say through my teeth, no longer feeling tired. Instead, I feel rage.
I should hang up, end the call right now, but a part of me wants to know what this asshole wants.
“Layla ended things.” He says, and for a second, I almost feel sorry for him.
“Let me guess, you cheated on her too?” Wouldn’t that be full circle? “Or did you use her too?”
“No,” he says, sounding angry. “She called it when she realized I wasn’t going to propose.”
An involuntary snort comes out of me.
Like his career, I’ve kept minimal tabs on Kalen and his personal life. Mostly because I was rooting for Layla and had hope that she would dump Kalen’s ass and go find a man that was worthy of her. I didn’t know anything about her or had spoken to her outside of that day, but I still wanted the best for her, even if a part of me hated her. But after I ended things with Kalen, Layla decided to stay.
In the eyes of the public and the hockey world, they were the cute couple that have been together forever and would possibly be for the rest of time. When Kalen got picked up by the NHL, they made up this whole fake story about how they got together.
But I guess what they were telling the public and showing on social media isn’t what was going on behind closed doors.
I’m surprised that the news of Layla finally leaving Kalen hasn’t made the news yet or made its way around the social sphere.
Of course, he wasn’t going to propose. Kalen has to keep his options open for the next best thing.
“Good for her. I wouldn’t have let you sting me along this long. She deserves better.” I say to him, a sadistic grin on my face. He might be hurt by his breakup but I don’t give a shit.
“Whatever,” he asks, with even more bite. “Who’s this guy you’re seeing?”
“None of your fucking business,” I say, not giving him any more information that what he already has. Vancouver and Chicago play each other, I don’t need Kalen going after Christian on the ice because I won’t give him what he wants. “You have thirty seconds to tell me what the fuck you want. Otherwise, I’m going to hang up and block your number for good. Actually, that sounds like a good idea. Bye, Kalen.”
“Wait!” He yells just as I pull the phone away from my ear.
“What?”
“There are rumors going around here in Vancouver that they are looking to trade me,” he starts.
“Shocker,” I deadpan.
“I need you to help make sure that I get traded to a good team,” he continues, as if I hadn’t interrupted him.
I figured this was why he started contacting me all those months ago. I just didn’t think that the asshole would actually have the balls to ask me. Color me surprised.
“And how am I supposed to help you? I'm just a photographer.” I say, already knowing his answer.
“Talk to your dad. He can talk to the Knights GM, and they can trade for me.” And there it is.
There is the request that I’ve been waiting for.
“Not going to happen,” I say about to hang up on him.
“Come on, Lia. Don’t be like that. Do this for me, please.” Oh, look at that, the asshole knows how to use the word please.
A single word is not enough to sway me, thank God.
