Page 75 of Heartless As Puck

“This one is just gross.” The original poster had left a comment about how it was always the quiet ones who were secretly kinkiest, and each responding comment was worse than the last. A bunch of men with nothing better to do than insult and objectify a woman they’d never met.

Hazel glanced over, her eyes narrowed. “Put. It. Down.”

“But I need to know what everyone is saying.” I wished I could stop looking, but I couldn’t help it.

The next poster had attempted to enhance the photograph to make everything clearer, and bile burned the back of my throat. I swiped past quickly, hating how cheap it made me feel. As if a moment that had been magical for Austin and me was nothing more than entertainment to these people.

And the comments…

If they weren’t directed solely at me, then they focused on the physical aspect of our relationship—something that was pretty much brand new. There was more than that between us, wasn’t there?

I liked to think so, but we hadn’t made any kind of commitment. In fact, I’d made a point of not pressuring him to commit.

My phone rang, and Alec’s name appeared on the screen. I stared at it for a long moment. I wanted a comforting hug from my big brother more than almost anything, but I burned inside with the humiliation of knowing that he—and his teammates—may have seen that awful photograph.

I’d had Hazel clear all my messages and missed calls before I looked at my phone earlier because I’d been afraid of what I might see. Finger shaking, I answered the call.

“Jane?”

The concern in his voice undid me, and I promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, Janie. We’re on our way.”

“D-don’t w-worry,” I sniffled, turning away from the counter so Hazel wouldn’t see me make a mess of myself. “It’s fine. You don’t have to come.”

He needed to be in training. Their first proper game of the season was this weekend coming—against the Chaos, because the universe was apparently testing my loyalty.

Alec made a sound of disbelief. “Mom, Dad, and I will be there soon. It’s happening, so don’t argue. Our plane just landed. Once we’ve found a taxi, we’ll come straight over.”

My vision swam and tears spilled down my cheeks, irritating my already sore eyes. “But what about getting ready for your game?”

“Our game is in Chicago, so I’ll just be there early. A couple of days won’t make or break anything. You’re our priority right now.”

“I don’t deserve that,” I wailed. “This is my fault. I made a mistake, and I just know they’re going to drag you all into it.”

Not to mention that I’d pushed them away when they tried to help in the past and told them they were smothering. I didn’t deserve for them to come rushing to my rescue now, when my behavior had humiliated them publicly.

“It’s the photographer’s fault.” It sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. “Or maybe the media outlets’, or the people who are spreading it around social media. Not yours. So get that thought out of your head. We’ll be there soon.”

He hung up.

I stared at the phone, baffled. “My family is coming.”

“Oh, good.” Hazel extracted a tray of cookies from the oven and set them on a chopping board, then slotted another inside to bake. “I hope I’ve made enough cookies.”

“I’m sure you have.” I doubted Alec would eat any. He was too serious about maintaining a healthy diet, just like Austin. I wondered idly how the cookies would taste. I’d never known Hazel to bake before, but I’d definitely noticed that she believed cookies could solve any problem, no matter how monumental.

My social media feed reappeared on my screen, along with another few dozen notifications from the alert I’d set. With a sigh, I opened the first one and read it. More of the same. I was a slut. Austin was a player. We were both into kink and showing off our bodies.

Never mind that we’d been in the dark, somewhere that was supposed to be away from prying eyes, and that as far as anyone knew, we were in a committed relationship.

What was wrong with people?

“Hey.” Hazel covered the screen with her hand. “Give that to me.”

“No.” I tried to shake her off, determined to keep looking. Knowledge was power, after all.

But then something inside me deflated. If knowledge was power, then why wasn’t I feeling better or getting closer to solidifying a plan with each post I looked at? Instead, I was growing more miserable. That wasn’t productive.