11. Lola

Lola

I sit in my hotel room with a hand over my mouth, staring down at my phone. It's been buzzing nonstop since I got out of bed, but I tried to ignore it as I went through my morning routine. Finally, I picked it up and tapped on the screen, only to find a sea of notifications on my lock screen.

I've been discovered—someone must have recognized me at the game two nights ago because people online have connected me to the original meet-cute video. Someone has sent me a whole series of TikToks outlining every moment of my hockey appearances, coupled with the little excerpts and writing updates I've shared on my Instagram story.

@rebeccalee44 OMG—of course it's a romance writer that is soooooo cute #meetcute

@underscore_ Guys, we need to remember that these are people, and they deserve the right to their privacy

@romancegurlie2, the woman in the meet-cute video is @AuthorLolaBurke #confirmed. She was seen at ANOTHER Vipers game tonight

— Reply to @romancegurlie2 @rebeccalee44 If she was at a Vipers game, why is she wearing a Maple Leaves jersey

— Reply to @rebeccalee44 @romancegurlie2 My guess is that she doesn't want people catching on to what she's doing

— Reply to @romancegurlie2 @hockey4eva She's totally dating Chambers. Check out this video

I click over to the linked video and watch as the camera zooms in on Devon in the penalty box, passing his stick from hand to hand, looking pissed. His gaze tracks upward, and the video pauses as someone comes on screen.

"Okay, so we see Chambers look up into this area of the arena," they say, and a schematic of the arena comes on the screen. The person talking draws a little circle right in the spot where I'd been sitting, and then an image of me in my Maple Leaves jersey appears on the screen. "This is right where Lola Burke—of romance book fame—was sitting. You can't convince me that these two aren't boning."

I click away from the video, my heart pounding. Devon Chambers, a professional hockey player, could potentially be watching a video about me and how obsessed I am with him. As though they're not under my control, my fingers bring the video up again, and I watch him look up toward the seats at the side.

Was he looking at me?

Why would he be? Other than the moment when I'd screamed, there would be no reason for me to gain his attention. My neck heats with embarrassment. If he did notice me, then he's probably at the courthouse right now, filing a restraining order.

My phone pings with a text from Maisie.

U writing now? Want me to beta?

I glance across the hotel room at my laptop sitting idle on the desk. I haven't touched it since I got here. I've just been scribbling in my notebook, but maybe it's time to keep working on the actual story.

I haven't written a lot yet. Maybe when I have more , I text back to Maisie.

She replies with a series of emojis, but I ignore them and move to the desk, sighing as I sit down. In the year since my last series bombed, there's been a mounting sense of anxiety every time I sit down to write. I feel it now, but I open the laptop quickly and start writing, trying to coax my brain into that soft, flowing state where the words come quickly, and it feels like I'm not thinking at all.

I start to write, thinking about that moment when Devon, still moving along on the ice, looked up at me, his mouth guard in one corner of his mouth. I think about the way it felt, the wink that made my entire body heat up.

The words come easily for hours until my phone pings again. The sound breaks me out of my flow, and I take a deep breath, realizing I'm starving and need to pee. I stand up and go to the bathroom, then return to the desk, pick up my phone, and find an email from my agent.

The publisher is on board for the hockey romance.

I close my eyes, feeling the relief in my knees. I'm not out of time—someone is still willing to take a chance on me.

The advance for the first book is much less than what I got for my last series, but I can't afford to be picky. It's not about the money, anyway. It's about redeeming myself, giving my fans another love story, and showing everyone I can still write an amazing book.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Maisie," I say, falling back onto the bed. "I just got a deal for the series!"

"That's amazing!" Maisie exclaims, squealing into the line. "I'm so happy for you, girl!"

"Yeah, my heart is like pounding right now. I can hardly believe it's happening. It's like I had just told myself that I was done, and now I have another chance to do this thing."

"You deserve it. But, girl, I have to know. Is it true?" Maisie asks.

"Is what true?"

"You're dating Devon Chambers?"

"What? No! I would have told you," I laugh. "It's all just a bunch of speculation. You should know better than to believe something you see on the internet."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't ghosted me this past year," she says, and there's a note of genuine hurt in her voice. I bite my lip, knowing there's truth in what she says. After my last book bombed, I couldn't handle talking to anyone.

"Maisie," I say apologetically, running my hand along the hem of my shirt. "I'm sorry. I haven't been in a great place lately. It's not an excuse, but it's the truth."

"I accept your apology, but only if you invite me out to see you."

"Okay," I say, laughing and already thinking of what we could do in New York together. "It's about time you came out to the east coast, anyway."

When I get off the phone with Maisie, it's close to game time, so I gather my things quickly, shutting my laptop and tucking my notebook into my bag. My hotel is only a short walk to the arena, so I fall in line with the other fans, stopping to buy a Kraken jersey and other merchandise at the last second before going into the arena.