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

Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

LILY

S tealing glances at Carter across the table, I push my salad around the plate. The sun catches his dark hair, highlighting the relaxed set of his shoulders. It’s still surreal being out in public with him like this. No more sneaking around or pretending our relationship is purely professional.

"You going to eat that or just play with it?" Carter teases, reaching across to steal a cherry tomato from my plate.

I swat his hand away, laughing. "Hey! Just because you inhale your food doesn’t mean the rest of us have to."

He grins, popping the tomato into his mouth. "Gotta keep my strength up for tonight’s game."

"Oh please," I roll my eyes. "As if you need any help dominating on the ice."

Carter’s eyes soften, and he reaches for my hand across the table. My heart flutters as he squeezes it, and it’s moments like these that make me wonder how I’d ever thought I could maintain a professional distance from this man. He’s hot, he’s kind, and he’s mine .

"So," Carter says, his thumb tracing circles on my palm, "had any ideas yet on what you want to do next?"

I sigh, the familiar weight of uncertainty settling in my chest. "I don’t know. I’ve been enjoying the break and I’ve had one idea for a story, but…"

"But you miss it," he finishes for me.

I nod, surprised by how well he understands me. "Yeah, I do. But I just don’t know if I want to go back to journalism after everything that happened."

Carter opens his mouth to respond, but a sudden camera flash interrupts us. I blink, momentarily disoriented, before realizing what’s happening. They’ve arrived, as Carter said they might at some point, part and parcel of life in the spotlight.

Paparazzi.

They swarm around our table, cameras clicking furiously. Questions fly at us from all directions. They’re here for Carter, not me, but the experience is like a tsunami of attention suddenly aimed in my direction.

"Carter! Is this your new girlfriend?"

"How long have you two been together?"

I freeze, overwhelmed by the onslaught. But Carter’s grip on my hand tightens, grounding me. He stands up, gently pulling me with him, giving them nothing, saying nothing. As Carter shields me from the cameras, guiding me towards the exit, a thought strikes me.

This is my world now – our world.

The constant scrutiny, the invasive questions, the loss of privacy.

It’s a far cry from my days of chasing stories.

And it confirms the germ of an idea that’s already in my head.

"Carter," I whisper as we make our way to his car, "I think I know what I want to write about next."

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity replacing the annoyance on his face. "Yeah?"

I nod, excitement building in my chest. "What if I wrote about this? About what it’s really like for a professional athlete? And their partner? The good, the bad, the ugly – all of it."

Carter’s steps slow as he considers my words. "You mean, like, tell our story?"

"Not just ours," I explain, the idea taking shape in my mind. "But yeah, that would be part of it. I could interview other couples, explore the challenges and joys of this lifestyle. Give people a proper look."

As we reach his car, Carter turns to face me, his eyes searching mine. "It would mean putting our relationship out there for everyone to see."

I take a deep breath, realizing the weight of what I’m proposing. But the familiar itch to write, to tell a story that matters, is impossible to ignore. The pull is as irresistible as he is, and I’m warming to the idea more with each passing second.

"I’m sure if you are," I say softly. "What do you think?"

"I’m game if you are, Lil," he says. "Let’s do it."

"Thanks for your support, Carter," I say, leaning in to kiss him. "Now you better get to the game…"

CARTER

The adrenaline from our win courses through my veins as I step into the locker room. We’d played lesser competition, but we’d dominated. Yet as I pull off my jersey, I notice my phone lighting up like a Christmas tree, and suddenly all thoughts of the win recede.

My stomach drops.

This can’t be good.

With shaking hands, I pick up my phone. The screen is flooded with notifications – missed calls, text messages, and news alerts. My thumb hovers over the first one, dread settling in my gut like a lead weight. I tap the screen, and my world implodes.

"CARTER KNOX IMPLICATED IN FATAL ACCIDENT COVER-UP."

The words blur as I scroll through the article, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Every detail, every secret I’d tried so hard to bury, is laid bare for the world to see. The drunk driving, the switch, the lies – all of it.

"Shit," I mutter, running a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. "Shit, shit, shit."

I need to talk to someone, anyone. My fingers fumble as I try to call my agent. Straight to voicemail. Fuck. I try Lily next, but it just rings and rings. I slump onto the bench, my head in my hands. The bustling sounds of my teammates celebrating our win seem to fade away, replaced by a dull roar in my ears.

"Knox?"

I look up to see Mark in the doorway, his face grim.

"We need to talk," he says.

