One Pucking Secret (One Pucking #1)

Chapter 26

Wyatt

My phone lights up with Sonia’s message, the words almost vibrating with impatience.

Sonia: Downstairs .

I thumb the response quickly, adrenaline sharpening each tap on the screen.

Wyatt: I’ll buzz you in.

“She’s in,” I announce to Zach, who’s perched on the edge of the couch like some kind of guardian. His sharp green eyes meet mine, reading the tension that I’m sure is etched into every line of my face. I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I try to steady the thunderous beat of my heart.

“Chloe got Alec’s recording,” I add, gripping onto that news like a lifeline. That’s one score for us, but now it’s my turn to take the shot.

Zach rises, his muscles tensed, concern shadowing his expression. “You sure you can do this?” The captain stepping up, even off the ice .

I give him a nod that’s more determination than confidence. “I have no other choice. This isn’t just to clear my name. I’m doing this for Chloe and Jasper.” For the life that we could have—one without lies and manipulations.

“Alright.” Zach claps a hand on my shoulder, a silent pact between brothers-in-arms. “I’ll head into the bedroom and watch the security feed from there. If something happens, I’ll come out.”

“Thanks, man.” A sense of relief flickers through me, knowing Zach has my back.

I let out a small breath, feeling the weight of my earlier suspicions lift. I’m so glad I didn’t accuse him. A pang of regret nudging at me. Deep down, I knew Zach wouldn’t betray me. I was a fool to even doubt it.

Zach gives me a firm nod, his lips pulling into a reassuring smile. “You got this,” he says, clapping my shoulder again before heading toward the bedroom.

The sound of the doorbell slices through the quiet apartment, pulling me toward the inevitable confrontation.

Showtime.

The door swings open, and there she is, Sonia Drake in the flesh—blond curls bouncing with every calculated step, her caramel eyes scanning the room like she’s making sure we’re alone. She’s wearing that practiced look of concern one might mistake for genuine if they didn’t know any better.

“Hey,” I say, my voice rough around the edges, a testament to the sleepless nights that have taken their toll. I feel the weight of this masquerade pressing down on me as I usher her into the living room.

“Is Chloe not here?” Sonia’s voice is smooth, honey-dipped curiosity laced with an edge I know too well.

I let out a sigh, raking a hand through my hair before collapsing onto the couch—a gesture of defeat I’m not accustomed to displaying. “No, she… she left.” The words taste bitter, but I swallow the lie smoothly. “For good.”

Sonia takes a seat beside me, close enough for me to catch the faint scent of her perfume, a mixture of citrus and determination. “I saw your game last week,” she says, tilting her head. “And everything in the press…”

It’s like I can see the script behind her eyes, the one she’s been writing since she first set her sights on me. “Yeah,” I murmur, playing my part. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.” She seems pleased by this, so I continue .

I let out a dramatic exhale. “With everything going on, it’s got me thinking a lot about who should be in my corner. You may have said some things about me online, but I know it’s because you care, and I hurt you.”

“Really?” She adjusts herself to face me.

I nod. “You were just being real when no one else around me was, especially Chloe. It made me realize you’re the one person who understands me the most. I’m sorry for what I put you through.” The lie tastes like ash on my tongue.

Her smile widens, but there’s a predatory gleam in her gaze. “I always knew you’d come back to me,” she coos, placing a hand over mine. It’s warm, soft, and entirely unwelcome.

I shrug off her touch, feigning a shudder of despair. “There’s something else, though.” My voice drops, a leaden whisper as I lean in. “The drug test… The public scrutiny has become too much. I’m thinking about quitting hockey.”

“What?” The word escapes her lips like steam from a pressure valve. “You can’t be serious. Hockey is your dream!”

“Was my dream.” I shake my head, eyes fixed on some unseen point in the distance.

“But now? ”

“I’ve been considering that. I think it might be best if I retire while I’m still ahead.”

Panic flickers across her face, a crack in the facade she’s worked so hard to maintain. “Wyatt, you can’t. Think about your career, your fans—”

“My reputation is already tarnished. Besides, none of it matters if I have you, Sonia.”

“Think about what you’re saying!” Her voice rises, tinged with desperation. But I remain unmoved.

“It’s okay, Sonia.” I stand up, stretching out the stiffness of my charade. “I’ve made up my mind.”

She stands too, her composure cracking as the reality of losing her grip on my fame sinks in. But I’m already turning away. This is the power play where I don’t bend, and she doesn’t win.

She collapses back onto the couch, her golden curls bouncing, eyes wide and shimmering with fear. “It was Alec,” Sonia breathes out, voice barely a thread in the tension-filled room. “He orchestrated the whole thing, Wyatt. I was just… pulled along for the ride. ”

“What do you mean?” I prompt, my heart thundering against my ribs like a caged beast ready to burst.

