He winced, but it was gone in a flash, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "Ouch. Straight for the jugular, huh?"
"You brought it up," I said, returning to Max. "And don't call me sis. I'm not your sister."
"Fine. What should I call you, then? Riley? Riles? Dog Whisperer?"
I shot him a look. "How about 'the person who's about to make your life miserable'?"
He laughed, and the sound was low and warm, like the rumble of a distant thunderstorm. "I like you already."
The door creaked open again, and a tall woman stepped inside. She had perfectly styled hair and a notebook tucked under her arm. Her eyes lit up when she saw Colton, and I felt a surge of irritation I couldn't explain.
"Colton Hayes," she said, her voice smooth and practiced. "I’m Vanessa Carlisle. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Colton's smirk faltered for a moment before he turned to Vanessa. "This isn't the place for an interview. If you want to talk, I'll see if the team can set something up at the rink."
Vanessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between us. "And who's this?"
Colton opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. "Riley James. His babysitter."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. The media had circled Colton for weeks, sniffing out his next move like vultures. I shouldn't have been surprised she found him here, but its speed made my stomach twist.
"Interesting," she said, her voice dripping with curiosity. "A babysitter, huh? That's not what I've been told."
Colton stiffened, and I saw a crack in his armor for the first time. "What are you talking about?"
Vanessa smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Let's just say I have my sources. And they're very interested in what's really going on here."
Vanessa's gaze flicked between Colton and me.
As she walked away, Colton turned to me, his expression unreadable.
I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. Colton Hayes was a walking headline. If I weren't careful, I'd end up in the middle of his mess.
But as much as I wanted to walk away, I couldn't. Not when Ryan had asked me for help. Not when Colton's smirk hid something that didn't match his attitude. Something I was going to get to the bottom of.
"Looks like we're stuck with each other," Colton said, his voice low. "Better get used to it."
He turned away before I could answer, but my pulse was already thudding in my ears.
Maybe I was imagining it, but there was something in his voice. It didn’t sound like teasing. It sounded like resignation. I’d been thinking I was the one getting stuck with a mess. Now I wasn’t so sure who felt more cornered.
Chapter two
Colton: Sparks & Opposition
Ilingered by the counter at the front of the dog shelter, watching Riley move around the room like she owned the place. Which, technically, she did. Or at least, she ran it.
I hadn’t expected Ryan’s little sister to turn out like this. She was confident, sharp-tongued, and had a glare that could freeze the rink. She wasn’t the shy kid I remembered trailing after us during college breaks. This Riley moved like she belonged.
And her voice wasn’t hesitant or sweet like I vaguely remembered. It was crisp. Commanding. This Riley was… different. And it was throwing me off.
“I need to check on something in the back,” Riley said, setting her clipboard down. “Stay here, and don’t scare the dogs—they’ve been through enough without adding you to the mix.”
I rested one hip against the counter. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything crashing down on me. Silver Ridge wasn’t where I was supposed to be. I was supposed to be in the NHL, scoring goals and living the dream. Instead, I was here, in a dogshelter, being lectured by Ryan’s little sister. How had it come to this?
I hated how people looked at me now, like I was some cautionary tale. The golden boy who’d fallen from grace. It wasn’t just the scandal with the married woman, though that had been the final straw. It was everything—the partying, the missed curfews, the headlines. I’d become a walking PR nightmare. Worse, I didn’t have a clue how to stop it.
I crouched next to Max, the scruffy terrier who now seemed interested in me. He rolled onto his back and pawed the air, angling for a belly rub. I hesitated before reaching out, unsure why something so simple felt strangely significant.
