Page 107 of Pucking the Team
“And I will book a restaurant for afterwards, to celebrate the shoot,” Eduardo said, tapping on his phone.
Gina gave me a nudge and a grin.
She presumed Eduardo and I were an item, and she was right, but what Gina didn’t know was that I’d also been having sweaty, naked fun with Ben, Theo, and Dylan. And as far as I was concerned it could stay that way. My business was my business, and that was the way I liked it.
“What the…?” Eduardo said, his eyes narrowing at his screen. “I…Dylan…” He passed the phone to Dylan but looked at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Yeah, what?” Gina added, stretching to try and see the phone screen.
“Fuck!” Dylan threw me a glance and then shot a murderous glare out onto the ice. “What an idiot.” He dropped the helmet onto the bench and then shot out onto the rink.
“What is it?” I asked again.
Eduardo directed the screen my way.
“Oh shit.” I grabbed it from him. There was an up-close picture of Theo and I on the bench in the park. My legs were over his lap, my feet bare, and his arm was around my waist. He was pulling me close for a deep kiss, and it was clear I was enjoying it immensely by the slant of my head and the tip of my torso.
“Is that Ben?” Gina asked.
“No, Theo,” I said.
“But I…” She stared out at the ice.
“I’m a single woman and I’m keeping my options open,” I managed through clenched teeth. The article was onBuzzFeedand would be everywhere by now. And when I scrolled down, the photograph of me and Eduardo had also been published along with a headlinePippa Bentley Drops Stateside and Takes Bites From The Vipers.
I didn’t read anymore. I didn’t need to know what the gossipmongers would have said about me. It wouldn’t be nice, it never was. They pedaled in lies and speculation and ill-gotten photographs.
Damn it, I hadn’t even thought to check for a photographer, I’d been so caught up in Theo’s good news and then relaxing in the park with him.
I’d gotten slack. Comfortable. Presumed that because I wasn’t in the UK I wasn’t under such scrutiny.
I was. Clearly.
“Merde,” Eduardo said, “This is not going to go well.”
Theo had come to a stop on the ice near the bench and removed his helmet. Dylan sliced to a halt next to him, his expression dark and dangerous as shards of ice hit the wall.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Dylan jabbed his finger at Theo’s chest.
“What are you talking about, man?” Theo asked with a frown.
“You got papped, with Pippa at the park, and now a picture of you kissing her face off is all over the damn internet.”
“Fuck, is it?” He looked at me, and his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t think, asshole.” Dylan gave Theo a hefty shove. “You know she likes privacy.”
I gasped; the aggression in the shove was obvious.
“Fuck.” Eduardo dashed onto the ice.
But before he could put himself between Theo and Dylan, Theo had thrown his gloves to the ice and shoved back. “Don’t fucking push me, douchebag.”
“What you call me?” Dylan growled.
“Douchebag. I saw the fucking marks on her wrists, and you didn’t use a—”
