Expose on the Ice (Sparks on the Ice #1)

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

LILY

P ausing to take a deep breath, I smooth down my blouse and then walk into the Frost Giants’ facility. My heart is racing, but I force a smile as I nod to a few familiar faces.

"Hey Lily," Ethan Hale calls out, giving me a friendly wave.

"Hi Echo," I reply, studying his expression carefully.

I search for signs of guilt, or for any indication that he might have been the one to leak my notes. But his affable, goofy grin reveals nothing suspicious at all. For a defenseman, he’s just about the nicest guy in the building, so I’d be shocked if he’d been the one to leak my notes.

But I have to suspect everyone.

As I make my way through the corridors, I greet a few more players and staff members. Each interaction leaves me scrutinizing their behavior, searching for any clue that might reveal the culprit. Nothing obvious sheds any light on the mystery, so it will need to be solved another day.

The press room is already buzzing when I arrive for Carter’s press conference. I slip into an empty seat near the back, pulling out my notebook and pen. My stomach churns as I glance around at my fellow journalists.

How many of them know about my fling with Carter?

Do they think I’d used off the record material?

I push the thoughts aside, reminding myself to focus. Since figuring out someone had leaked the contents of the notepad in my bag, but not the one in my apartment, my journalistic instincts have taken over again.

I’m here to do my job, regardless of the personal drama swirling around me. I have to maintain my professionalism, even if it kills me. I have to find out who the leak was, and hopefully protect Carter in the process.

The room falls silent as Carter walks in. My breath catches in my throat as I take him in. He looks… different. There’s a determination in his stride, a set to his jaw that I hadn’t seen before. This is a man on a mission.

But it’s also a man who is hurt.

And that makes my heart ache.

As he takes his seat at the front of the room, our eyes meet for a moment. A surge of energy courses through my body, memories of our kiss flooding back unbidden. But before I can decipher the emotion in his gaze, he looks away.

Mark Turner steps up to the podium, clearing his throat. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. Carter Knox has prepared a statement and will then take questions."

The room erupts in a flurry of camera clicks as Carter leans towards the microphone. I grip my pen tightly, my knuckles turning white as I wait for him to speak. I’m hoping he’ll come up with some magic to reduce the pressure on him, but I know whatever happens is only likely to turn the heat up.

"I’m here today," Carter begins, his voice steady and clear, "to address the recent article about my past and to set the record straight."

I feel my heart rate pick up. My mind flashes to the notebook in my apartment, with all the details I’d found that weren’t in the recent story. What is he going to reveal? Is he going to let the whole world in on the cover up?

"First, I want to clarify that I did not intend to contribute to that story," he continues. "Its publication has re-opened some old wounds."

My eyes widen at his words because I realize his eyes are locked on me.

"However," Carter pauses, "the information it contained was true. And I believe it’s time for me to tell my story, in my own words."

The room falls deathly silent, every reporter leaning forward in anticipation.

CARTER

"Six years ago, my sister Sarah and I were inseparable," I begin, my voice surprisingly steady. "She was my biggest fan, always cheering me on at games in college and high school. But one night, everything changed."

I pause, scanning the room. The reporters are hanging on my every word, pens poised over notepads. But my gaze keeps drifting back to Lily. She looks… devastated. Despite everything that had happened, seeing her pain twists something inside me.

"My father was driving us home from a late-night practice," I continue, forcing myself to focus. "It was raining, the roads were slick. He… he lost control of the car."

The words feel rehearsed, hollow. Because they are. I’d gone over this story countless times with my agent, making sure every detail aligned with the cover-up we’d maintained for years. But now, saying it out loud to a room full of strangers, it feels like a betrayal all over again.

"Sarah didn’t make it," I say, my voice finally cracking. "And I… I threw myself into hockey. It was the only way I knew how to cope. Everything in that article was correct, and I will now take questions."

Questions erupt from the crowd, a cacophony of voices demanding more details, more pain, more scandal. They’re like hyenas, circling for the kill. But as I scan the room, my eyes lock with Lily’s again. She isn’t one of these shit stains, interested in destroying me.

Because she could have done it way sooner.

I’d spilled my guts to her weeks ago.

Yet the story had only just come out.

And now?

She isn’t scribbling notes furiously like the others. She isn’t shouting questions or jockeying for position. Instead, she sits there, her green eyes locked onto me, filled with sympathy. It hits me then – the stark difference between her and the rest of the vultures in the room.

"How has this tragedy affected your relationship with your father?"

"Carter, do you blame your father for Sarah’s death?"

The questions keep coming, each one more invasive than the last. I answer them mechanically, but my mind is on Lily. The hurt in her eyes, the way she flinches at each probing question – it doesn’t match up with someone who would have leaked such personal information.

If she’d been the one to dig the knife in, she’d be celebrating right now.

The hero of the show, the one who’d ripped open Carter Knox.

Yet she looks miserable.

Her body language screams innocence.

"Look," I say, cutting off the barrage of questions. "I’ve spent years trying to move past this tragedy. It’s shaped who I am as a player and as a person. I’ve answered your questions, and now?—

LILY

I stand, waiting for the elevator, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The image of Carter at that podium, his jaw set and eyes determined, is seared into my brain. But I’d seen the cracks in his armor, the pain that flashed in his eyes with each invasive question.

God, I want to be there for him.

To stand beside him and face it all together.

