Page 112 of Cross-Checked

“No matter what happens,” Morgan says, “we’re here for you. Just try to block out the noise for the next few days, because people will have opinions, whether they’re entitled to them or not.”

When we’re off our call, I text Frank and Sarah with an update and a link to my statement.

Frank

This is the right statement, given the situation. Go for it.

Sarah

Hold up.

Yes, the statement is good as is. But I think this needs to come from the Rebels, so it’s clear that the organization is aware and supporting you in this.

I’d like to update PR and have them send the statement out to the media, immediately. Are you both okay with that?

Frank

Sounds like a smart move.

This is all happening so fast; I want to pause for a minute to just breathe. I hate that I feel like I’m spiraling, like there’s a crisis that I’m trying to manage before it’s a catastrophe, all because Chet won’t stay out of my life.

But I don’t have the time to pause because we need our statement to go out before Chet can say anything, so it appears proactive, rather than reactive.

AJ

Go for it.

I hope I don’t regret this,I think as I toss my phone and it clatters onto the desk.

“Everything okay?”

I jump at the sound of McCabe’s voice behind me, and spin in the chair to find him sitting on the couch, legs spread, elbows on his knees. His tuxedo jacket is off, the bowtie is gone, andthe top few buttons are undone. With his sleeves rolled up and his muscular forearms on display, he looks like dessert, and I’m suddenly starving.

Get your fucking hormones under control. This is a crisis, not the start of a sex scene.

“Yeah, it’s out of my hands now.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the Rebels are going to release the statement. Morgan said the best thing we can do is stay off social media for the next few days. Oh, and she wants to take some pictures of us when we’re back in Boston—domestic stuff like us playing with Abby, to use on social media and release to the press.”

He clears his throat. “That’s fine, but we’re not staging them. The way you are with Abby—the way you play with her, and feed her, and rock her to sleep—you treat her like she’s your own kid. Morgan can capturethosepictures, not something that looks forced. I don’t want anyone claiming that your relationship with Abby is just for show.”

“People will say it anyway, Ronan. You need to prepare yourself for that. There will be people who love this for us, and there will be haters. The haters will be way louder.”

He tilts his head, looking at me like he’s assessing me. Then he looks down at his hands, before looking back at me. “You’re scared.” It’s not a question.

“I’d be a fool to act like this isn’t going to be a big deal. I know I seem like I don’t give a shit what people think, but deep down, I don’t know...” I look out the window, but all I see is the darkness of the office buildings that surround us. “I like being successful. I like being good at what I do. I like the respect and admiration it’s always granted me. And the thought of losing that?—”

He stands so abruptly that I stop speaking, and in a few quick steps, he’s in front of me, kneeling. “You’re wound so tight about this, I’m afraid you’ll snap.”

“You would be too if your whole career was on the line.”

“My whole careerison the line, AJ. And after I just accidentally revealed our relationship when Frank wanted us to wait, it’s even more unlikely he’ll keep me next year. You're not the only one who stands to lose something here. Butyouare the one thing I cannot stand to lose. So if this contract with Boston doesn’t work out, I may retire early.”

“What? No!” My whole body involuntarily pulls back from his embrace, but he doesn’t let me go. What the hell is he talking about? He’s one of the best forwards in the league. Hecan’tretire early.

I stare up at him. “You can’t do that.”

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