Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
I flash a grin, leaning into the mic. “We’ve got a great team, great chemistry. If we stay focused, I think we’ve got a real shot.”
Safe. Easy. Next question.
Another reporter chimes in, asking about the charity event the team just pledged to. Finally, a question that matters. Took long enough.
It’s why we’re all here, after all.
I let Mason take it, nodding along as he talks about the importance of giving back.
And then it happens. “Hudson, one more question.”
The voice is calm, almost casual, but it makes every nerve in my body go on high alert. I glance at the reporter—an older guy with a sharp suit and a sharper smile. He adjusts his glasses, his gaze locking on to mine like a predator sizing up its prey.
“Can you tell us how married life is treating you?”
The room goes dead silent.
My lungs burn, and it feels hard to breathe. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. Every reporter, every teammate, every PR staff member turns to me like I just grew a second head.
My heart slams against my rib cage, but I force my face to stay neutral, even as my mind races.
What the hell? How does he know?
Mason lets out a bark of laughter, breaking the tension. “Hudson? Married? Yeah, right. He can’t even commit to a pizza topping.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the room, but it’s short-lived.
Fuck.
The reporter doesn’t seem to be buying it. He keeps his eyes on me, his smirk widening.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” he presses. “You’re married.”
“Excuse me?” My voice sounds too tight. Keep it together, Wilde.
Don’t give anything away.
“Let me rephrase,” he says smoothly. “Is there any tension in the locker room now that you’re married to a teammate’s sister?”
The silence that follows is somehow louder than the laughter from before. Everyone in the room but the shithead asking the questions is frozen in place, staring at me like I’ve just confessed to a crime.
“What?” Dane’s voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and demanding.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. The reporter raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s unleashed.
“So, Dane . . .” He turns his attention away from me and onto Dane. “Are you happy for your sister and Hudson?”
Dane blinks, his jaw tightening. He looks at me, then back at the reporter. “I—what—what the hell are you talking about?”
“All right, that’s enough,” our PR manager snaps, stepping forward and cutting the reporter off. “This press conference is over. Thank you all for coming.”
The room erupts into chaos again, but this time, it’s worse than before.
Reporters are shouting questions, cameras are flashing, and I still can’t get my brain to function.
Luckily for me, the PR team moves quickly, ushering us off the stage and into the hallway. Everyone is stunned into silence except for Mason, who mutters something I can’t make out. Most likely, it’s an obnoxious comment, and I’m happy I don’t hear, because I’m sure I’d want to punch him. Something tells me that wouldn’t bode well for me with Coach.
As soon as we’re away from the press, Dane turns to me, his face a mixture of confusion and anger. “What the hell was that?”
I run a hand through my hair, my heart still racing. “Dane, I can explain—”
“Explain what?” he snaps. “That reporter just said you’re married to my sister. My sister, for fuck’s sake. Please tell me this isn’t true.”
My pulse quickens, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.
The hallway feels too small, too loud, even though no one’s talking but us. I glance at Mason and Aiden, who are both hovering a few feet away, clearly not sure if they should step in or stay out of it.
“Yeah,” I say finally, my voice low. “It’s true.”
Dane’s face goes blank for a second, like he can’t quite process what I’ve just said, and then, like a veil of fog being lifted, the anger flares.
“You’re fucking joking,” he says, his voice sharp. “Shit. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“You—” He cuts himself off, his fists clenching at his sides. “Are you out of your damn mind? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Molly is my sister.”
“I know,” I say, my voice steady even though my chest feels like it’s caving in. “I know, Dane. And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. But this—what Molly and I have—it’s real.”
“Real?” Dane scoffs. “You’re a playboy, Hudson. You’ve never been serious about anyone in your life. Why the hell would I believe you’re serious about her?”
“Because I am,” I say firmly.
He laughs, but it’s humorless. “You don’t even know how to be serious, Hudson. You think everything’s a joke. What happens when this gets old? When you get bored? What happens to Molly then?”