Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

20. Savannah

20

Savannah

“Truth or Dare is a must,” Emma declares, tossing the ball again. “It’s a cornerstone of any good event, and the 'Blades, Boots and Booze Pre-Festival Bonfire' won't be as good without it.”

The conference room at the Airbnb combines rustic charm with organized chaos. Sticky notes, planners, and a rainbow of colored markers cover the long wooden table. Aubrey sits at one end, her open planner resting on the table in front of her, while Emma lounges at the other, tossing a ball for Pokey, who hops after it eagerly on his three legs.

“No,” Aubrey says with a shake of her head. “Truth or Dare always spirals out of control. Last time, Sean tried to lasso a golf cart, missed, and knocked over the snack table. Marshmallows went flying, people were screaming—it was total chaos.”

Emma laughs, tossing the ball again. “And wasn’t it the best part of the night?”

“Not for me,” Aubrey says, giving Pokey a pointed look. “He’s the only one here I trust not to cause a scene.”

Pokey barks proudly, tail wagging like he’s ready for the responsibility. Emma scratches his ears, beaming. “See? He agrees.”

My phone buzzes on the table, pulling my attention away. A photo of Brody standing outside my apartment fills the screen. His arms are crossed, his smirk both smug and chilling. Beneath the photo, a message that makes my stomach drop.

“Thinking of you.”

The marker slips from my hand and clatters to the floor.

“Sav?” Aubrey’s voice sharpens, concern cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere. “What’s wrong?”

I fumble to flip the phone facedown, but my hands are trembling. “It’s nothing,” I say quickly.

“Savannah, that wasn’t nothing. Talk to me.”

Emma straightens, her gaze bouncing between us. Even Pokey senses something is off, padding over to nudge my leg with his nose.

I sigh, knowing there’s no dodging this. “It’s Brody.”

Aubrey frowns, her expression darkening. “Bruiser? I thought you fired him as a client a while ago because he was, what did you call it? Oh, yeah, a total raging asshole .”

“That was the polite version. The truth is worse. Much worse.”

Emma tilts her head, curiosity written all over her face. “Wait, who’s Bruiser?”

Aubrey answers for me. “Brody 'Bruiser' Langston. Big-shot football star. His face is everywhere—billboards, commercials, you name it .”

Emma scoffs. “Oh, one of those guys. Untouchable golden boy?”

“Exactly,” I say, forcing a bitter smile.

“What does he want now?” Aubrey asks.

I pick up the phone, showing them the photo and message. “This.”

Aubrey leans closer, her jaw tightening. “That’s your apartment building. He’s been sending you these?”

“Photos and messages,” I say quietly. “He thinks we’re still connected, that we’re a team.”

Emma frowns deeply. “That’s creepy. Why not go to the police?”

“For what?” I snap, the frustration spilling out. “He hasn’t done anything illegal. A photo of himself standing on a public sidewalk? A text saying he's thinking of me? None of that holds up.”

Emma scowls, clearly unsatisfied. “Why is he doing this? Why not just get another PR agency?”

“Because, to him, I’m not just his PR person,” I explain, gripping the table. “I'm his partner. His shield. His lifeline. I know all his secrets, and I’m the only one who can protect him. Or destroy him.”

Aubrey’s eyes widen. “The allegations?”

I nod, turning to Emma as I continue, my throat tight. “He had multiple women accusing him of abuse, but he swore to me it was all lies. His charisma, his denials—they were so convincing. I spun the narrative, buried the accusations in the media, and made him look innocent.”

“But he wasn’t?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, horrified.

“No,” I say bitterly. “One night, after a game, we were celebrating. He got drunk, cynical, and started joking about ‘how easy it was to shut up a woman.’ I demanded answers, and he just laughed. Said it didn’t matter if the accusations were true because no one would believe them—not after what I’d done.”

Aubrey gasps, covering her mouth. “Sav.”

“I fired him the next day,” I continue, my voice trembling. “But he didn’t take it well. To him, it wasn’t just a business decision—it was betrayal. And now he’s obsessed with me.”