“Everything—the rumors, the setup—it was all him.” Her voice cracks as she clutches her hands together, knuckles whitening. “He said it was the only way to get what we wanted. But I didn’t know he’d go this far.”

My fingers twitch, eager to end this charade. “And you went along with it because?”

“Because he convinced me we’d be untouchable!” she cries out, caramel eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “I was desperate for you to come to your senses and take me back. I have a whole thread of messages and screenshots to expose Alec for what he’s done to you. I swear, Wyatt, I never wanted to hurt you—”

“Enough.” The word slices through the air, sharp and final. I stand, shaking off the last vestiges of pretense. “It’s been enough for quite a while, Sonia.”

Her eyes widen, her hands reaching out in a last attempt. “Wyatt, I—”

“Save it.” I pull my phone from my pocket, its screen bright and glowing with the truth. “I’ve got every word, Sonia. It’s over. ”

She stumbles to her feet, her face draining of color. “You recorded this? That’s illegal—you can’t record me without my permission!”

Wyatt’s expression hardens, unyielding. “Kind of like it’s illegal to manipulate photos to destroy someone’s life? Relax, I’m not using this in court.” He lets the words settle, his gaze cold. “But if this recording were to accidentally leak, I wonder what your fans would think of the real you.”

Sonia’s mouth falls open, her voice reduced to a hiss. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He gives her a look, unflinching. “Try me.”

The bedroom door swings open, and Zach steps out, his presence filling the room like a silent guardian. “You heard the man,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Zach?” Her voice is a wisp of disbelief. “You were in on this too?”

“From the start,” he confirms with a slight nod. “Wyatt’s my best friend, after all.”

“Damn you both! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” With a feral screech, Sonia bolts for the door, slamming it behind her with a resounding crash that echoes in the hollow aftermath.

“Thanks, man.” I clasp Zach’s shoulder .

“Anytime.” He smirks, then follows Sonia out, making sure her exit is as swift as her rise to infamy.

Alone, I exhale a long-held breath and send a text to Chloe.

Wyatt: Mission accomplished.

Chloe: Amazing! Almost home .

A smile tugs at my lips, and the ice around my heart begins to thaw. We’re close now, so damn close to righting all the wrongs.

A few minutes later, the door swings open, and there’s Chloe—her smile is a beacon in the dim light of the entryway. I don’t hesitate. In three strides, I sweep her into my arms, and the world spins with us at its center, my heart hammering a victory beat. Her laughter rings in my ears, more beautiful than any arena chant.

“Let’s celebrate,” I declare as her feet find the floor again. Her green eyes shine in the revelry of our shared triumph.

“Sparkling water?” The word is barely out before I’m moving toward the kitchen, propelled by an energy that feels like it could light up the city.

“And some takeout,” she calls after me, her voice dancing through the air. “Your choice.”

“I’m on it,” I reply, thumbing my phone to life. The screen’s glow casts a soft light as I scroll for something indulgent, something worthy of this moment.

I hear the clink of glass as Chloe opens a bottle. I glance back to see her leaning against the counter as she fills two glasses with ice and sparkling water.

“We should start making phone calls to set up a meeting in the morning,” Chloe says, already flipping through her contacts with determined grace.

“Right.” I nod as the pieces fall into place. With our dinner order set, I pocket my phone and join her, accepting the glass she offers with a grateful smile. We toast silently, the bubbles of the water teasing our noses and mingling with the sweet scent of victory. Tonight, we’re more than partners, we’re architects of our future, crafting what comes next: one call, one sip, one moment at a time.

“Okay,” she breathes out, her last call wrapping up as the scent of garlic and sesame sneaks under the door. “All set.”

“Perfect timing.” I push off from the couch. The hallway feels shorter than usual, anticipation pulling me forward .

The delivery guy at the door nods with a knowing smile. My regular takeout spot never fails to deliver comfort wrapped in foil containers. Tonight, it’s more than just food, it’s a feast marking the eve of a final battle.

“Everything is confirmed for the morning,” Chloe says as she rises from the couch, and I can’t resist the spark of hope threading through me.

“Great. Now come over here. Let’s really celebrate.”

“Count on it.”

In the kitchen, I set the spread across the counter, unveiling dishes of steam and spice. Our makeshift banquet is ready, an assortment of flavors that somehow speaks to triumph.

Her smile is a beacon as she approaches, green eyes sparking with the same fierce determination that carried us through the storm. She’s not just the woman I’m falling for, she’s my partner in the trenches. And as she closes the distance between us, the weight of all we’ve endured seems to lift.

“Almost there,” I say, catching her hand and pulling her into the circle of my arms.

“Almost,” she echoes, her agreement wrapping around us as tightly as my arms around her waist.