Free Home Ice by Katie Kenyhercz Page B

Instead, she went back to her phone’s home screen and opened the Internet. If it was this bad, she didn’t want to know. But she had to.
    Twitter first. What the hell? Thousands of messages. Many from followers expressing their shock and telling her she deserved better than that.
Than what?
Other messages were from complete strangers saying really horrible things to her in 140 characters or less if she was the one taking Dylan’s head out of the game.
What?
Where was this coming from? Credible news sources didn’t start these kinds of rumors, but entertainment segments might pick them up on a slow day.
    She typed her name and Dylan’s into Google, clicked Videos, and found a snippet from E! Jason Kennedy filled her screen looking polished and way too happy. “Reports are saying that Las Vegas Sinners captain Dylan Cole has been dating figure skating princess Lorelai Kelly.” Footage played of her waving at the Sinners’ home opener. “A source close to Cole says the budding relationship could be to blame for Cole’s lackluster start to the season. Sinners fans can breathe a sigh of relief knowing it’s nothing more serious than a love bug keeping their captain from his usual impressive play.”
    Lori hit pause and closed her eyes. He was blaming her for his slump? His texts denied it, but … it made sense. Business sense. He needed the world off his back for underperforming. Why not blame it on a girl?
Of course
the prince of hockey couldn’t be responsible for his own bad play. It didn’t match up with the guy she’d been getting to know, but maybe she’d never known him at all. They’d only been seeing each other for about a month.
    She let the phone fall onto the bed, picked up a pillow, and threw it across the room.
This is what I get. I knew better
. While part of her felt vindicated for being wary and slow to give in to his charm, she’d still given in. The rest of her just hurt. But wallowing wasn’t the answer. If she’d learned one thing throughout her whole life again and again, it was to settle everything on the ice.
    • • •
    The Las Vegas Arena rink was silent. Or it would be if it weren’t for the furious scrape of her blades as she skated with speed, power, and determination. There was some heavy breathing and the occasional grunt of frustration, but they were all coming from her. She’d been going over her long program on loop for two hours. Texting Val before leaving her apartment had actually drawn him to watch. For the first hour, he’d commented here and there, and his words had sunk in, but she hadn’t really been paying attention. It was more like after years and years of working with him, she knew what he’d say, and the criticisms seeped in through osmosis. She adapted accordingly. And she nailed that triple axel. Twice. Apparently fury was just as good a motivator as hormones. There’d come a point when Val was happy and would tell her to take a break.
    Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
    She hadn’t even noticed when he left; she’d just kept skating. It wasn’t until the adrenaline from her anger had burned off that exhaustion started to settle in. She skated to the wall of the players’ bench, leaned a hip against it, and picked up her water bottle. Her hand trembled. She was still mad. Really mad. No one in as long as she could remember had made her this upset. She’d never let people close enough to have that kind of power.
    Dylan had breezed past her defenses. He’d been too good to be true. Maybe men were all the same. Athletes just came with bigger egos, and she’d let her guard down with a man who should have an ego the size of the moon. He hadn’t appeared to have one at all. That’s what was so attractive about him. But people changed when things got hard. Hadn’t the last year taught her that?
    A side door opened and out skated the cast of Sin City on Ice in yoga pants and fleece shirts, hair in ponytails, no makeup. Time for show practice already?