Yet I’d lost that chance, hadn’t I?

I’d royally screwed things up with Carter. Even if I hadn’t been the one to leak the story, I’d still dug into his past without his permission. The betrayal in his eyes when he’d confronted me at the charity ball… it still haunts me.

But seeing him today, watching him bare his soul to the world, it had clarified something for me. My feelings for Carter go way beyond professional curiosity or even simple attraction. I care about him. Deeply. And I’m glad he hadn’t told the media anything about the truth I’d uncovered, and he kept close for years.

As the elevator finally comes and I step inside, alone, I don’t know what’s next for me. I won’t publish the information I know about the cover-up. It would be the story of my lifetime, but I won’t do that to Carter, no matter that he’s lost to me, and no matter how much I need to salvage my career.

I’ll burn the notes as soon as I get home.

Just before the elevator is due to depart, the doors slide open again, and my heart nearly stops. Carter steps in, looking spent. His broad shoulders are slumped, his usually perfectly styled hair disheveled. For a moment, neither of us speaks. The air crackles with tension – sexual, emotional, all of it.

I can’t take my eyes off him. Even exhausted and defeated, he’s breathtaking. His jaw is clenched as he stares straight ahead, and I want nothing more than to reach out and smooth away the lines of worry etched across his forehead.

The elevator begins its descent, the silence between us deafening. I fidget with the strap of my purse, desperate to fill the void. Then, my mind screaming at me to stop, I smash my palm against the emergency stop. The elevator halts its descent, cocooning us in.

Forcing him to listen.

"I didn’t leak it," I blurt out. "I swear to you, Carter. I would never do that to you."

He glances down at the button panel, seeming to consider pressing the stop button again, but then he turns to me then, his stormy gray eyes meeting mine. The intensity of his gaze makes my breath catch. Suddenly, the exhaustion I’d seen at the press conference podium is replaced by a fire and… a curiosity?

"My editor admitted it," I continue, the words tumbling out. "He said they used my notes, but I?—

"I know," Carter says quietly, effectively silencing me.

I blink, stunned. "You… you know? When did you figure it out?"

He nods. "During the press conference. The way you looked at me… it wasn’t the face of someone who’d scored the story of a lifetime, or who was responsible for me being torn apart by the pack of assholes."

Relief washes over me, chased by a fresh wave of guilt. "God, Carter, I’m so sorry. I never should have followed you home or spoken to Isla or… I just… I got caught up in trying to prove myself, in cracking your hard shell, and I lost sight of what really mattered."

Carter’s eyes soften slightly. "And what’s that?"

"You," I say without hesitation. "Your trust. Your… friendship."

CARTER

My mind is reeling as I stare at Lily. The sincerity in her eyes, the tremor in her voice – it all hits me like a puck to the head. It’s further confirmation she hadn’t betrayed me, no matter how her notes had ended up in the story. And here I am, feeling like the world’s biggest jerk for how I’d treated her.

"Lily, I— I start, but the words catch in my throat.

How can I even begin to apologize?

The elevator feels impossibly small, Lily’s presence overwhelming my senses. The scent of her perfume, the way her green eyes search my face, it’s all too much. I’d spent so long building walls, keeping everyone at arm’s length. But right now, those walls are crumbling.

"I’m sorry," I blurt out. "For accusing you, for pushing you away. I just… I’ve been carrying this weight for so long."

Lily’s hand reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently touching my arm. "Carter, you can talk to me. If you’d like to, I mean. Off the record. And, this time, I won’t write it down."

And just like that, the dam breaks.

"It was my fault," I whisper, the words I’d never spoken aloud finally escaping. "Sarah’s death. The accident. All of it."

Lily’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t interrupt. She just listens, her presence a silent comfort.

"We argued that night," I continue, the memories flooding back. "I was drunk, far too drunk to drive. But I insisted. Sarah tried to take the keys, but I… I pushed her away. I told her she could come with me, or walk home. We got in the car, and I…" My voice cracks. "I lost control. The next thing I knew, we were upside down, and Sarah wasn’t moving."

Lily’s hand tightens on my arm, grounding me.

"My parents, they… they covered it up and said my dad was driving. The local cops, my agent, they all helped make it go away. To protect my career." I laugh bitterly. "Some career, built on my sister’s death. But a million goals could never atone for what I did that night, and a million Stanley Cups couldn’t fill the hole inside me."

I meet Lily’s gaze, expecting to see disgust or judgment. Instead, I see only compassion.

"I’ve been living with this guilt for years," I admit. "Pushing everyone away, terrified that if anyone got too close, they’d see the truth. That I’m responsible for Sarah’s death."

Lily shakes her head. "Carter, it was a terrible accident. You were young, and?—

"And irresponsible," I finish. "But that doesn’t change what happened."

"I know," she says softly.

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. "Being around you... it makes me want to try to move forward. But I don’t know if I can, or if I deserve to."

Lily’s eyes widen, a mix of emotions flashing across her face.

I reach out, hitting the button to restart the elevator. As it lurches into motion, I turn back to Lily.

"I can’t keep holding this in," I say, my heart pounding. "If what I’ve told you ends up in the paper, I’ll understand. But if it doesn’t... maybe we could... try to figure things out. I don’t know."

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the parking garage. Before Lily can respond, I step out, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I’d laid it all out there – my darkest secret, my conflicted feelings.

Now, all I can do is wait and see what she’ll do with that information.