The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 11

Evie

I was horrified. He had gotten himself a private investigator to find me. There was no other plausible reason for him to know where I was in the first place.

“Answer the question, Mister Hayes,” I order, my tone becoming icy.

He continues fumbling over his words. “I- I can explain.”

That was all the confirmation I needed.

“Well, then. Please go ahead and explain yourself. I’m dying to hear what excuse you have in your incredibly expensive–looking suit jacket you have on,” I scoff.

He shakes his head, laughing tiredly.

“You practically vanished overnight,” he says defensively. “You didn’t text. You didn’t call. Hell, Evie. You had every reason to come and yell at me for what I did. But you just left. And no one in your family knew a thing. They didn’t even care. All of your stuff was just tossed on the front lawn.”

“I didn’t want to see you,” I explain flatly.

“I get that,” he says. “But seeing you the other night at the restaurant and bumping into you after the game, I had to set things right.”

“To make yourself feel better,” I laugh bitterly. “I’m not mad. I should’ve known better. You didn’t hide the fact that you were involved with other girls.”

“I wasn’t,” he says firmly. “I cut it all off before I even started talking to you. I wanted things with us to be different. I thought you were inexperienced.”

Fury burns through my veins now.

“You wanted things to be different, Timothy,” I ask, my voice shaking from pure unadulterated rage. “Did you really? Is that why you made that bet? I was just that special?”

“Evie,” he says, guilt filling his eyes again. “I didn’t-

“No,” I say sharply. Inhaling deeply, I start gathering my things. The workday wast

A

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Chapter 11

over at this point. I could call it quits and Mister Erickson wouldn’t mind. “I think this conversation is over. And I don’t know. I might not even take the case. I don’t care if I’m thrown out of this firm.”

body was frozen. The space goes silent between us. It

was big of you to even hear me

Timothy

I would have been dead on the sleek hardwood floors of that office. Those eyes that used to look at me so softly had become dangerously frosty. Why did I have to care so much? We both know I could have

want it.

since that night, I was, and still am, ruined for anyone

the leg press, setting myself up for a personal record. I am angry enough that I know I would pull through. Sitting down in the machine, I chug some water and go back

halfway through my set, my headphones are ripped from my head. I almost get up to fight whoever had just done that, except, the moment I see who it is, I lay my head

asks sharply.

I sigh, performing another leg press. Maybe she would get too distracted to

question,” she

huff, locking up the machine so that

child denied a

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Chapter 11

pulling down the bottom of her skin–tight neon dress that

I scoff. “I said what

me, pushing me back into the leg press chair.

tell me,” she hisses, flashing me her

tiredly. “I’m not in the mood for

“Her?”

ridiculous,” I growl. “Get

me it’s Evelyn,” she says sharply. “I hate her so

thing it isn’t her,” I say, smirking slightly for

says, disgust evident on her face. “For your sake, I hope not. The

louder than I intended. Stella goes still for a second.

me, tossing her hair over one

laugh. “Don’t lie to

have to pretend you like someone else to make me like you, Timothy,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. I know my dad is still putting you through the ringer, but since you got the best captain thing, he has to let us bet together. And you’ll be on the ice as long

back off the leg press and heading to leave.

is

almost

I say, grabbing my towel and wiping

really be a

sighs. “I mean, this club can make or break your