Chapter 23

Delia woketo the smell of bacon. It was almost enough to stave off the dread that slugged her in the stomach seconds after she registered where she was. In her room. In her bed. Where she"d curled up after crying her eyes out. With?—

She rolled and found it was a pillow against her back, not Jack. Her dread turned to worry. Had he stayed the whole night? Had she kept him from his hockey commitments? Delia groaned and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Seven thirty. Surprising she"d slept so late considering she"d gotten into bed just after eight.

Another waft of bacon fat hit her nostrils. Was Mary cooking? Mary never cooked, but considering the circumstances, she wouldn"t be surprised if her friend had decided to go emergency domestic. Delia took off her knitted sweater from the night before and pulled on a cotton crewneck. No bra. No bra for the rest of forever.

Delia picked up her phone. Two new messages from her mom and a hundred others she wasn't able to deal with at the moment. She tapped on her mother's name.

Thinking of you always

Work was good. Breathing well, so no more articles, love ??

Delia blew out a slow breath and pressed on her mother's number. She couldn't put it off any longer.

Each time the phone rang, Delia's pulse kicked up a notch. She wanted her mom to pick up so she could share the awful news and get it over with, but when it went to voicemail, she breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could spit it out without answering any questions. Or crying again because she was already halfway there just hearing her mother's voice telling her to leave a message.

"Maman. I don't know if you've heard anything in the news, but someone posted a video online. It's fake. It's a sex tape of me that they made with AI tools. Tony said he and the lawyer at IndieLake are working on it, and I'm so sorry something like this happened, and I love you—" Her voice broke. "Anyway, I needed to tell you. It'll be fine. I'm doing fine, and I hope you have a great day, and I miss you." Delia ended the call before her voice lifted into a supersonic register.

She dropped her phone, padded into the washroom and brushed her teeth, scouring her mouth of the moments spent above the toilet the night before. Ugh. Jack had heard that. He"d seen her completely melt down. No wonder he"d left before he had to face her in the light of day.

She splashed cold water on her face, peed, then washed her hands, shut off the washroom light, and fell back on the bed, grabbing her phone. Her heart slammed against her ribs the second she swiped up on the screen. It was out there. That video. If it had already started to go viral when Tony put out an SOS, what had it done overnight?

Delia knew she shouldn"t look at it. She knew it would destroy her mental health. If she struggled to see low-res pictures of her walking down the street or couldn't handle holding Jack"s hand, what would it feel like to see a rendition of herself nude? In compromising positions?

Still. Curiosity ate at her insides like battery acid. Maybe she didn"t have to search up the video. She could go on her socials and feel things out through her followers? She tapped on the screen because not looking wasn"t an option.

Had she been standing, her knees would"ve buckled at the number of notifications blaring at the top of her feed. Panic and desperation burbled up her esophagus, but she couldn"t stop herself from clicking.

@oldminer: And this is all women are good for, amiright?

The caption sat under a black square with the message, "This video has been removed for explicit content." At least there was that. Delia scrolled to the next post.

@helikeshats: I didn"t like her voice until I heard her beg

Bile rose in her throat. She moved to the next. And the next. Tears stung her eyes, but she couldn"t stop. One after another, the captions were like paper cuts. Like candle snuffers, burying her in darkness.

When she thought she might need to run to the washroom again, something appeared on her screen and she froze. Delia blinked, the face in front of her not making any sense.

Jack.

Had someone posted a fake video of him now? Jack didn"t have social media accounts, or if he did, he never posted. But there he was. His face—his dark eyes and morning stubble—taking up the entire frame. It didn"t register for another fifteen seconds that his mouth was moving but there was no sound.

Delia restarted the video and turned up the volume.

"Hey, this is the first time I"ve ever posted something on this app, and I"m going to be honest, I"m not thrilled to be here. I"m a private person, but something happened yesterday that I felt compelled to speak up about."

Delia"s heart jumped into her throat. Was this real? Jack was wearing the same grey cotton shirt he"d been wearing the night before. Had he recorded this last night? Was that why he left?

"By now, many of you have seen or heard about a video circulating online showing my girlfriend, Delia Melise. I"m not here to give it more airtime than it"s already stolen, but here"s the thing—it"s fake. Completely and utterly bogus, but the damage it"s doing is real. Not just to Delia."

Jack ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. "I"ve been thinking a lot about this since I watched the woman I care about shrink because of a bullshit video. She"s not the first to have something like this happen to her, and I know she won"t be the last. I"m going to censor myself here because I don"t want this video to come down, but trust me when I say there is no word strong enough in the English language to describe how pissed off I am that men think they have a right to consume a woman"s body. They don"t." Jack"s eyes glared directly into the camera. "You don"t."

