Page 111 of Slap Shot Scandal
Weston strides over, a hand shoved in his pocket, and Ford goes the other direction.
“Shit…” I whisper as soon as Weston’s by my side. His jaw’s tense, worry lines furrowing his brow.
“It’s handled. He won’t say anything.” He doesn’t reach out to touch me and I feel the absence acutely.
I hate this.
“I’m sorry.” I press my lips together, regret rolling through me.
“Harbor, this isn’t your fault. And it’s going to be fine. Trust me.” His deep blue eyes meet mine and he’s so sincere, I almost believe him.
Almost.
But now we have to go back out there and pretend nothing happened. Smile. Laugh. Act like my career’s not hanging by a thread that could snap at any second.
“Harbor! There you are—I’ve been looking all over for you!” Piper rushes up to me, glowing. Cheeks rosy, she’s definitely had more than one drink. Bennett’s right behind her, grinning.
“Hey, guys. Party’s bumping now. Let’s dance.” Hehooks his thumb at the patio door and Piper claps her hands together like a high school cheerleader.
“Yessss! I love dancing.”
Grabbing Bennett’s hand, the two of them bolt outside. Weston and I exchange a wary glance and follow.
The night keeps getting better.
The DJ’s pumping hip hop, so loud my eardrums ring the second I step outside. The night air’s warm and humid, my skin instantly sticky. Bennett and Piper grind together, dancing in the center of a much larger, drunker crowd than before Weston and I went upstairs.
Weston leans down, his lips inches from my ear so I can hear him over the music.
“Want me to break that up?”
“No, it’s fine. Piper’s a big girl. She can handle herself.”
“Okay. Say the word and I’ll stop him.”
I can’t worry about my sister right now. All I’m thinking about is Ford and what he saw upstairs. What he’s going to say to his teammates, the coach.
Sure, Weston said he handled it. But did he really?
Only time will tell—and I hate leaving things to chance.
“Harbor, right?”
There’s a tap on my arm and I spin toward the voice.
Wonderful.
Victoria Prince. The Ice Queen herself. Here, at the party that’s going very wrong, very fast.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
“Hey! Yeah, it’s Harbor. How are you, Victoria?” I force my lips into a smile, my face so tight there’s little chance I’m coming off as sincere.
Thank god it’s dark.
“Please, call me Tori. I heard about the little get-together. Thought I’d pop by and see what’s going on.”She casts her eyes around the lawn, taking in the keg, the DJ, the growing crowd. “Good times.”
She sounds less than amused.
