Tristain POV
GASP! GASP! GASP!
I sat on the bench with my elbows on my knees, taping my stick so tight the black tape was starting to split. Coach Donovan had already ripped into me once today. He’d pulled me aside before warm-ups, voice low and sharp enough to cut glass.
“You’re benched next game if this off-ice bullshit doesn’t stop, Hale. The sponsors are up my ass. The blog—it’s all anyone’s talking about. You’re supposed to be our franchise face, not some tabloid sideshow. Get your head straight or I’ll sit your ass on the bench until you remember why we pay you.”
I’d nodded like I gave a damn. Told him it was handled. Lied through my teeth. Because it wasn’t handled, not even close.
Juniper was living in my house, sleeping twenty feet away in the guest room, and I couldn’t sto
