Page 29 of If You Claim Me
This feels better, more like the me-and-Flip I’m used to. “Exceedingly mortified.” At least the boy was. Everly was more annoyed than anything.
Once Flip finishes eating his way through his appetizer smorgasbord, he pays for lunch, despite my telling him I can buy my own meal, then hops on the subway with me.
He pulls his ballcap low and moves a discarded newspaper, offering me the inside seat. I slide in and his knee spills into the aisle, along with half the left side of his huge body.
He glances down at the paper. Connor and I stare back at him. I have no idea where they managed to snag that photo, but at least it’s not a bad one.
The headline is another story:
Hockey’s Most Hated Player Engaged!
“Connor looks like a serial killer,” Flip mutters.
I elbow him in the side.
“Not always, but here he does.” He grabs the paper and scans the article. “Which I’m sure was intentional with that headline. I can’t believe you’re in the freaking newspaper.”
“Better me than you.” I arch a brow and pluck the paper from his hand, tucking it into my purse.
“I haven’t had bad press in a while,” he says defensively.
“I know.” I pat his arm. “I’m proud of you.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t deserve an award for keeping my dick in my pants.”
A businessman side-eyes us.
“No, but you do deserve recognition for realizing it was yourself and the people you care about most that you were hurting by making choices that left you feeling hollow.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” He gives me a sad smile. “But I didn’t ruin Rix and Tristan’s relationship, or my relationship with either of them, so something good came out of all that bad.”
“Silver lining, right?”
“I get why Connor feeds into it, though,” Flip adds quietly.
“The negativity?” I ask.
“Yeah. After a while, you just start believing everything you read, like it’s the sum of who you are as a person, and my past supported that belief, just like Connor’s does.” He sighs. “We’re all wearing masks, aren’t we? Hiding the parts we don’t want people to see.”
“Every single one of us,” I agree. Connor wears a mask of indifference, but it’s a cover for his soft center.
We reach my stop, and Flip gets off with me.
“I can make it to the library from here just fine,” I remind him. “I do it five days a week.”
“I know, but you just got engaged to a high-profile hockey player that the media loves to rake over the coals, and his family is stupidly wealthy. I want you to feel safe if someone recognizes you.” He runs a hand through his hair and frowns. “I’m actuallysurprised Grace hasn’t hired a bodyguard, or a car to take you to work and back.”
“I have a car.”
He snorts. “That thing is held together with duct tape and a prayer. It’s a small miracle every time the engine turns over.”
“Public transit rarely lets me down. I don’t need a car service, and I sure as hell don’t need a security detail.” It would be impossible to go under the radar if that was the case.
Flip arches a brow.
“Seriously, I can handle myself.” We reach the doors to the library. “I’ll see you tonight for Bananagrams.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He hugs me, and I squeeze him back.
