Page 44 of Pucking Never
“C…Camille?” I stammer.
I’d been so worried about running into Jensen, I hadn’t even considered that seeing her today would be a possibility. It’s especially surprising given that this area is off limits to the general public. She turns to face me, her blonde hair swishing around her shoulders. She’s dressed as immaculately as ever in a pale pink dress and silver stilettos. It’s a strange outfit for a hockey game, but I honestly can’t picture her in anything more casual. She holds herself with such ease and confidence, I feel instantly frumpy and inadequate in comparison. My simple but stylish gray slacks, black heels, and black silk blouse all seem drab compared to her glamor.
“Oh!” she says, her gaze lighting up with recognition. “I know you. Grace, right? You were hanging out at the rink during that practice the other week taking pictures or something.”
I furrow my brow in confusion.
“Um, yeah,” I nod as I cautiously move toward her. “What are you doing up here? This area is for press and media only.”
She flips her hair over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with frustration.
“I was hoping to run into Jensen’s publicist,” she says. “Jensen’s father gave me his information and I need to talk to him about how ridiculous Jensen is being.”
“Ridiculous? How?”
Why am I talking to her? I should just keep moving and pretend I don’t know anything about her and Jensen. It’s really none of my business in the end, is it?
She releases a short breath and rolls her eyes. “He’s being so shortsighted. He keeps rejecting me, even though we’re perfect for each other. I went to his place the other night to try and talk some sense into him but he just went on and on about some girl he’s hung up on. I figure, though, if I can convince his publicist how good it would be for Jensen’s public image to have me on his arm, he might have a better chance of getting Jensen to think reasonably.”
My heart seems to stop as I stare at her. I ignore the last part of her explanation and zero in on the bit of information that’s left my stomach fluttering.
“A…a girl?” I murmur. “What girl?”
Camille shrugs and waves her hand dismissively.
“Who cares?” she replies. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no way she can measure up to me, so I don’t know why he would choose her instead of me.”
Three things become very obvious to me at that moment. The first is that Camille is hugely narcissistic, the second is that she doesn’t know I’m the girl Jensen has been with, and the third is that Jensen rejected her.
For me?
“This has been such a waste of time,” Camille declares, yanking me out of my wandering thoughts. “I tried to talk to him the other day at his place, then I intercepted him at the locker room yesterday, but he threatened to call the police if I didn’t get away from him. Can you believe that? Ungrateful bastard. Well, it’s his loss. There are plenty of men out there who would trip over themselves to be with me.”
I open my mouth, though I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. She doesn’t give me a chance to respond, though, before her eyes go wide as if with realization.
“Hey! If you get access to the press box, you must know Jensen’s publicist, right? Do you happen to know where Jensen’s publicist is?”
I arch a brow and shake my head. “Uh… no, I don’t. Keeping track of his publicist isn’t really my job.”
Camille frowns and then lets out an annoyed huff of breath as she rolls her eyes.
“Well, thanks for nothing,” she snaps, flipping her hair again.
Apparently, our conversation is over, because she turns without another word and storms away. I guess she’s not interested in waiting for Jensen’s publicist anymore. I’m so stunned, I just stare after her for a long moment. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. If what she said was all true, then Jensen was never with her.
In a haze, I make my way into the press box and get my equipment set up. The stadium is filling up with eager fans, but their rambunctious excitement only makes me feel overwhelmed. The game starts, but I can hardly focus on anything that’s happening on the ice. I can’t keep my eyes off of Jensen and Camille’s words keep running through my head on repeat. I’m so confused and I don’t know what to think anymore. Everything feels like it’s been flipped upside down. I was so angry. I was so certain that all my cynical thoughts and worries had been right. Now, though, I’m not sure what to think. I need time to process what Camille has just told me and the assumptions I’d made and so easily believed about Jensen. At length the noise of the crowd and the game becomes too much and I just feel the need to get away and find somewhere quiet where I can actually think straight.
Slipping away from the press box, I make my way to a nearby bathroom and lock myself in one of the stalls. The pressure lifts from my head and I’m able to focus a bit better.
That’s when it hits me. Shit, did I ruin everything? Did I let my assumptions and prejudices get in the way of my logic? I didn’t even stop for a moment to consider other possibilities when I saw Jensen with Camille and immediately decided they were together. Now, looking back at everything that’s happened between Jensen and me, I feel awful that I didn’t give him the chance to explain what was actually happening.
Chest tight and anxiety rising, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Skyler.
“Hello,” she says in a singsong voice. “What’s new, beau?”
“Skyler, I think I messed up,” I say without preamble. “I think I messed up bad.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.