Page 29 of Pucking Knox
The draft combine schedule sits untouched on my kitchen counter while I check my phone for the hundredth time.
Still nothing from Kennedy.
Not that I'm waiting for her to text me. She's the one who stormed off at the gala. She's the one who tried to make this more than it is. She's the one who needs to apologize. Her silly little blackmail that I went along with was becauseI cockblocked her from a good guy like Harvey Reynolds. I hope she’s fucking joking.
The combine is in three weeks. Thirty NHL teams watching my every move, testing my strength, my speed, my control. I can't afford distractions. Can't think about soft green eyes or the way she feels in my arms or—
My phone buzzes.
I pick it up.
Not Kennedy.
"Your girl's all over the society pages," Wilson says when I answer. "You two looked perfect at the gala. Real power couple material."
The irony would be funny if it didn't hurt. "Yeah."
"Lots of attention is on you with this spotlight. Keep this up and you're looking at first round for sure. Teams love stability, and dating a senator's daughter? That's as stable as it gets."
Another text comes through as I hang up. My father.
Dad: Saw you in the paper with that pretty rich girl. Think she'd loan her boyfriend's old man some cash? Would be a shame if someone told her family about Christmas 2019...
My hand tightens on the phone.
Christmas 2019. The night I found him passed out in our front yard, bloody knuckles and someone else's wallet in his pocket. The night I helped him inside instead of calling the cops. The night I became an accomplice.
The night that could ruin everything – not just my draft chances, but Kennedy's reputation too. Her father's campaign. Her whole world.
"Yo!" Ace's voice makes me jump. He's letting himself in with his key, like always. "You alive in here?"
I shove my phone away. "Unfortunately."
"Haven't seen you since the gala." He drops onto my couch. "Or my sister, for that matter."
"Been busy. Combine prep."
"Uh huh." He studies me too carefully. "Everything okay with you two?"
"Fine." I grab two beers from the fridge. "Just focused on training."
"Yeah." He takes the beer but doesn't drink. "Because it looked like something happened at the gala. Kennedy came back inside alone, looking like she was about to cry. You disappeared completely."
Guilt twists in my gut. "Just a misunderstanding."
"Knox." His voice gets serious. "You're my best friend. She's my sister. If something's wrong—"
"Nothing's wrong." The lie tastes bitter. "Everything's exactly how it should be."
My phone buzzes again. Another threat from my father.
Dad: That campaign would hate a scandal right now.
"Actually." I stand abruptly. "Let's go out. Kappa Pi's having a party, right?"
"You want to go to a frat party? Three weeks before the combine? Right now?"
"I want to get drunk with my best friend and forget about hockey for one night."
