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Blind Pass: Chapter 19

RYAN

“Oh god. Oooooh. Fucking hell. Oh.

“Um, can you please stop moaning like that? Pretty sure you’re making everyone uncomfortable right now.”

Collin points to his lap. “Especially my dick because these are new jeans, and I haven’t stretched them out properly yet so there’s like nowhere for my boner to go.”

“Collin!” Harper’s eyes widen. “Good grief. What is wrong with you?”

“Me? What’s wrong with you?! You’re the one moaning over here like you were last night when I—”

She slaps a hand over his mouth. “Do not finish that sentence.” She gives him a warning look, then removes her hand. “Sorry. These donuts are just seriously so good.”

It’s true. These donuts are really good.

“I had no idea this place even existed. I feel like I’ve been missing out.”

I glance around the lot the adorable little baby blue food truck is in. There are a few picnic tables spread around and a small coffee bar off to the right of the truck. There is a line at least five people deep, and it’s been consistently busy since we got here.

How I didn’t have a clue about this place, I don’t know.

“You have been. It’s seriously so good. I’m addicted.”

“Well, if someone”—I look pointedly at Rhodes—“would have told me about it before, I could have been eating donuts every day.”

He holds his hands up innocently. “Hey, I tried bringing you before my last home game, but no. You had a video to film and wouldn’t let me in the room for some reason.”

“Ugh. This again?” I roll my eyes. “Harper, will you please tell Rhodes here I do not have to let him sit in on me making my makeup tutorials?”

“Oh, one hundred percent no. You do not have to allow him in there. I don’t allow Collin in my studio even though he asks me all the time.”

“Like all the fucking time, and she just won’t let me in. I don’t get it.”

“Because it’s my studio. I don’t ask you to go out on the hockey rink and do hockey things, now do I? No, because that’s your space.”

“I’ll take you skating. I’ll take you skating right fucking now. Get some skates on. Let’s go,” Collin says, rising from the bench we’re currently sitting on.

Harper grabs his jacket, pulling him back down. “Oh my god. Shut up, sit down, and eat your damn donuts.”

I turn to Rhodes, satisfied with Harper’s answer. “See, I told you it’s not weird that I won’t let you watch.”

“Okay, now that sounds a little dirty. What kind of videos? I’d watch.” Collin bounces his brows up and down. Harper smacks him in the back of the head. “Wow. Geez, I was kidding.”

“Fine,” Rhodes says. “I get it. It’s your space. It’s your thing. I don’t need to be there all up in your business. But I do think it’s pretty fucking cool.”

“So cool. I had no idea so many steps and so much time and products were involved. I can’t believe the way people can transform their faces with just makeup.” He turns to Harper. “Maybe you should do that, start doing your makeup more often.”

Harper, who is completely engrossed in her donuts, does the slowest, creepiest turn I’ve ever seen. Her eyes are dark and dangerous, and her eyebrows are about up to her hairline as she looks to her boyfriend. “Excuse me? Did you just tell me I need to wear more makeup?”

At first, Collin looks confused.

Then, it hits him, and he nearly jumps off the bench.

“What, no? No, no, no! I was just saying, you know, because she does like fun, crazy, cool stuff. I thought you could do fun, crazy, cool stuff too, but scary. Because you love scary and scary things make you happy and I love when you’re happy and definitely don’t want to murder me.”

He’s talking a mile a minute trying to correct his mistake, but it’s no use. Harper’s already off the bench and ready to pounce.

I have to give Collin credit. He is a lot smarter than I thought because he takes off at a dead sprint, running from his girlfriend who is now chasing after him.

Rhodes and I fall into a fit of laughter watching Harper trying to catch up to him.

“Well, he really botched that one, didn’t he?”

“Afraid so,” Rhodes says. “And to think he was going to propose to her today.”

I gasp. “Was he really?”

“Oh fuck.” Rhodes drops his head into his hands. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But, yeah, he’s planning to propose.”

“How? What does he—” I gasp again. “Wait…he asked me for the footage from my exhibit and Harper said something about them going out to some old horror movie at that ancient theater downtown tonight. Is he doing it there?”

“He is. I have no idea on the specifics, but he has this whole thing planned.”

“Is the ring pretty?”

“Very. I’m actually surprised he didn’t go to you about it.”

“Me too. I have great taste. But I totally would have slipped and told Harper, so it’s probably a good thing he didn’t. I’m awful at keeping secrets.”

“You’re keeping our secret pretty well.”

“Yeah, but this is easy.”

A look crosses his face that I can’t quite decipher, but it doesn’t necessarily make me feel bad. His mouth drops open like he’s going to say something, but he thinks better of it, snapping it shut and shaking his head.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s nothing. I just—”

Harper flops down on the bench across from us, interrupting whatever he was going to say with her harsh breaths.

Rhodes looks away, clearing his throat. “Did you lose him?”

“Nope, he’s up a tree.”

“A tree.”

“Yep. The coward literally climbed a tree to avoid my wrath.”

“Oh god.” Rhodes groans and stands up. “I’ll go get him down.” He ambles away in search of his friend.

