I’m waiting on the last document when the door behind me closes with a soft click. I assume it’s Kingston, because he always finds me before he suits up. “Looking to add the copy room to your pregame make-out session list?” My smile dissolves when I turn around and find not Kingston but Corey. “What the hell do you want?”

He leans against the closed door, blocking the only way out of the room, which now feels infinitely smaller with his huge body taking up space in here. He’s dressed in a suit, reminding me of the first time we met, back when he was playing varsity-level hockey. How stupid I’d been to fall for his charming smile and smooth lines back then.

He crosses his arms. “We need to talk.”

“No. We don’t.” I grab the last of the copies and slip them into the file folder. Tipping my chin up, I face him with confidence I don’t feel, and that niggling feeling starts to spread, churning in my stomach and seeping into my limbs. “Move, please. You have a game to get ready for, and my dad needs to see me.” I try to push past him, but he’s like a brick wall.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s already in the arena, and we have shit to discuss.” He eyes me with contempt.

“You can’t lock me in here with you and force me to listen to whatever bullshit you feel like slinging in my direction, Corey.”

“Looks like I’ve already done that, so your best bet is to shut your fucking mouth and listen for once. You’ve caused me more than enough headaches, and I’m sick and tired of your ‘I’m so entitled because my daddy is a big shot’ whiny bitch attitude.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably with anxiety, and my cheeks heat with anger and embarrassment. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

“My girlfriend tried to apply for a marriage license this morning, and you know what happened?”

“She saw something shiny in a window and it distracted her?” His girlfriend, Sissy, comes to all the home games, and she’s forever dressed in sequins. It makes her baby belly look like a disco ball. Which is probably the point.

Corey’s lip twitches. “Always such a fucking smart-ass, aren’t you? She couldn’t get one.”

“Because she’s not capable of filling out the required paperwork?”

“Do you think you’re funny, Queenie? You think it’s some kind of joke that you’re forever fucking up my life?”

“I’ve had nothing to do with you for six damn years, and I would be more than happy to never have anything to do with you again. You know what? I’m done with this conversation. It’s not my fault your girlfriend doesn’t know how to fill out applications.” I try to elbow him out of the way, but he won’t move. “Let me out.”

“We’re not done here.” He holds up a hand to keep me at bay. “My girlfriend can fill out applications just fine. You are the reason she couldn’t apply for the license.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does, though. Because we’re still fucking married.” He motions between us aggressively.

That horrible churning in my stomach ramps up. “That’s impossible. There must be some mistake. I filed the papers.”

“Well, you fucked up somewhere along the way, like you always do. They never went through, and now she’s losing her goddamn mind, and it’s your fucking fault.”

“How the hell is this my fault? I did my part. In fact I did everything! I got the paperwork; I tabbed every page you damn well needed to sign. I stood there while some bunny hoovered your damn neck and flipped the pages for you so you wouldn’t fuck it up. I even handed you half the damn money in person. All you had to do was pay the fucking fee!”

Corey’s brow furrows and then he sneers, leaning in so his face is close to mine. “If you hadn’t gone running home to Daddy when shit didn’t work out the way you wanted, we could’ve gone right to the courthouse and taken care of things, so don’t try to turn this around and make it my fault.”

“Is that supposed to make any damn sense? Did you or didn’t you pay the filing fee?”

“It was a long time ago. How the hell am I supposed to remember?”

“Jesus Christ, Corey. Do you take responsibility for anything in your asshole privileged life?”

“My life is privileged? Fuck you, little Miss ‘I’m the Queen of My Fucking Castle.’ It wasn’t like you couldn’t afford to pay the entire thing, with your dad sitting all high up in the NHL administration ranks.”

“It wasn’t like I could ask him for money to pay for a divorce! I was eighteen!” I don’t know why I’m engaging in this argument with him. It’s pointless. Corey is the master at deflecting blame.

He rolls his eyes. “God, you’re still so fucking pathetic. You want to know the real reason I married you in the first place? Other than the fact that I wanted to pop that precious fucking cherry you were so intent on holding on to. You weren’t even that great in bed. Pretty fucking boring, actually.”

“I’m done listening to this! Let me out of here.” I try to get around him to open the door, but it’s useless. Corey is bigger and stronger than I am by a lot. He’s not going to let me go until he’s finished tearing me down.

“You’re done when I tell you you’re done. Your dad had connections, and he could get me what I wanted a lot easier than waiting for the scouts to pick me up. That’s the only reason I kept you around as long as I did. It’s the only reason I let you talk me into marrying you. And then I realized what a clingy, needy nightmare you were. I mean, is it really a surprise that I went looking elsewhere to get what I needed? Plus, I was twenty. Like I was going to spend my best years on one lame pussy.”

“You’re a pig.”

“I’m honest. It’s not my problem you never liked to hear the truth. I wonder how your Boy Scout is going to feel when he finds out he’s been fucking my wife all this time.”

“I wouldn’t be your anything if you’d paid the filing fee!” Panic makes it feel like I’m being choked. “You can’t tell Kingston.”

“I guess you better fix it if you don’t want him to find out, then. Don’t you think he deserves to know what kind of flake you really are, hiding behind your daddy and his success, leeching off his fucking players like you’re special, when you’re not? Even your name is a goddamn joke. The only thing royal about you is how much of a pain you are in everyone’s ass.” He opens the door, finally. I don’t try to push past him, though, aware he’s not quite done taunting me by the way his smile curves even higher. “It must suck to be surrounded by awesomeness all the time and be so damn average. Fix the problem, Queenie, unless you want everyone to know what a fuckup you really are.”

He steps out into the hall and pauses, looking over his shoulder, that same awful sneer in place. “And you were never anything to me, Queenie. You were a means to an end. And a mistake, since I got where I wanted to be without you to drag me down. Seems to be the story of your useless life, doesn’t it? You’re everyone’s mistake.”

CHAPTER 21

CRASH AND BURN

Kingston

My phone buzzes with messages from my family, wishing me good luck tonight, and my buoyant mood only increases the closer I get to Queenie’s office. I need to suit up for the game, but first I want to stop and tell my girlfriend the good news and steal a few kisses.

Corey comes around the corner as I reach Queenie’s office. He’s dressed in his suit—he’s always name and brand dropping, like people are actually impressed by what he wears. We all know what his salary is. He’s a big earner, but he’s no Rook Bowman. He smirks and starts whistling a funeral march as he heads in the opposite direction I am, toward the locker room.

I don’t like that he was down here, where he could potentially run into Queenie without me around to make sure he keeps his distance. I stop by her office, but she’s not there, which amps up the anxious feeling that’s making my shoulders tight.

Jake’s office door is open, so I pop my head in there, too, but it’s empty. I decide to check the copy room, on alert because Corey came from that direction. I round the corner just as Queenie does, scaring the crap out of her and causing her stack of papers to flutter across the floor.

“Shit!” She presses one hand against her chest and the other against mine. “You scared the hell out of me.”

I run my palms down her arms. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you before the game, and I passed Slater in the hall. He was coming from this direction, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Did you run into him too?”

“What?” Her eyes lift to mine briefly and then dart down as she crouches to pick up the scattered papers. “Oh, no. I didn’t run into Corey.”

I help her gather up the pages and notice the tremble in her hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your hands are shaking.”

She exhales an unsteady breath. “I’m fine. You just scared me, that’s all. I was in a bit of a rush, wanting to get to the arena so I can meet up with the girls.”

“Why don’t we walk down together?”