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The article continues on to speculate about something romantic between us, entirely based on this one photo that has…admittedly a lot of tension. It touches on Lila’s career and our shared history and even my complicated past—and it feels raw seeing our lives intertwined in this weird way. I don’t like it. I don’t like knowing that my bullshit might taint Lila in some way.
“Jack, I…I don’t know what this is, but—”
“Chase!”
I rip my head to my right, seeing Leilani sticking her head out of the entrance to the inner workings of the arena. She’s got her phone pressed to one ear, gesturing at me wildly to come to her.
I turn back to Jack, who is still looking at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I raise my hands in what I hope is a placating gesture.
“Listen, Jack, I don’t know what’s going on, but that’s bullshit. It was just a weird out-of-context thing. I promise, okay?”
He nods slowly. “Okay.”
“Chase!”
“I’m coming!” I call back to Leilani. I shoot Jack a serious look. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
I rush to the exit from the ice in a blur, pausing only for a brief moment to shuck off my skates as I practically jog to the inner doors and pace toward the coach’s office past the locker rooms.
Leilani is already there when I push inside, pacing from one end of the office to the other while speaking rapidly into her cell phone. Coach is scratching at his graying beard as he scrolls through something on his computer screen, giving me a stiff nod and gesturing for me to sit.
I sink into the chair and give Leilani a wary glance, watching as she ends her call and shoots me a look. “Is there something going on with you and Delilah Baker?”
What the fuck? Is everyone going to think we’ve got something going on now?
“No,” I tell her firmly. “We’re friends. We have been for a long time. That picture is just an out-of-context screenshot from her show. It doesn’t mean nearly as much as people are trying to make it.”
Leilani narrows her eyes as if trying to figure out whether or not I’m lying, finally huffing out a breath through her nostrils and shaking her head. “Delilah’s PR team are saying the same thing. This article is just the first of many. You guys have already got a ship hashtag going on.”
“A ship hashtag?”
She nods. “DelIan. It’s not the worst one I’ve ever heard, but regardless, the internet is all abuzz about the possibility of hockey’s ‘bad boy’ being in a relationship with his childhood friend. I mean, they call her the ‘darling of baking.’ What a shit show.”
“I’m not hockey’s ‘bad boy,’ ” I snort. “For fuck’s sake, there was a guy on Nevada’s team that had an underground gambling ring last year. I don’t think old relationship drama qualifies me to hold the title.”
“Whatever, I didn’t give you the moniker, Ian, I’m just here to deal with any possible blowback.”
“Okay, so, we just make a statement that Delilah and I are friends,” I say. “Easy.”
“We all know that the internet doesn’t always care about the truth,” Coach says gently.
My mouth presses into a thin line, knowing he’s right. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
“I might,” Leilani answers, “but I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”
“What?”
She taps something into her phone, turning it around and handing it to me to show me an open social page. There are a flood of comments under the aforementioned “ship tag,” and I feel my brows shooting up as I read through some of them.
@gingerbreadgirlboss: I am LIVING for this couple? Childhood friends to lovers?? Hello??? Someone call Shondaland right now. I need the movie. #DelIan
@sopuckinghornyrightnow: dude but like they are really hot together #DelIan
@justhereforthepuns: why do hockey players work at bakeries during off season? they’re great at icing the cake. #DelIan
@bakemeacake: okay but I want someone to look at me the way Ian looks at Delilah my boy is smitten #DelIan
I frown back at Leilani. “What am I looking at?”
