Page 51 of Breaking the Ice

My mouth drops open.

Evan sputters. “What? Why? I thought you’d say we made a dumb mistake and we need to fix it.”

Ms. Barnes clears her throat, but my dad talks over her. “You did make a dumb mistake. The dumbest. And guess who allowed it?”

Humiliation, hot and icky, fills me. Not at our impulsive decision but the thought that it is bringing shame on him. So much for repairing our relationship. “Dad, no one will think⁠—”

“It happened on my watch, and so I will take the heat,” he says, cutting me off and turning to glare at Evan. “And the hockey team. Don’t think they’ll be left out of it. All the bad press we were trying to avoid⁠—”

“Okay.” Evan’s voice is firm as he laces his fingers through mine. “What do we need to do?”

Ms. Barnes whips a tablet out of the designer bag on her shoulder.

“In case you are not aware, news of your…” she pauses, as if searching for the word, “romance has gone viral. But we can use that to our advantage.”

That must be how they knew where to find me this morning. Ms. Barnes swipes through picture after picture of us last night, highlighting Evan and I. Smiling as we played slots, gazing into each other’s eyes in the botanical gardens, deep in conversation on the gondola. Thankfully there’s nothing I don’t mind my parents seeing.

And then she gets to images of our wedding. Me, in my white dress, holding a bouquet of flowers that came from who knows where. Evan, slipping a wedding band on my finger and then kissing the hell out of me. My mom gasps at that one, and my dad clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. Ms. Barnes moves quickly past it to one of us walking down the aisle, surrounded by our friends and companions, everyone beaming. My breath catches in my throat at the look of happiness on Evan’s face, and while my dress is not fancy, my hair’s not professionally styled, and my makeup’s not flawless—I’m glowing.

I reach out and touch the picture, fingertips brushing the screen. I want a copy of that one—photographic proof that I was that beautiful and surrounded by so much joy.

Ms. Barnes clears her throat again. Oh wow, I’m being weird. I snatch my hand away. Can we pretend that never happened? Moving on, please.

“This has over 100,000 views on TikTok and Instagram already. You’re quite the sensation,” she says, her voice dry.

“Um, there’s something I don’t understand. I’m not really a social media person, so how did that even happen?” I ask, my head pounding again with the mental gymnastics required of me this morning.

“That’s partially my fault.” Evan winces. “My profiles are public. Anyone can tag me. Including Payton.”

“Ohhh, Payton.” Now it’s starting to make sense.

My mom raises a brow. “Who’s Payton?”

Evan rubs his forehead. “We ended up hanging last night with Drew Ward⁠—”

“From Quinnipiac?” My dad cuts him off, and that’s it. This situation is not ideal, but he’s been nothing but rude to everyone. I’ve had it with the way he’s treating Evan.

“Dad, could you just stop? Drew’s a great guy. Back off.” Evan squeezes my hand in thanks, and Dad crosses his arms over his chest at my outburst, but he lets Evan continue.

“So everybody got to pick, and we did fun things all over Vegas with Drew and his girlfriend, Payton. Nothing too crazy,” he adds when Ms. Barnes narrows her eyes in our direction. “But Payton is an influencer with a huge social media presence. I’m pretty sure she live-streamed the whole thing. And tagged me.”

My stomach bottoms out. She live-streamed our wedding?

Ms. Barnes picks up the thread. “And since your profile is public, Evan, you have a great many followers connected to the university and the hockey team. As you know, after the football, um, issue, we’re working on our athletics image. We don’t want it to appear like a hockey player and the coach’s daughter were intoxicated and accidentally got married on a whim in Las Vegas.”

Crickets.

“Um,” Mom finally ventures to break the silence, “how do you think we can make it look like, uh, anything… other than that?”

Because unfortunately, that’s exactly what happened.

The smile that spreads across Ms. Barnes' face is almost gleeful, like she’d been waiting for us to ask.

“You two have known each other for a few months, right? Through tutoring?” Evan and I nod, and I’m a little scared how she learned that about me so quickly. Big Brother, I suppose. “What if we leak a story that you’ve been secretly dating—because you’re the coach’s daughter and all. Dad wouldn’t approve.”

Ms. Barnes looks at me, brows raised expectantly. She’s been reading too many romance novels, but I swallow those words because, well, she’s not too far off the mark.

“Okay,” I say, voice shaking.