Puck Princess (Houston Scythes Hockey #2)

21. Callie

21

CALLIE

“Hey there!” Kennedy leans over the kitchen island to greet me as I walk through her front door. “Ridiculously long time, no see, stranger!”

It’s been a few days since Owen and I got back from San Francisco, and I’ve spent the majority of my time at work or at Owen’s place. For the record, none of it has been spent at my new place. Figuring out my long-term living situation is on the backburner for the moment. A future-me problem, if you will.

Current me has more than enough problems.

“I know, I know. But look… I brought peace offerings.” I hold up to-go bags from her favorite sushi place.

She narrows her eyes and pads across the carpet towards me. “No Coast Sushi?”

“Yep.”

“Florida roll, no wasabi?”

“And added cream cheese.”

She smiles. “You’re the best. What did you get for you? You can’t have raw fish, right?”

“Udon soup.” I say, unloading the bags. I feel bad that I’ve sort of blown her off since the day I got back, but when it comes to Kennedy, there is nothing a spicy tuna roll can’t fix.

Also, I knew she was just going to double down on telling me I needed to talk to someone about Spencer, and I needed time and space to think that through. Like, will my world come crashing down the second I open that can of worms? Will I regret it for as long as I live? Will my children’s children bear the burden of this mistake?

That kind of stuff.

And, over the last few days, between avoiding anything Spencer-related with Owen, avoiding Spencer himself at work, and avoiding my nosy cousin who has only the best intentions, I managed to come to a conclusion.

I think.

Hopefully.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” I say after we’ve had a moment to dig in. “About talking to Owen… or Uncle Randy.”

Her sushi roll nearly slips out of her chopsticks. “Did you finally tell them?”

“No. Not yet.” Maybe not ever. “Spencer has been…” I search for the word. “Behaving.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I’ve hardly seen him. I don’t know if he’s just busy on the ice or with publicity or if he’s avoiding me.” I think on that for a second. “He’d be smart to avoid me.”

But he isn’t smart, so I’m still not sure what he’s up to. I’m not sure I want to know. As long as he stays out of my way, I’ll stay out of his. I take a spoonful of broth, savoring the warmth of it.

“And you’d be smart to report him, no matter how well he’s ‘behaving.’”

I sigh. “It’s not that simple.”

Kennedy looks at me.

“But I will if anything changes,” I add.

The look goes deeper.

“I swear I’ll tell someone if he even looks at me wrong.”

After a long, judgmental beat, she points her chopsticks at me. “I’m holding you to it.”

I don’t know what that means, but it’s enough for her to drop the topic and let me enjoy my lunch, which I’m grateful for. It’s hard to feel soothed by soup when Spencer is on the brain.

The next day at work, I scan the VIP parking lot for Spencer the way I always do. Ever since San Francisco, he’s been quiet. There have been a few showboaty videos of him on the team’s socials, but Owen hasn’t mentioned anything about Spencer poking that bear. And he hasn’t cornered me into massaging his quads again.

He really does seem to be keeping his distance, which only makes me more sure that I’m making the right choice. What happened between us is—well, not ancient history, but it’s in the past. Maybe, just maybe, I can let this go.

The waters are so smooth recently, and I don’t want to be the one to stir them.

And I’m not.

As with almost every other time in my life, the one cannonballing into the smooth, peaceful waters of my life is Kennedy, who I hear shouting from the side of the arena.

I jog down the sidewalk and round the corner to find Spencer standing on the sidewalk, chest puffed and jaw tight, glaring down at Kennedy. She’s standing in front of him, half his size and ready to absolutely tear him apart by the looks of it.

“Kennedy!” I shout, running towards them.

“Get your trashy little body guard out of here,” Spencer snaps at me.

Kennedy gasps. “Trashy?”

“This is a VIP area. How did you even get in here?”

“My dad is the coach!” She gets on her toes so she can get right in his face. I grab her arm attempting to pull her back, but her feet are practically cemented to the ground. “And he could get your ass fired for everything you’ve done.”

