Page 15 of Touchdown Under the Mistletoe
She looks up at me with a soft smile that does things to my body it shouldn’t. “I know you won’t.”
Beau joins us, and we skate for another twenty minutes. Riley actually manages a few solo glides without holding onto me, and when she doesn’t fall, she throws her arms up in victory.
“Did you see that? I did it! I actually did it!”
“You’re a natural,” I say.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m definitely not the worst person on this rink anymore.” She gestures to a middle-aged man who’s currently sprawled on the ice while his wife tries to help him up. “See? That guy’s worse.”
“The bar is low, but you cleared it. I’m proud.”
She beams at me, and wow, I’ve missed this. Missedher. Missed how easy everything feels when we’re together. Missed how I can be Travis instead ofTravis Steelbird, NFL star. I wish it never had to end.
By the time we return our skates, I’m feeling better than I have in months. Lighter somehow. More relaxed and myself.
“Hot chocolate?” Beau suggests, pointing to Summit Sweet’s booth.
“Yes, please. With extra marshmallows for me,” Riley says.
“I’ll grab them. You two find a spot to sit,” Beau offers.
Riley and I find an empty bench near the rink and sit down. She’s still smiling, her cheeks pink from the cold and the exertion. Man, she looks so genuinely happy that I want to freeze this moment.
“Thank you for this. I needed it. I didn’t realize how much until now.”
“Yeah, me too,” I admit.
And then my phone buzzes in my pocket. Then buzzes again. And again.
“Wow, someone really wants to talk to you,” Riley says with a laugh.
I pull out my phone, and my stomach drops. Twelve missed calls from Maxwell, my agent. Fifteen text messages. And three voicemails.
“Everything okay?” Riley asks.
“I’m not sure.”
I tap on the voicemail, and Maxwell’s voice explodes through the speaker. “Travis, what the hell were you thinking? Call me back. NOW.”
I frown. Why should I have to call him? He knows I’m with my family for the holidays. He promised he wouldn’t call or text me.
But the second voicemail is even worse. “I’m serious, Travis. We need damage control ASAP. This is a disaster. CALL ME.”
I don’t even dare to listen to the third one. My hands are shaking as I open the text messages.
Maxwell:Check TMZ. Now.
Maxwell:You’re holding hands with someone who is NOT Sienna Montgomery.
Maxwell:Do you have ANY idea what this means for your contract???
Maxwell:The photos are everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
Maxwell:Call me, or I’m flying to Montana myself.
I open my browser and search for my name. The first result makes my blood run cold.
“NFL Star Travis Steelbird Spotted Getting Cozy with Mystery Woman. Is He Cheating on Sienna Montgomery?”
