Page 273 of Cross Check

“What’s going to happen?”

“Fuck if I know. This is unprecedented. She’ll be fired. You’ll be suspended. The⁠—”

“Fired?” I exclaim. “We’re not breaking the law. She’s not even my coach! We’re two consenting adults who⁠—”

“The league doesn’t give a shit about that. They’ll see it as an abuse of power on her end. As for you, they’ll blame you for negligence and goddamn stupidity.”

“I need to see her. I need to make sure she’s okay,” I croak.

“The second you step outside this arena, every reporter is going to ask for a statement. You don’t say anything to anyone. You don’t mention this to anyone. Every answer out of your mouth has to be no comment, even when they try to goad you for your side of the story. You need to stay away from the microphones until we leave Milan, then we can start damage control.”

He almost looks sympathetic as he says it. I want to push back and argue with him, but he’s right. Talking to reporters will give the league ammunition. It’ll be confirmation that all of this is true, and I need to protect her as best as I can.

“I’m going to find her tonight,” I tell him. “I don’t care if I have to sneak out or cross into a different country. I’m not letting her handle this alone.”

Coach doesn’t fight me. He gives a stiff nod and jerks his chin back toward the ice. “We see how Hannah places, then you find Amelia.”

The next hour passes, and years are shaved off my life. Hannah’s chance of winning a gold medal gets more likely with each skater. I can’t find it in me to be excited for her, and that makes me feel even worse.

I check my phone during a TV break, and it was a stupid idea. My group chat with the guys has close to two hundred messages. I have six missed calls from my agent. My mom called too, and that must mean things are bad.

I make a split-second decision and type out a text to Amelia as fast as my fingers can move.

Me

We need to talk. Where are you?

AG

Team hotel.

Me

Meet me in the fitness center in fifteen minutes. There are bathrooms in there. I’ll be in the women’s one with the door locked. Knock three times.

AG

I don’t think we should be seen together.

Me

Please, Lia.

AG

Fine. Fifteen minutes.

“I’m leaving,” I whisper to Coach. “I can’t let her handle this alone.”

“Grant,” he says, but I’m already charging out of the arena.

Pulling my hat low on my head, I sprint back to the team hotel. I gasp for breath in the cold winter air and almost twist my ankle on a brick road as I tear down the hall that leads to the fitness center like my life depends on it. I lock myself in the bathroom and check my phone to assure myself she’s going to come.

She has to.

I sit on the counter and stare at the ceiling.

How the hell did we get here? Years of doing everything right, only for it to blow up right in our faces on the biggest stage of our careers.