Page 124 of Slap Shot Scandal
The best part? I get to a zero inbox.
#goals.
Life’s not exactly great, but it’s manageable. Doable. Livable.
I’m at the office sipping my first cup of coffee and flipping through photos from last night’s practice to be used in the pre-game montage. I linger on the photo of Weston—he’s crouched down over the puck, sweat beading on his brow. Intensity radiates off the screen and I click the box to select the image.
A knock on my door jerks me out of my trance.
“Come in.” I don’t bother turning around, still buried under a stack of player bios demanding the perfect image.
“Harbor, you’re going to want to see this.”
Julianne, one of the PR assistants, hands me her cell. Her voice is oddly flat. Off. My stomach clenches, the coffee swirling.
I glance at the screen and my blood runs ice-cold.
A video thumbnail, frozen.
Me and Weston.
He’s leaning in, hand on my waist, forehead nearlytouching mine. I’m gazing up at him, lips parted, dress sliding off my shoulder.
The hallway behind us is Weston’s house. That same night. Right after we slipped out of his bedroom.
Different angle, even worse optics.
We never saw a camera, didn’t think to confiscate cell phones.
I swallow hard, my vision tunneling.
Because that caption? Already viral.
Turns out the team’s biggest distraction was in-house.
#Steelescandal #CrushersCrisis #offside #fraternizingmuch
Vomit rises in my throat and I lean over, retching into the trash can next to my desk. Waves of nausea roll through me and sweat beads at the nape of my neck.
No.
No, no, no.
Not after everything we just went through. We weathered the storm, things were practically back to normal. The season’s locked and loaded.
And now this.
Julianne rubs my back, her light touch a physical reminder she’s still here, watching me unravel.
I’ve never lost my grip like this before.
You’ve never been personally involved before.
In love with the captain of the team.
Swiping at the corner of my mouth, acid burning my throat, I sit up. Black dots dance at the corner of my vision and I’m hot and dizzy.
“Harbor…” Julianne’s voice is quiet and far away. The room spins and I close my eyes, praying this is a nightmare. Soon, very soon, I’ll wake up and this will all be over.
