“I saw her at the rink. She’s sniffing around, looking for dirt. And you—” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “You’re using this shelter to clean up your image.”
Her words stopped me cold. I felt heat crawl up my neck, my whole body tensing like I’d just been checked into the boards. Was she right? Was I trying to turn this into a PR stunt without even realizing it?
Or was I justified in thinking that any good press was just a bonus? Either way, I hated that she saw me like that.
“So what if I am?” I shot back, my voice rising. “What’s the harm in that? The shelter gets volunteers, and I get a little good press. Everyone wins.”
“Everyone wins?” she echoed, her voice incredulous. Her eyes widened for half a second, then narrowed, as if she couldn’t believe what I said.
She took another step closer, and I could see the frustration burning in her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself? This isn’t some PR stunt, Colton. These are real animals with real problems. They’re not just props for your redemption arc.”
I clenched my jaw, my frustration bubbling over. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see them?” I gestured toward the kennels, where a row of dogs wagged their tails or pressed their noses against the bars, eager for attention. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m doing the work. Does it matter why I started?”
“Yes, it matters!” she snapped, her voice cracking with emotion. “I think you care about yourself,” she shot back. “And Ithink you’ll do whatever it takes to get back in the NHL. Even if it means exploiting people who are trying to make a difference.”
I took a step closer. “You don’t get to decide why I’m here, Riley. You don’t get to judge me.”
“Someone has to,” she shot back, her eyes blazing. “Because you’re so busy playing the golden boy that you don’t even see what you’re doing. You think you can skate through life, charming everyone and cleaning up your messes with a smile and a photo op. But it doesn’t work like that, Colton. Not here. Not with me.”
“You’re something, you know that? You act like you’ve got it all figured out, like you’re so much better than me. But guess what, Riley? You’re not. You’re just Ryan’s little sister and no match for me.”
Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t back down. “You’re right, Colton. I’m not a match for you. Because I care about something other than myself.”
For a moment, I was speechless. Was that really how she felt about me? Just some selfish guy who only cared about himself?
No one had ever stood up to me like that—not even Ryan.
I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong. But I wasn’t sure she was. Not anymore.
I stared at her, my chest heaving as her words sank in. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, I broke the tension, and my voice was quieter now. “You think that’s all this is to me? A photo op?”
She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the side before returning to mine. Then she drew in a slow breath, her shoulders lifting slightly before settling. “I don’t know what to think, Colton. All I know is that every time I believe you care, you do something that reminds me why I shouldn’t.”
“Look, I’m not saying I’m perfect. I know I’ve made mistakes. But I’m trying, Riley. Isn’t that worth something?”
She studied me for a long moment, her gaze searching mine as if she were trying to figure out if I was being honest. Then, she sighed, “I don’t know, Colton. Maybe it is. But trying isn’t enough if you’re not in it for the right reasons.”
I nodded slowly. “And what if I am?” I asked quietly. “What if I’m here because I want to be? Because I care about these dogs?”
She looked at me, her expression softening slightly. Her arms dropped an inch, and for a heartbeat, I thought she might smile—but it didn’t come. “Then prove it,” she said. “Actions speak louder than words.”
I was wrong.
I am no match for Riley. She doesn’t pretend to be anything she isn’t. She cares. She cares about the dogs, her brother, and doing the right thing.
And no matter how much I tried to convince myself I didn’t care what she thought of me, I did.
I held her gaze, trying not to buckle under the challenge in her eyes. My jaw tightened.
“Fine,” I said. “I will.”
It felt like we were on the edge of something for a moment—a truce, maybe, or at least an understanding.
I could see the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath. A strand of hair had come loose from her ponytail, catching the light. She pushed it behind her ear.
“Good,” she said, her voice brisk. “Now get to work. The kennels aren’t going to clean themselves.”
She said to prove it. What she doesn’t realize yet is I don’t know how.
