Page 54 of Puck King
“If you say so.” Hollie’s eyebrows were raised as she took a sip of her wine. “But why aren’t you at the game tonight if you two are a…thing?”
I had wondered that myself. “Colton said Everleigh would get me tickets, but their box was full.” I shrugged and pretended it hadn’t bothered me. “Also, I need a place to sleep.” I gestured to the half put together bed. “Now, tell me what’s going on with you and that hot barista.” I changed the subject before she could continue her interrogation.
It was Hollie’s turn to blush. “We’ve been hanging out.”
I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to the world around me. I had been so swept up in the Kings’ world, that I had completely ignored my own. “Tell me everything.” We stood, and the two of us dropped the mattress onto the wooden slats, then fell onto our backs on top of it. There was a creak and a groan, but it held together.
By the timeHollie left to go out, we had assembled all my furniture, and drank all the wine. And Colton still hadn’t messaged. I frowned at my phone as I squinted at the screen in the early morning darkness.Don’t worry, I whispered to myself.Everything is fine. But my stomach was telling me otherwise.
That’s just the hangover talking, I whispered to myself. Our new apartment was small. It had to be if we were going to live near the stadium and still be able to afford food. I padded to the fridge, knowing that it was going to be empty, but hoped that somehow the food fairy had visited overnight. I sighed at the cold emptiness.
I threw on my down coat and stepped into my big winter boots. The beauty of winter in the city meant big coats and boots hid whatever terrible outfit I was wearing underneath. In this case, the clothes I’d slept in.
As I returned to the building with a coffee and BLT, I paused at a newsstand. The photos should’ve been leaked to the press the day before, but there wasn’t a familiar face on any of the covers. I set my coffee on the newsstand and flicked through the tabloid closest to me.
Nothing.
Weird, I thought to myself.
“Lady, are you going to buy that, or pull up a chair?” The man stocking the stand crossed his arms. I tucked the magazine under my arm and handed him the five bucks. Maybe I had just missed the page.
Back at home, I brushed the crumbs from my hands and flicked through the magazine page by page. Still nothing.
I typed ‘Colton King, new girlfriend’ into the search engine on my phone, but the only articles that came up were of him and various ex-girlfriends. Looking at Colton with models was like looking at someone I didn’t know. Somehow Hollie’s voice – her warnings, sounded in my head. But I believed Colton when he told me he hadn’t cheated. Why would he lie?
The article on the screen led to another about Colton’s father, William King, and a discussion about whether infidelity was an inherited trait. I hadn’t known all the details about Colton and Everleigh’s father, but everything Colton had said about wanting to be different from his father made sense now. No wonder he was so hurt at being labeled a cheater.
It also explained why Everleigh was so cold. Both the King kids seemed to have this innate desire to please their father. I wondered if it was some kind of competition between the two of them. But as I set my phone down, tears pricked at the side of my eyes. They weren’t competing with each other for his affection, they were competing with other women.
After showering and getting ready for work, there was still no message from Colton.
Three of the Thunder players had physio appointments that day, and I rushed to get to the treatment room. My mom called as I walked down the noisy street. I’d taken care of the last month’s mortgage payment on the farm, but the next one was coming up. I assured her that I’d have the cash on time, and mentally prepared myself to ask Everleigh for an advance on the next payment.
As I hung up the phone with my mom, a text message notification pinged. My heart skipped a beat, but only briefly. It was the wrong King. Everleigh had sent a meeting request for the afternoon. I accepted the request, but wondered what the hell she wanted.
The mornings were my favorite time to be in the arena. For a building capable of housing tens of thousands of screaming fans and a state of the art sound system, it could also be the quietest place in the city. With the street noise behind me, the only sound was of my boots clicking on the concrete up the stairs.
I fumbled around in my bag looking for the keys to the office when a hand clamped over my mouth and a strong arm wrapped across my body.
Before I could scream, my attacker growled into my ear, “Shhhh.”
Twenty-Five
Colton
WasI afraid Alison would punch me in the balls or kick me in the shins?
Yes. But Everleigh was within earshot.
“It’s me,” I whispered into her ear.
Her body relaxed.
“Don’t say anything.” I let go of her mouth and pushed the door to her office open, gesturing for her to go inside.
She turned to me as I shut the door behind us. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands were balled into fists. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.
“Shhh.” I put my finger to my lips. “I don’t want Everleigh to know that I’m in here.”
