Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

47. Callie

47

CALLIE

“I’m sorry,” I sob into Owen’s neck.

This isn’t like me. I don’t cry and fall apart.

The night Owen and I met, I was borderline ready to freeze to death in my underwear on the balcony rather than let him help me.

Now, he’s carrying me to his car because I’m crying too hard to walk.

“It’s okay,” Owen whispers. I think he presses a kiss to the top of my head, but I could be imagining it.

“Is everything alright, sir?” a man asks. Owen holds me tighter, tucking my face against his chest so no one can see my face. “Do you need us to call for an ambulance?”

“No, I’m taking care of her. I’ll Venmo you for closing down for us. I appreciate it.”

The man, a manager by the sound of it, tells Owen not to worry about it. “The press has been out of control. I feel bad that you can’t live your lives in peace.”

Owen thanks him again, and we make our way to the front door. Just before we step outside, he cups my cheek, silently asking me to look up at him. His eyes are a stormy blue and my chest cracks open at the sight of him, so handsome and solid. Why did I have to mess everything up?

“Callie, it’s going to be chaotic out here. Just hang onto me, and I’ll get us out of here, okay?”

I nod and lean back into him. A second later, the door opens, and it’s like a bomb has gone off.

There’s noise everywhere—the popping and snapping of cameras, reporters shouting questions. Owen shields me with his body, but I feel him jostle as people crowd in on either side.

“Move!” Owen booms more than once. Then he lowers his voice, speaking only to me. “We’re almost there. Just hang onto me.”

But the reporters are relentless. They yell out, asking about paternity tests and money grabs.

I was scared to tell Owen about the baby because of how he’d react to me, but I didn’t even think about how everyone else would react. The consequences of this go so much farther than just the two of us.

That day in my office with Spencer rises to the forefront of my mind, along with a wave of bile, and I realize that some people could even speculate that he’s the father. They’d be wrong, but that won’t stop each and every rumor from skinning me down to my most vulnerable moment.

I need to tell Owen what happened. I need to prepare him for what might come next.

But the cameras keep clicking, the lights keep flashing, and people keep pushing. Now isn’t the time.

My heart leaps in my chest when I hear the door to Owen’s BMW unlock. Gently, he sets me on my feet and helps me inside. Owen cages me in, blocking me from the view of the cameras.

As soon as I’m in, he closes the door and jogs around the car. Reporters close in on either side, and I’ve never been so grateful for window tint.

“Are we going to be able to get out?”

“Oh, they’ll move.” He checks to make sure I’m buckled and then shoves the car into drive. “Or I’ll make them move.”

He inches the car forward, slowly at first, but the more he takes his foot off the brakes, the more they get out of the way.

Finally, we make our way out of the parking lot and he pulls onto the road. For the first time since I saw Owen standing in the bathroom, I can breathe.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

Hot tears flood my already burning eyes. “Yes, I do. If I’d been honest with you, this would’ve never happened. Any of it.”

Owen is quiet for a moment. Then he looks at me, his eyes soft. “If I hadn’t kicked you out, none of this would’ve happened.”

I stare down at my lap. “You had every right after what I did.”

“Not according to Summer,” he huffs. “I went to see her after you left.”

“Does she think I’m a terrible person, too?”

“No one thinks you’re a terrible person. Especially not Summer. She’s been where you are—pregnant and scared and alone.” His jaw clenches. “I shouldn’t have— I never should’ve pushed you out like that. I was just…”

“Scared?” I offer up. It seems to be all I’m capable of lately. Every decision in front of me, even the great ones, are terrifying.

He nods stiffly. “You have to understand, Callie. My desire to not be a shit dad goes way back. Almost every man in my life has been an example of what not to do. And I don’t want to be like that. It’s why I’m trying to take care of Summer. It’s why I want to protect you .”

Guilt washes over me in a hot wave. Even after everything Owen has done for me, I kept expecting him to be the worst version of himself—the person I thought he was, instead of the man he’s shown himself to be. It’s why I didn’t tell him about the baby. It’s why I didn’t tell him about Spencer.

All he wants to do is take care of me, but I held him at arm’s length because I was scared I’d get hurt again.

But Owen isn’t Spencer.

“I know what it’s like to run from your past. I’ve been doing it for months.” My fingers are twisted in an anxious knot in my lap. “Even before I dated my ex, if you can even call what we did ‘dating,’ people thought I was some puck bunny, sleeping my way through the team. That's why I didn’t want to start anything with you.”

“Those people must not know you, then. You’re a hardass.”

For the first time in what feels like years, I smile. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t always. I used to trust people.”

He glances over at me, and I see his question buried just under the surface. Do you trust me? Can we fix this? Is there a path forward?

Then his eyes dart to the rearview mirror. “Motherfucker.”

“What is it?”

“The orange car behind us. It’s one of the reporters.” He looks back over his shoulder and switches lanes abruptly.

I turn around to look, too. “He’s following us?”

“Yeah,” Owen weaves in and out of traffic. “But don’t worry, I’ll lose him.”

Owen takes several turns, dodging and weaving around traffic until the orange car gets lost behind us.

Owen relaxes back in his seat, but I’m a little derailed by the idea of a reporter actually coming after us. Do they ever let up? How could an article about someone else’s private life be worth all of this?

But if it is worth all of this, they’ll keep coming until they get what they want. The truth will come out eventually. When it does, I’d rather Owen hear it from me.

“There’s a reason I haven’t told you what really happened at my last job, Owen… why I don’t want to say his name out loud.”

“Okay.” Owen is all ears, and I know there’s no going back now.

“I never planned on getting involved with anyone. Not him. Not you. I wanted to be respected in sports medicine. It’s hard to do when you’re…” I search for the right word.

“Hot?”

I toss him a look. “Young. A woman. Anyway, I wanted to keep things professional, but when I met him, I let my guard down. He was sweet, different from the other hockey players I’d met. Or so I thought. I fell for him, but he wasn’t?—”

“Fuck!” Owen cuts me off, his eyes on the rearview mirror again. “He’s back.”

I look in the side mirror. “Owen, he’s coming up fast.”

“I know.” He’s watching in the mirror, but we’re stuck at a red light. “Come on, come on…” Owen taps his thumb nervously on the steering wheel, his eyes shifting back and forth.

The car is quickly closing in on us, changing lanes to get right behind us. But the light turns green, and Owen punches it.

His tires squeal, and we take off, fishtailing through the intersection. In the side mirror, I watch as a minivan pulls between the orange car and us, blocking them.

I smile. “I think we lost?—”

The sentence is ripped from my mouth as a scream when the world jolts sideways.

Then there’s only the crunch of metal and the shattering of glass.

I think I hear Owen call my name. I reach for him, but it’s like we’re underwater. I don’t know which way is up.

Then the world goes black.