“Obsessed how?” Emma asks quietly.

I hesitate, then share what happened a few days ago.

“I was walking downtown, and this motorcycle came out of nowhere, skidding right toward me. I couldn’t move. I just froze. If a man there hadn’t pulled me out of the way…” I trail off, swallowing hard.

Aubrey’s face goes pale. “And then?”

“I got a message right after,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “From Brody. He didn’t even try to hide it. ‘ We’re a team. Don’t forget. I can keep you safe.’”

Emma clenches her fists. “That’s not safe. That’s psychotic.”

“Clearly, it was not a coincidence. Brody must have sent that biker to follow me—not to harm me, but to warn me.”

Aubrey grips my hand tightly, her expression fierce. “You’re not dealing with this alone. We’ll figure out how to deal with this together. He doesn’t know he’s up against not one but two women way smarter than him.”

“Excuse me? Three badass women,” Emma cuts in, smirking as she sets Pokey’s ball on the table. “Don’t forget—I’m the queen of computers. I could dig up dirt on him, crash his website if he tries anything shady, or make a story about him go viral before he even knows what hit him. Nobody messes with my team.”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow and leans back in her chair. “Whoa, whoa—hold your horses, cowgirl. One step at a time. We’ll strategize when and if we need to.”

Emma grins, unfazed. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—I’m a weapon of mass distraction.”

Aubrey chuckles, lifting her glass of lemonade. “Alright, three badass women. To brains, courage, and the assholes who won’t see us coming.”

We clink our glasses together, and for the first time in days, I feel a spark of hope.

Aubrey clears her throat, her voice determined. “Right now, we have a festival to run. Brody doesn’t get to steal this from you—from us.”

“So, Truth or Dare stays, right? Pokey agrees.”

I smirk, spinning a marker between my fingers. “Truth or Dare stays, but no dares that involve lassoing golf carts or anything that could traumatize the marshmallows.”

“Lame,” Emma mutters, rolling her eyes. “But fine. I’ll allow it.”

I shake my head, grateful for the levity. For now, it’s enough to keep going.

My phone buzzes again, making all three of us jump. Even Pokey's ears perk up. I stare at the device like it might bite me, but when I finally look at the screen, some of the tension in my shoulders eases slightly.

It’s Blaze.

Just checking you're ok.

"Please tell me that's not him again," Aubrey says, her voice tight with concern.

"Just work stuff," I mutter, but I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I remember breaking down in Blaze's arms, how he just held me without demanding explanations.

Emma's eyebrows shoot up. "Work stuff that makes you blush?"

I throw a marker at her, which she dodges with a laugh. But as I stare at Blaze's message, my stomach twists.

The media frenzy around our "engagement" has been impossible to miss, and Brody... A cold weight settles in my chest. Brody doesn't share what he considers his. And seeing me publicly claimed by another athlete—especially one as high-profile as Blaze Ice—that has to be driving him crazy.

Emma stretches dramatically, scooping up Pokey’s ball and tossing it into her bag.

“As much fun as this has been, the tech queen has duties to attend to. Dad said the festival website is glitching again, and apparently, I’m the only one who knows the difference between a Wi-Fi router and a toaster.”

“Good luck saving the festival one line of code at a time,” Aubrey says with a smirk.

Emma grins, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “I leave the real festival work to you grown-ups. Don’t let Pokey outshine you.”

Pokey wags his tail proudly as if he knows he’s part of the team. Emma ruffles his ears before heading toward the door. “Text me if you need anything. And by anything, I mean nothing boring.”

With a playful wave, she’s gone, leaving a quiet, charged atmosphere in their wake. Aubrey turns to me, her lighthearted expression fading. “Alright, spill.”

I blink, feigning innocence. “Spill what?”

Aubrey sits down beside me, her tone soft but insistent. “The motorcycle. Why didn’t you tell me about that sooner?”