So much for smooth waters. We’re in a whirlpool.

“Kennedy, leave it.” I pull her back, but she’s surprisingly strong.

Spencer smirks and lets out a gritty laugh. “That’s rich. Speaking of rich, things are about to change around here, sweetheart. And your daddy won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”

I drag Kennedy another foot back. “Let's go.”

“What do you even know? You’re new here,” she goes on.

“I know enough to know you should shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Spencer!” I snap, and I am almost surprised at my own bravery. I shove Spencer back another step and then turn on Kennedy. “Leave it alone. Both of you, knock it off. Kennedy, what are you even doing here?”

“I am defending you,” she spits. “Because you won’t do it yourself.”

Spencer laughs again. “You have to have your cousin fight your battles.”

Kennedy stretches onto her toes, practically climbing over me to get to Spencer. “You better get someone to fight yours, Santos. Because Callie might be afraid to expose you for the rodent you are, but I’m not.”

Spencer takes a step closer to both of us, a fire in his eyes I know too well. His voice lowers to a threat, making me shudder. “If anyone is doing any exposing, it’ll be. Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll expose you .”

I almost laugh. “What could you possibly have on Kennedy to use against her?”

The woman has no shame and no secrets.

But when I turn to look at her, her face is pale. She shakes her head softly. “Callie… Don’t.”

“Oh.” Spencer is grinning now as he pulls out his phone. “So you don’t want this to get out?”

“Kennedy, what is he talking about?”

She yanks on my arm, suddenly trying to flee when I couldn’t get her to budge a second ago. “Let’s get out of here.”

But before she can drag me away, I see the video flickering on Spencer’s phone.

It’s Kennedy and Spencer.

In a hotel room…

I look over at Kennedy, and the look in her eyes is sheer horror. “You… You filmed it?”

Spencer runs his tongue along his teeth before shoving his phone back in his pockets. “Learn your place, bitch. Or I’ll leak your slutty ass all over social media and claim it was you that recorded it, not me.”

“No one will believe you!” Her jaw quivers.

“A desperate social climber trying to extort her father’s players?” He shrugs, beyond pleased with himself. “Is that a chance you want to take?”

The two seconds of the video I saw is replaying in my mind. Kennedy on the bed, Spencer crawling towards her.

I can’t let myself think about what happened next, but with the goosebumps racing down my arms, I think I already know.

Kennedy is frozen in horror when I grab her hand and tug her towards the building, leaving Spencer behind.

Neither of us says a word until we’re in my office, the door locked.

Then, finally, Kennedy breaks down.

She presses her back to the wall and slides to the floor, her knees bent against her chest.

I feel bad for her. But also?—

“What in the actual fuck, Kenny?”

For a moment, all she can do is sob and shake her head.

“When did that happen?”

She swipes at her nose. “The night you saw us dancing at Pour Boys.”

“So… you went home with him?”

No . No, no. I left her with him. I saw the two of them together, and I left. I should’ve warned her. I should’ve stopped them.

“I didn’t know who he was. We didn’t even exchange names because it was just a one and done, you know? He was hot and we drank a lot and?—”

“I don’t need that much detail,” I cut her off. “I just need to know why you lied to me about it. To Owen.”

Owen saw her that night. She was at home. She said she didn’t?—

“I wasn’t going to admit to my neighbor that I had a one-night stand. I didn’t think it mattered, so I lied. Then I found out who he was, and I…” She blinks back a fresh wave of tears. “Surely, you understand why I didn’t tell you, Cal.”

I do. Of course, I do. I know all about keeping secrets.

So, I drop to my knees and hug her. And Kennedy falls apart.

“Callie, that video can’t leak,” she sobs after a few minutes.

I know it can’t. Which is why I can’t tell a soul about what Spencer did to me. The second I do, he’ll publish that video. It would be bad for me, but it would be catastrophic for Kennedy.

So, I have to play his game.

I have to play along with him and just hope like hell the people I love don’t get hurt in the process.