Page 98 of The Official Problem
Kieran
Watch the press conference. I need you to see it. I need you to hear what I have to say.
Please.
Matthieu stood in the entryway of Kieran’s townhome, bag packed and feet glued to the floor. He’d been trying to leave for over an hour, but some invisible tether kept him there. He should have been long gone by now—far from here, far from Kieran, far from every memory that made staying hurt this much.
This never should have happened. He never should have let Kieran back into his life. Never should have let himself believe this could be permanent, that he deserved something that made him so all-consumingly happy. He wasn’t sure when the walls he’d spent the last ten years building had started to crumble. A few flashes of that cocky smile. A few soft touches. A few loving words. Empty promises. And Kieran had brought his defenses crashing down. Hell, Matthieu had pulled them down for him.
Now look.
He’d let himself trust someone again. Let them see all the broken parts of him. Been vulnerable. Just like every time before, they’d used it to hurt him.
If he sat with it long enough, Matthieu could admit this hadn’t been Kieran’s intention. He could have destroyed Matthieu back in October if he’d wanted. But he hadn’t. Yet somehow, it had happened anyway. Maybe the universe was trying to tell them something: that they weren’t meant to be. That someone like Kieran—so fucking beautiful, and talented, and kind—had no business being with a man like Matthieu.
He didn’t know what Kieran thought him watching this press conference would change. Matthieu knew how this worked. Cole would have given him a script—a script designed to salvage Kieran’s career. That was Cole’s job. The only way to do that was by making Matthieu the bad guy, the guilty party. He didn’t know if he could sit there and watch it happen.
A voice in the back of his mind kept whispering about the last time. The last time he ran, the last time he didn’t listen, the last time he walked away without letting Kieran explain. How his lack of courage to face him had led to ten years of wishing for nothing more than Kieran back in his life. He’d been a coward then. Maybe he still was. But this time, he could at least hear him out—find out why it mattered so much to Kieran that he watch.
Even if it shattered the final pieces of Matthieu’s heart.
If that happened, at least this time he would know for sure. At least this time, he would have the closure he never got ten years earlier.
He moved to the couch, finding that his feet didn’t have a problem moving, as long as it was farther from the door. He perched on the arm, not quite settled, and grabbed the remote Cole had tossed on the coffee table that morning. The sports network had already cut to the press conference—a wide shot of a long table filling the screen.
The NHL commissioner, Inferno’s GM, and the coach were already seated, matching looks of displeasure on their faces. The room buzzed with low chatter and camera flashes when two more men stepped onto the stage.
The first was the stranger Matthieu had met only this morning. He’d yelled his name from the bottom of the stairs in a tone that made Matthieu’s stomach drop. It was funny, really, how Matthieu had feared the worst. That the worst, only this morning, had been he and Kieran getting caught. That someone had snapped a photo of them outside the locker room, catching the barely-there kiss Kieran had pressed to his cheek.
How Matthieu longed for that now.
The second man Matthieu would have recognized anywhere. Even through the screen, his heart pulled toward him. Kieran looked wrecked—pale, exhausted, hair mussed despite someone’s clear attempt to tame it. He wore a borrowed suit that hung awkwardly on his hunched shoulders.
He looked like a man with nothing left to lose. He looked the way Matthieu felt.
A throat cleared as a woman Matthieu presumed worked for the Inferno’s PR team stepped up to the mic. She welcomed the press, reminded them to hold questions until the end, and stepped aside for GM Clyde Haywood. A mutter of impatience rippled through the room before he leaned forward, lips brushing the mic and sending a loud burst of air echoing off the walls. The room fell deathly silent as they waited for him to speak. He surveyed the crowd like a man on his way to the gallows, then finally opened his mouth with a sigh.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. By now, many of you have seen the reports circulating about Kieran Lloyd and NHL referee Matthieu Bouchard.
“Let me be clear: the Inferno organization holds its players and staff to the highest standards of professionalism andintegrity. We take these allegations seriously, and every member of this organization will make themselves fully available to the league during the investigation.
“We support a transparent and thorough process and will stand behind whatever ruling the league deems appropriate. Our focus remains on playing the game the right way and upholding the values of the sport. Thank you.”
Haywood sat back and flashed a warning glance down the table at Kieran. Cameras clicked as reporters began shouting questions. The PR woman returned to settle the room and introduce the commissioner, though the entire hockey world already knew Richard D’Amico on sight. Matthieu hadn’t had the pleasure, or more accurately the misfortune, of meeting D’Amico in person. That might not be the case much longer.
He was a short man, dwarfed by the retired players to his left and right, yet his presence still filled the entire space. The whole room held its breath, a fact he seemed to be using to his benefit while he gathered his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and emotionless, with the hint of a Brooklyn accent clinging to his vowels.
“Good afternoon,” he began. “This morning, I spoke at length with Kieran Lloyd regarding alleged payment to referee Matthieu Bouchard. Our conversation suggests there may be more complexity here than originally believed.”
No shit, Matthieu thought. Though he doubted Kieran had told the commissioner the whole truth.
“Still, the NHL takes any suggestion of impropriety or bribery with the utmost seriousness. The league has a zero-tolerance policy for influencing the outcome of a game, whether directly or indirectly. We are launching a full and independent investigation into this matter. Effective immediately, Kieran Lloyd is suspended without pay pending the outcome.”
Not surprising. From the stunned look on Kieran’s face, it clearly was to him. Matthieu hated how badly he wanted to comfort him. But damn it, he’d done this to himself. To both of them.
“Because the Situation Room upheld the on-ice call and no evidence of team-wide misconduct has been found, the Inferno may continue in the playoffs without Mr. Lloyd. We are committed to uncovering the truth.
“Now, Mr. Lloyd has prepared a brief statement.”