“Did I just interrupt something? It looked like whatever you two were talking about was pretty intense.”

I wave her off. “Nah. I’m sure it was nothing.”

Except it didn’t feel like nothing.

It felt like something. Something big.

“Okay, puh-lease tell me I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing right now.”

A woman stands at the end of the table looking at the opposite side of the parking lot where Rhodes is trying to coax Collin out of the tree.

“Unfortunately, that is exactly what it looks like,” Harper confirms for her.

“I…wow. And to think, those are professional athletes.”

“Underneath all that hockey player bravado, they’re boys. And we all know—”

“Boys are dumb,” we all three say at the same time.

We burst into giggles.

The woman takes a seat next to Harper, then sticks her hand out to me. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Scout, the owner and resident baker.”

You’re the brilliant woman behind these amazing donuts?”

She nods as I slide my hand into hers. “The one and only.”

“I’m Ryan, Rhodes’ wife.”

“Oh, I’m aware. Those headlines were…wow. I don’t know how you do it. I’d die being in the spotlight like that.” She shudders. “But congratulations on the marriage. You two look so happy and in love.”

Harper and I exchange a look, trying to hold back our laughter.

“Thank you. It was a whirlwind romance, that’s for sure.”

Scout sighs dreamily, dropping her chin into her hand. “Romance…that sounds so nice. And so far out of reach.”

“Trust me, it is not all it’s cracked up to be. Case in point”—Harper points to where Rhodes is still trying to get Collin down—“that.”

Scout twists her lips up. “Point taken. I just wish…ugh, never mind. Ignore me. Just the mindless ramblings of a woman who is perpetually single and sad because she’s an aspiring romance novelist who has never been in love.”

“You write romance?” I perk up, excited because love.

“I dabble. A dream, really, you know?”

“I’d love to read what you have. I’m a huge sucker for all things romance.”

“It’s true. It’s annoying.”

“Oh, pipe down over there. You can’t be against love when you’re in it.”

Harper grins, not looking the least bit sorry.

“What kind of romance novel?”

“It’s an unrequited love story. Mostly because that’s all I know.” She shrugs. “Anyway, it’s definitely not ready for reading, but maybe once I get it finished?”

“Yes!”

“Will there be bloody, gruesome murders or scary serial killers in it?” Harper asks.

“No.”

“Boo. Then count me out.”

Scout laughs, rising from the table and brushing the backs of her pants off. “All right, well, back to work. I just had to come over and say hi and introduce myself.” She turns to Harper. “As always, so good to see you.”

“Now that we’ve initiated Ryan into our little secret donut club, we’ll have to stop by more often.”

“Please do.” Scout beams at me. “Congratulations again on the recent nuptials. The way he looks at you is…well, it’s what romance novels are based on.” She backs away with a wave and a smile.

“I like her. She seems sweet,” I say to Harper once we’re alone again.

“Very sweet and shy. She seems to be doing an amazing job with this place. It’s been packed every time I’ve been here.”

“Impressive.”

Harper nods. “So, speaking of cute together…how are things with you and Rhodes? Is everything still going okay?”

“Yeah, actually. Everything is…well, really great.”

And it’s the truth. Things have been going so well lately. Scary well. And not just things with Rhodes and me either.

My grams is happy and thriving at her new assisted living facility. She loves her suitemate and all the nurses. She’s taking part in more group activities than she ever did before.

My YouTube channel has grown by twenty thousand subscribers in the last month, which means more views, which in turn means more profit. I’m not dumb—I know a lot of that has to do with marrying Rhodes and people being curious about our relationship, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I’ve kept true to his request to not post about us, but Poe and Frodo have become fixtures on my Instagram page.

“Good, I’m glad. I won’t lie, I was a little worried about you two.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re just so different. He’s like this total reclusive grump and you’re always the life of the party. I wasn’t sure how that would work out. But now…” She trails off and then shrugs. “I don’t know. This might be way off base and totally crazy, but Scout was right—he does look at you like something straight out of a book. It almost seems like you guys aren’t pretending anymore.”

My initial instinct is to refute her claims because that’s not true. Of course we’re still pretending.

But…

“I…I’m not so sure I am pretending anymore.”

“Are you saying…”

“I think I’m in love with my fake husband.”


I take a step back, admiring my work hanging on the gallery wall.

Somehow, and I have no idea how I got so lucky, Rhodes gave me permission to use some shots from our session together.

I was nervous to approach him about it and fully expected him to tell me no, but he didn’t. In fact, he called it my best work to date and encouraged it.

I’ve been teasing him about being a “model” ever since.

“It’s breathtaking.”

I glance over at the gentleman standing next to me. He’s older than me by several years, wearing a button-up long-sleeve shirt that’s rolled to his elbows and a pair of dark gray slacks. Tattoos cover his forearms, making him look younger.

He’s handsome…and totally married.

A blush steals up my cheeks at his compliment. “Thank you.”

“The raw emotion you captured is just…wow.” He gives his head a small shake, eyes wide with amazement as he stares up at the photo. “That’s Adrian Rhodes from the Carolina Comets, right?”

