Page 45 of Playing for Keeps

I pause at the door, not looking back because I know if I do, I'll crumble. "I'll think about it."

But we both know I'm already planning my escape. I will have to disappear for real this time, somewhere else. There must be some place outside my family’s influence. My father has always known exactly how to hurt me - by hurting the people I love. And I love Gunnar too much to let that happen.

The thought stops me cold. I love him. Really, truly love him.

Which is exactly why I have to leave.

For now, however, I retreat to the guest room and climb into the cold bed alone. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I ever fooled myself into believing this life was something I could attain.

CHAPTER 30

GUNNAR

It absolutely killedme not to follow Emerson to the other room last night. She said she needed space to think. Respecting that was probably harder than any conversation I’m about to have with Coach. I pace the apartment living room at dawn, already dressed for morning skate. My phone is pressed to my ear as I beg, "Mom, please. I'm worried she'll disappear if I leave her alone."

"Of course I'll come over." Mom's voice is steady, calming. "But honey, Emerson's not her parents. She chose to leave them. She chose you."

"I know, but—" I break off as I hear movement in the hall. Emerson emerges from the guest room, circles under her eyes matching mine. She freezes when she sees me.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Mom says. "Go to practice. Let me handle this."

I end the call and watch Emerson drift toward the coffee maker. "My mom's coming over."

She nods, not meeting my gaze. "You don't have to have someone babysit me. I won’t talk to the media.”

"It's not—" I step toward her, but she flinches. "Please just talk to her. She knows about dealing with hockey press."

Another nod. I want to grab her, hold her, and make her understand that none of this matters compared to losing her. But I've never felt so helpless. I swallow a giant lump in my throat. Fuck this. The two of us always connect physically. “Emerson, I need a hug,” I tell her, dropping my bag to the floor and holding out my arms. “Please?”

Her face shifts to a more familiar expression. Not exactly happy, but less miserable. She steps into my arms and melts against me as I hold her tightly. I inhale the scent of her hair and murmur into it, “I need a replacement hat soon for my locker. The one I have is running out of Salty smell.”

“Gunnar.” She pulls her head back and looks into my face. “How can you be thinking of smelly hats right now?”

I shrug and pull her close again. “Because all I think about is you, babe. You and I … we are special. In the end, we will come through this and all the bullshit will fade away. I know it.”

Her voice is muffled against my shirt, and I loosen my grip just a little so she can repeat whatever she said. “I wish I had your confidence about it.”

I kiss the tip of her nose. “I will inject confidence into you all evening if you’d like.” She smacks my chest. However, the crass joke has the desired effect of cutting the tension a bit. “Please be here when I get back. Please?”

She blinks away tears and nods, and I kiss her on the cheek before grabbing my things and heading out the door. I just hope my mom arrives at the apartment before Emerson decides to bolt. For once, I’m relieved that she doesn’t drive.

My own drive to practice is a blur. I'm barely inside the door when the twins materialize beside me.

"These haters are out of their minds," Tucker says, flipping off his phone and throwing it in his cubby.

"Total bullshit," Alder adds. "Everyone knows you're gone for Salty."

I start suiting up, grateful for their presence. "Brian thinks her father planted it."

"Fucking hell." Tucker slams his locker shut. "That's some next-level toxic shit. Not to mention, Ashley and Thompson never did anything to deserve that. That’s really fucked up, man.”

I nod. The three of us work on our pads, but the twins are finished well before me since they have less gear.

"Want us to have a talk with Em’s dad?" Alder cracks his knuckles. "Set the record straight?"

Despite everything, I almost smile. "Let's not add assault charges to this mess."

Grentley's sneer cuts through our conversation. "Trouble in paradise, Stag?" He stalks into the room, leaning against his locker, already suited up.

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