Page 91 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
What followed was a symphony of desperate touches, breathless moans, and whispered demands as we celebrated his victory in the most primal way possible. By the time we collapsed, sweaty and sated, the analytical part of my brain had completely surrendered to pure sensation.
"I'm beginning to see the appeal of away games," I mumbled into his chest, tracing lazy patterns on his skin.
Austin's arms tightened around me. "Having you here makes everything better."
I fell asleep feeling like I'd finally found where I belonged—in the arms of a man who loved both my brilliant mind and my chaotic heart.
The bubble burst the next morning over room service coffee.
"What the fuck is this?" Austin growled, staring at his phone with an expression I'd only seen directed at opposing players who'd committed particularly egregious fouls.
"What?" I asked, reaching for the device. He hesitated before handing it over.
The headline made my stomach drop
DR. KATHERINE ELLIS: SCIENTIST OR HOCKEY BUNNY? CAREER TAKES BACKSEAT TO NHL BOYFRIEND
"Oh no," I whispered, scanning the article with growing horror. It described my "excessive" celebration at the game, questioning whether my scientific career was "merely a hobby" while I followed my hockey player boyfriend around the country. Worse, it quoted "lab sources close to Dr. Ellis" suggesting my work was suffering due to my relationship.
"'Lab sources?'" I read aloud, my voice shaking. "Who the hell would—" I stopped as realization dawned. "Chen. That pretentious asshole."
Austin was already on his feet, pacing the room like a caged predator. "This is bullshit. Complete fucking bullshit. I'm calling the team's PR department."
"No," I said firmly, setting the phone down. "Don't."
"Kate, they're attacking your professional reputation. I can't just?—"
"Yes, you can," I interrupted, standing to block his path. "This is my career, Austin. My battle to fight."
He stopped, frustration evident in every line of his body. "I hate that they're using me to undermine you."
"Welcome to being a woman in science," I said grimly. "Our competence is constantly questioned, especially when we dare to have personal lives."
I picked up my laptop, determination replacing the initial shock. "Hand me my phone. I need to draft a response."
For the next hour, I worked methodically, pulling up my publication list, citation statistics, and research metrics. Austin watched in silence, occasionally refilling my coffee.
"There," I said finally, pushing back from the table. "Professional, factual, and just a hint of 'fuck you' between the lines."
Austin read over my shoulder, his breathing gradually steadying. "This is... impressively restrained."
"I've learned that in academia, the most devastating response is cold, hard data." I clicked send on the email to the publication, then opened my social media accounts to post a series of updates about my recent research achievements.
"And now," I announced, closing my laptop, "I'm going to post about bacterial conjugation and enzyme kinetics until everyone remembers I'm a scientist first and your girlfriend second."
Austin pulled me to my feet, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper. "You're extraordinary," he said simply.
"I know," I replied, attempting to lighten the mood. "That's why you're sleeping with me."
He didn't laugh. Instead, his hands framed my face with unexpected tenderness. "No, Kate. That's why I'm in love with you."
Later, as we prepared to leave for the arena for Austin's second game, my phone buzzed with messages from colleagues who'd seen the article—and my response.
"Dr. Barnes says, and I quote, 'Excellent utilization of empirical evidence to counter unfounded assertions. The department stands behind you.'" I grinned at Austin. "That's basically her version of 'you go girl.'"
Austin wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my head. "You okay?"
I considered the question carefully. "I'm learning that being with you means parts of my life become public property. It's not ideal, but..."