“It is. Are you a Comets fan?”

“Huge. I don’t make it out to as many games as I like, but I never miss one on TV.” He pulls his hand from his pocket and sticks it out to me. “I’m Winston Daniels. By the way, big fan of your work.”

“Of my…photography?” I ask, shaking his hand.

“Yeah. You sound surprised by that though.”

I shrug. “Sorry, I just always assume if people know me, it’s from my—”

“Makeup tutorials? My twin sister, Wren, is a big fan of that work of yours.”

“Oh.” I laugh. “Thank you. Are you a photographer too?”

“I am. I mostly specialize in weddings and family portraits, but whenever I can, I get out and grab some nature shots too.”

“Oh!” Recognition dawns on me. “You’re that Winston Daniels. I saw your photo of the wave that went viral, and I went down a rabbit hole of your work. It’s amazing, the way you can capture nature like that.”

He nods toward the photograph we’re standing in front of. “Same could be said for the way you capture emotion. I swear, I can feel his pain just by looking at this photo.”

“It was an intense session, that’s for sure.” I try my damnedest not to blush remembering what happened at the end of said session. “What brings you out here tonight?”

The gallery I hold my exhibits in downtown is having a showing tonight for local artists. Rhodes is currently on a long stretch of away games, and Harper is visiting her mother and sister on the other side of the state to celebrate her engagement. Collin did propose, and I am over the moon for them.

“My wife and I are here celebrating our anniversary. She’s around here somewhere. She’s not really big into photography, so I’m sure she’s back there hanging out in the corner where all the nude portraits are.”

“Hey, I’ve seen some of those. Not a bad corner to be in.”

He laughs. “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. I just wanted to say, photographer to photographer, your work is amazing.”

I blush again. “Thank you. I truly do appreciate the compliment.”

“And please, tell your husband good luck in his game tomorrow night. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I would love to see the Comets whoop some St. Louis ass tomorrow.”

“I will definitely pass on the message. It was great to meet you, Winston.”

“Likewise, Ryan.”

With a small wave, he disappears into the crowd.

I turn back to the photo of my husband. Longing pulls at my chest.

I miss him. So much more than I thought I would.

I didn’t realize how lonely it could be to be the wife of a pro hockey player. They’re gone all the time, and when they are home, they spend a lot of time at the rink practicing and the games go late into the night.

It’s tough, and I don’t think I ever gave Harper enough credit for having to deal with this all the time.

“I’m surprised he allowed you to put that ugly thing on display.”

I am so taken aback by the words that it takes me a moment to realize the person who said them is speaking to me.

I turn to my left, and I don’t even have to ask who the woman standing there is because I already know.

She huffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “God, look at him crying. What a baby. Oh, boohoo, poor me I have a scar on my face; everybody feel bad for me. Please, he’s like a gazillionaire. How can you be sad when you have money?”

My blood boils at her words, and I have to work overtime to keep my cool.

Don’t hit her, don’t hit her, don’t hit her. She’s not worth it. Do not hit her.

I have never punched somebody in my life, but I really want to fucking hit her.

“What are you doing here, Brittney?”

“Oh, so you know who I am. Guess that means Rhodes talks about me, huh?”

“No. Actually, he hasn’t mentioned you. The subject of trolls doesn’t really come up all that often.”

She narrows her eyes at me, her face pinched tight. “Right. Sure.”

“I’ll ask you again, what are you doing here? You have no business being here.”

“I just had to see for myself if the rumors were true and Adrian actually is married to some little wannabe social media star. With the lack of photos on your Instagram, I was beginning to think it was all a publicity stunt.”

I give her a tight-lipped smile. “Nope. We are definitely married. But thanks for being a follower.”

She glances down at the simple gold wedding band I have around my finger, seeming rather unimpressed by it. “Right, and you expect me to believe Adrian Rhodes bought you that wedding ring? I doubt that.”

“Doubt it all you want, but we have the marriage certificate to prove it.”

That’s not actually true. I haven’t yet seen a copy of the certificate.

But I know it’s real. I was there.

I don’t need to prove my marriage to anyone, let alone the woman who stomped on Rhodes’ heart.

“You know, I—”

I hold my hand up, stopping her. “Save it. I don’t care what you have to say about anything. I have no idea what your real motive is for being here, but I don’t have the patience to deal with your ass.”

She snaps her mouth shut, her fists balling at her sides. “You bitch.”

I snort. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse.” I take a step toward her, not missing the way she flinches. “Just to set the record straight”—I point at the photo of Rhodes—“there is nothing ugly about that man—my husband—and you were goddamn lucky to have him for the time you did. But that’s over and done, and so are you. I’m going to give you one last chance to walk out of here before I drag you into the street like the trash you are.”

She stands there, eyes wide, stunned.

And frankly, I’m stunned too, but mostly because I mean the words.

She pushes her tits out, shoving her shoulders back. “Fine, I’m leaving. But this isn’t over.”

“Oh, but it is.”

And I walk away from her barely holding it together.


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