I follow him out of the locker room, my legs feeling like lead, and know it has nothing to do with exhaustion from the game. As we walk, Mark fills me in on the shitstorm that’s brewing, and it’s a big one.

"Lily’s former editor, Frank, outmaneuvered us," he says, his voice tight with anger. "He went over our heads to the league and told the commissioner about the boycott we’d threatened him and his paper with. The league took his side, saying all players are contractually obligated to cooperate with the media. If we don’t comply, there’ll be hell to pay."

I feel like I’m going to be sick. "What does that mean for me?"

Mark’s expression softens slightly. "It means you’re going to have to face this head-on, Carter."

I nod numbly, trying to process it all. The cover-up, the article, the league’s stance – it’s all too much. And where the hell is Lily? I need her now more than ever, and I don’t have a goddamn clue where she is, nor is she answering my calls.

"What about the team?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Does this change anything for me on the ice?"

Mark sighs. "We’re standing behind you, Carter. But this is big. There’s going to be an investigation... legal ramifications...."

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I know what he means. My career, everything I’ve worked for, is hanging by a thread. A league star covering up his involvement in a road accident that led to a death, then threatening the media with a boycott if it was reported, is a big deal.

As we reach Mark’s office, I feel a wave of loneliness wash over me. I’ve always kept people at arm’s length, afraid of getting too close, afraid of them discovering my secrets. But in the last few weeks, I’d let people in, and now, when I need support the most, I feel utterly alone.

I sink into a chair, my mind racing. How had it all fallen apart so quickly? Just minutes ago, I’d been on top of the world, having been out for a delicious dinner with Lily before hitting the ice for a game we’d won easily. And now…

"Carter?" Mark’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "We need to plan our next move."

"Do I have a choice?" I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Just tell me what I need to do..."

LILY

As I scroll through the article that has just shattered Carter’s world, my heart sinks. Every secret, every painful detail we’d fought so hard to protect, is now splashed across the screen for all to see.

My stomach churns with a sickening mix of guilt and dread. We’d been so sure we’d kept a lid on things with the threat of the player boycott, but the hammer has dropped, and now his world is on fire. I reach for my phone to call him, to be there for him, and–

My phone buzzes in my hand, startling me out of my spiraling thoughts. Frank’s name flashes on the screen, and I feel a surge of anger. Before I can decide whether to answer, my thumb has already swiped to accept the call.

"What do you want?" I snap, my voice trembling with barely contained fury.

Frank’s gravelly chuckle grates on my nerves. "Is that any way to greet your old boss?"

"Cut the crap, Frank. Why are you calling me?"

"I thought you’d like a heads-up on our next big story," he says, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "We’re going to dive deep into how the Frost Giants tried to squash this story. Conspiracy to cover up a crime, attempted commercial extortion, all coordinated by your lover boy Carter Knox, his teammates, and the coaches and management of the Frost Giants – it’s juicy stuff."

My blood runs cold. "You can’t do that."

"Oh, but I can. Unless…"

"Unless what?" I ask, already dreading the answer.

"Unless you stay away from Knox," Frank growls, all pretense of civility gone. "No more playing house. You’re done with him, understand?"

A second later, my phone pings. He’s silent, even as I open the text message he’s sent me and read it, the story that would do even more harm to Carter than the one about the cover-up. It would destroy him and the team, who’d only tried to protect him.

If I allow it to be printed.

I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. "Why are you doing this, Frank? Haven’t you done enough damage?"

There’s a pause, and when Frank speaks again, his voice is menacing. "Because I’m a vindictive old bastard, Lily. And I don’t like being played for a fool."

The line goes dead, leaving me standing there, my mind reeling. I sink onto the couch, my legs suddenly unable to support me. Frank’s threat echoes in my ears, mixing with the guilt and fear already churning inside me.

I know what I have to do. The thought of it makes me feel physically ill, but I can’t see any other way. To protect Carter, to shield him from any more pain and public scrutiny, I have to distance myself and leave him to face this storm alone.

My vision blurs with unshed tears as I stare at Carter’s name in my contacts. My finger hovers over the ‘delete’ button, but I can’t do it. Not yet. Instead, I type out a message, each word feeling like a knife to my heart:

"Carter, I’m so sorry. I can’t be part of this anymore. Please don’t contact me. I hope you’ll understand, some day. Goodbye."

I hit send before I can change my mind, then curl up on the couch, letting the tears finally fall. The weight of what I’ve just done crashes over me like a tidal wave. I’ve walked away from the man I love, all to protect him from further harm.

But as I lay there, my body wracked with sobs, I can’t shake the nagging feeling that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.