Chasing the puck

Chapter Seventeen

The sun barely peeked over the horizon when Sarah stirred in bed, the weight of Tyler’s arm draped over her waist. His warmth was comforting, a protective barrier from the chaos outside their apartment, but even the security of his presence couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Last night had been intense—physically, emotionally—but despite their reconnection, a sense of dread still lingered, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.

She carefully slipped out from under Tyler’s arm, hoping not to wake him. Her bare feet padded quietly across the floor as she pulled on a robe and stepped into the living room. The apartment was still, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Outside, the city was coming to life, but inside, Sarah felt as though she was trapped in a bubble, caught between the intimacy she shared with Tyler and the storm that loomed on the horizon.

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, a reminder of the world she had been avoiding. Sarah glanced at the screen, her editor’s name flashing across it, but she ignored the call. The pressure from work had been suffocating, and she wasn’t ready to deal with it just yet. She was already walking a tightrope between her career and her relationship with Tyler, and every time she tried to balance the two, she felt herself slipping.

Sarah’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Tyler stirring in the bedroom. Moments later, he appeared in the doorway, his hair tousled, his expression still clouded with sleep. “Morning,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached her.

Sarah offered a small smile as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Morning,” she replied, leaning into his embrace. But even as she welcomed his touch, the familiar knot of anxiety tightened in her chest.

“You okay?” Tyler asked, his voice gentle but filled with concern. He could always read her, even when she tried to hide her emotions.

Sarah sighed, turning to face him. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Everything feels so… uncertain. Last night was amazing, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s all going to fall apart again.”

Tyler frowned, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer. “It won’t,” he said firmly, but the doubt in his voice was unmistakable. “We’ll figure it out, Sarah. We always do.”

Before she could respond, the doorbell rang, cutting through the tension between them. Tyler’s brow furrowed. “Who’s that this early?”

Sarah felt her pulse quicken. It wasn’t unusual for paparazzi to camp outside their building, but she hadn’t expected anyone to come to the door. Tyler moved toward it cautiously, peeking through the peephole before opening it.

Preston, Tyler’s best friend, stood on the other side, looking uncharacteristically serious. “Hey, man. Sorry to barge in like this, but we need to talk,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His gaze flicked to Sarah, and he gave her a brief nod before turning back to Tyler. “This whole thing with the media… it’s getting out of hand.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened as he closed the door behind him. “What now?”

Preston ran a hand through his hair, his expression grim. “Another story dropped this morning. They’re saying one of your former teammates is accusing you of knowing about the misconduct. They’re trying to drag your name through the mud again.”

Sarah’s stomach twisted. She had been bracing for more fallout, but hearing it confirmed was like a punch to the gut. She glanced at Tyler, whose face had gone pale with anger.

“Are you kidding me?” Tyler muttered, pacing the room. “I had nothing to do with that! How many times do I have to say it before they leave me alone?”