Page 94 of Rebel Bride
Summer
* * *
I spent the rest of the afternoon running errands for Kennedy, that is, doing something that wasn’t self-destructive or bad for my mental well-being. I would like to say I hadn’t known what I was doing back in that locker room, that I was overcome with emotion and my hormones ruled the day—and while some of that might hold water, the bottom line was that I was not the nicest person. I was using Hatch to make myself feel better, and that wasn’t fair to him.
Three dog walks and a grocery delivery later, I headed back to Rosie and Adeline’s place. I couldn’t call it my home, which made me wonder what the hell I was doing here. Dash was right: the Rebels wouldn’t rehire me. Scott Kincaid had emailed to tell me that it was best I no longer do any reports for him—I suspected Ryder told him to stop using my free labor—and now that avenue was closed. I was relying on Ryder to come through with a job at another franchise, which meant if I was serious about working in pro hockey, I would need to leave Chicago. As grateful as I was to the girls for keeping me afloat, I couldn’t mooch off them for much longer.
As soon as I opened the door, the smell of cooking made my mouth water and the sound of voices made me anxious. We had company.
A tall, dark-haired guy I didn’t recognize exited the bathroom and caught my eye. He had a hot nerd thing going on, though I was probably swayed by the glasses.
“Hello there,” he said.
“Hi, I’m Summer.” Though I’m sure he knew. Everyone did.
“Ah, the new roommate. Nice to meet you. I’m Sean, Addy’s uncle.”
Also Hatch’s, as well as Jason Isner’s brother and Theo’s half-brother. The Kershaw family tree was a many-horned beast. He wasn’t looking at me oddly, so I wondered if maybe he was the only person on planet Earth who hadn’t heard about my dash from Dash.
“Nice to meet you, too. Who else is here?”
“My brother Jason and Lauren—do you know Lauren?”
“I do.” Lauren Yates was the sister of Sadie, my wedding dress designer, sister-in-law to Gunnar Bond, an ex-Rebels player, and Hatch’s agent. A former professional hockey player in the National Women’s League, she had come into the Rebels front office a few times to discuss her clients with Ryder.
Adeline appeared in the corridor to the kitchen. “Hey, roomie! Just in time for dinner.”
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”
“Don’t be silly. This is for you.”
I blinked. “It is?”
“After all that BS in the gossip rags, we figured we’d invite a few people over. Nice, normal, but likely ragingly curious people. So, apologies in advance. Grab yourself a margarita and go mingle until the tacos are up.”
Sean smiled. “I can get you a drink. Go on ahead.”
I went into the living room, holding my breath. Don’t let him be here. Don’t let him be here.
He was not. My traitorous heart went splat with disappointment.
Lars came forward, hugged me, and growled in a very Lars-way, “Carter’s a dick.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s mighty kind of you to say so.” If I’d heard this before I spoke with Dash earlier, I would have made excuses for him. But no more. That didn’t make what happened with Hatch in that locker room right, but I needed to move on from the shame.
Lars thumbed over his shoulder. “You know these guys, right?”
“I do.” I nodded hello at Jason and Lauren and tried not to imagine what they thought of me. Since leaving my hometown ten years ago, I’d been trying to find a place. Fit in. Yet here I was standing out like a sore thumb.
“Can’t believe I considered representing Carter,” Lauren said. A tall brunette, she had a bright-eyed, mischievous look that belied a tough-as-nails negotiator. “He told me he would only sign on if I could guarantee him a designer fragrance or a watch deal. Looks like we both dodged a bullet.” She punctuated that with a cheeky wink, which made me chuckle.
“Like the guy needs endorsements,” Jason said. “He’s richer than God.”
“It’s not just about endorsements,” I said. “Goodwill can be just as important. Dash would have liked to be associated with a brand that made him look better. I suggested he volunteer with some charities, but he said it would be easier to write a check.”
“And that’s why he’s playing the victim in the press,” Lauren said. “He knows that people look at him and think, ‘rich hockey player who has more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime, I wonder what’s wrong with him? Why would any girl not want to be with that?’ So he goes on the offensive.” Lauren squeezed my arm, though I barely knew her. “Anyone in the business who knows Carter will see right through it. Unfortunately, the readers of those rags are mostly not in the business.”
Lars frowned, then looked at me. “But you don’t have to care what they think.”