I sigh, fiddling with the marker in my hand. “Because you’ve got enough on your plate, Aubrey. The festival, the baby… I didn’t want to add to your stress.”

She shakes her head. “Sav, we’re not just business partners. We’re friends. Partners in many more ways. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle, especially when it comes to your safety.”

Her words hit harder than I expect, and guilt twists in my stomach. “I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I just…” My voice falters, and I glance at the phone on the table. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

Aubrey reaches for my hand, her grip reassuring. “You’re not a burden. And you don’t have to deal with this alone. Brody doesn’t scare me, and he sure as hell isn’t going to scare you into silence. Not while I’m around.”

Her fierce protectiveness tugs at something deep inside me, and for a moment, I can’t speak. When I finally find my voice, it’s shaky but determined.

“There’s more.”

Her eyes narrow. “More?”

I take a deep breath. “Blaze and I… we’re fake-engaged.”

Aubrey’s jaw drops, and then, to my surprise, she bursts out laughing. “You? Engaged to Blaze? That's even more than… You’re moving up the ladder pretty quickly, girl. Does that mean you’ve decided it’s him and not Blake? The man you once referred to as a walking red flag with a trust fund ?”

“It’s not like that,” I protest, though I can’t help but smile at her reaction. “It’s for PR. Strictly professional.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Because you’re known for keeping things strictly professional when it comes to brooding bad boys. Or twins.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Can you just let me explain?”

“By all means,” she says, gesturing dramatically.

I recount the basics—how the engagement benefits Blaze’s image and Pinnacle’s exposure. “I want to help him. He’s different from what I thought,” I admit. “There’s more to him than arrogance and temper. But he’s also… complicated.”

Aubrey’s teasing smile fades, replaced by quiet understanding. “Yeah, he’s been through a lot. He’s not just some spoiled athlete trying to clean up his image. He’s someone who’s still figuring out how to be better.”

“But not like that , you know. This engagement isn’t about feelings. It’s strictly a business decision.”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I can’t answer. Because I’m not sure—not really.

Aubrey shifts gears, her expression brightening. “Alright, enough heavy stuff. Let’s talk about tomorrow, with the Festival Preview Brunch,” she says, her tone now all business. “Sean and I are hosting as ambassadors, and it’s happening right in Cedar Creek’s Historic Town Square. They’re setting up elegant tables under the string lights, and the charm of the old buildings makes it the perfect spot to impress sponsors, media, and influencers. It’s a VIP event that showcases everything the festival is about and sets the tone for the week.”

I nod, already sensing where this is going. “And you want me there.”

“Not just you,” she says with a sly grin. “You and Blaze, not that you're 'engaged.' It’s perfect—like you said, great for his PR, great for Pinnacle’s exposure, and, let’s be honest, the media loves a good power couple.”

I stare at her, my mind racing. The idea is solid, but the thought of being so publicly tied to Blaze sends a chill down my spine, with Brody lurking in the shadows.

“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Do you think it’s a good idea to put us in the spotlight like that?”

“It’s the best idea,” Aubrey says firmly. “And honestly, Blaze could use the chance to show people the good guy I know he is. It’s a win-win.”

Her confidence is contagious, and despite my reservations, I find myself nodding. “Okay. We’ll do it.”

Aubrey beams. “That’s the spirit. Just try to be charming, okay? Think of it as practice for surviving Blaze’s sense of humor.”

I smirk, shaking my head. “I’ll do my best. But if he cracks a dad joke, I’m out.”

She laughs, raising her glass. “To charming fiancés, badass women, and festivals that go off without a hitch.”

We clink glasses, and for the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe. But as I head back to my room, my phone buzzes again. This time, I don’t even need to look to know it’s not Blaze.

Brody doesn’t share what he considers his. And if he sees me publicly claimed by someone else, especially someone as high-profile as Blaze, I have no doubt he’ll escalate.

The thought sends a chill down my spine, but I push it aside. For now, all I can do is prepare for tomorrow. One fake smile at a time.