Page 141 of Make Me Yours
I swipe to answer.
“Hey,” I say.
His voice crackles through the line. “You at the arena?”
“Yup. Practice in forty.”
There’s a slight delay before he asks, “You doing okay?”
I scrub a hand through my hair. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“I saw the story,” Bridger says tightly. “The photo. No one who knows you believes any of that garbage. It’s nothing more than clickbait.”
“Some people do,” I murmur. “But they’re not the ones who matter.”
“It still pisses me off,” he mutters. “You’ve always kept your head down and your nose clean. And now they’re acting like you’re some violent asshole? It’s total bullshit.”
There’s a beat of silence between us before he asks, gentler this time, “How’s Lilah?”
I exhale. “About as well as you’d imagine.”
“That bad?”
“She’s holding it together,” I say. “But, yeah. It’s eating her up inside.”
“Give her our love,” Bridger says. “Seriously. Holland’s been fuming since she saw the post.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me do it. “Tell her we appreciate the support.”
Movement from my periphery catches my eye, and I glance up to see Rina entering the lower bowl of the arena. Her gaze sweeps the stands, and when it locks on me, she heads in my direction with a purposeful stride.
“I appreciate you checking in,” I tell my cousin, shifting on the chair. “But I gotta go.”
“Love you, man. Take care of yourself.”
“You too.”
I hang up just as Rina climbs the last step and settles beside me in the front row. She doesn’t speak right away, just stares out over the empty ice.
“I thought you’d be in the locker room by now.”
“I needed a minute,” I say, leaning back in the seat beside her. “What’s up?”
She hesitates, then sighs. “I heard about Peak Sportswear pulling out. I’m sorry.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Yeah. My agent called this morning with the news. They gave the usual ‘optics’ line—said I’m a PR liability and they’re reevaluating the direction of their brand. Translation? A grainy photo and a bunch of internet warriors with too much time on their hands were enough to make them run scared.”
She glances sideways at me. “Does Lilah know?”
I shake my head.
“Have you talked to her yet about making a statement?”
The anger that rises within me is sharp and immediate. “No.”
“Steele—”
“I’m not dragging her into this,” I snap before making a conscious effort to lower my voice. “She’s already in the middle of a firestorm. I’m not adding more fuel to it.”