He took a moment to compose himself, drawing a deep breath. "I don"t care whether the videos are real, leaked, or in this case AI curated, everyone here on this app and others like it?" He made a circle with his hands. "We"re the problem. That shit wouldn"t get shared if people here refused to watch it, so I"m asking you to put on your big boy pants and shut it down. Vote with your clicks and attention. I refuse to participate in a system that uses people. My dad always said, ‘Use things, love people, and worship God.'" Jack clasped and unclasped his hands, then growled, "Delia is not a damn thing."

He let that hang in the air a moment, then cleared his throat. "I ask that you join me in reporting this absolute embarrassing filth now and in the future. And if you"re in Calgary, I"ll see you on the ice tonight."

Delia pressed pause as the video looped. She reached up, shocked to find her cheeks were wet. That light inside her that had been reduced to smoke and ash seconds before was now blazing. Delia is not a damn thing.

She closed the app and flipped over to her contacts and found Jack"s number. Texting wasn"t fast enough, she needed to talk to him—to hear his voice. She pressed his number and waited for the call to connect. Her shoulders drooped when it went straight to voicemail.

"Damn it," she muttered, then realized he was probably on his way to work. Her stomach gurgled—she hadn't eaten anything since late afternoon the day before. She pulled her hair up into a claw clip and walked into the hall, then made it halfway down the stairs before she heard the voices.

Delia stopped and looked up, then stilled with the toes of her right foot barely touching the next step.

Men.So many men in the living room. Her brain finally started processing faces, though many of them didn"t look familiar. She saw Country and her heart kicked into high gear. If he was here, then?—

"Good morning." Jack"s eyes were shadowed. Wary and hopeful. "I made breakfast, there"s?—"

Delia bolted down the rest of the stairs and ran to him, not caring that she had purple bags under her eyes or that she hadn"t thought to put on deodorant. She threw herself into his arms.

He grunted, then absorbed her into his safe harbour. But she wasn"t satisfied with resting her head against his chest. With letting her heart match his rhythm. With saying a whispered "thank you."

That flame that had roared to life inside her bedroom was raging like a damn forest fire, and she had to do something to quell the heat. It was pure, unadulterated instinct. Desire. Need that shot Delia"s hand up to wrap around Jack"s neck and pull his face to hers.

He was strong. He was safe. He was funny and charming as hell.

She kissed him, kneading her fingers against his skin, pressing her mouth so fully against Jack's, she could taste him. She pulled his lower lip into her mouth and released, ran her tongue over his, breathed his air, and none of it was enough. What Jack had done—what he"d said—was the hottest thing she"d ever heard in her life.

It was only when she remembered she and Jack weren"t alone in the room, not by a long shot, that she reigned herself in. Delia pulled back, panting. "Sorry."

"For what?" Jack murmured.

"That was impulsive."

"Uh-huh." His breath came in quick bursts, and as he searched her face, he looked like he might lift her up and carry her back up the stairs.

She wanted him to. Her inner thighs ached. Her ribs expanded like they might rip her in half. Delia clenched her hands against his skin, then dropped them from his neck and stepped back, letting Jack"s hands fall from her waist.

"So . . . I"m assuming you told her?" Tyler leaned on the desk next to what looked like the Matrix"s back office.

Delia looked between Tyler and Jack. "Told me what?"

A shy smile crept onto Jack's face, and she wanted to kiss him all over again.

Then reality hissed against the blaze inside her. What was everyone doing there? Why did it look like there was a whale's umbilical cord stretching across the floor? How long had the Snowballs been there, and why did she still smell bacon?

Jack shifted on his feet. "Did I ever mention to you that Tyler works in cyber security?"

_____

Jack sat across from Delia in the kitchen, barely able to sit still.

"So, let me get this straight." Delia took a bite of her sandwich, her words slightly muffled by a mouthful of egg and cheese. "Tyler turned into a cyber ninja overnight."

"I think he was already a cyber ninja."

"Which was why you brought him in?"

Jack nodded. "I didn"t know if he"d have any ideas, but I figured it was worth a shot."

"He did it?"

"If by "did it" you mean got the original video down, yes. There are still plenty of clips circulating, and we"re working on that." He looked behind him through the window into the living area where his teammates were dismantling the equipment. Jack glanced at his phone. Eight fifteen. He had just enough time to get home and shower before he needed to start working for the day, but no part of him wanted to leave that kitchen.

Delia shook her head, her eyes glassy as she chewed. "I don"t even know what to say."

Jack wanted to explain how much he"d enjoyed the way she"d thanked him earlier, then thought better of it. That was impulsive. Delia was grateful. Delia had big feelings. Those things had come through loud and clear. Jack was dying to know if there was anything else behind that kiss, and that slicked any excitement with an oily film.

He wanted this. For the first time in years, he woke up in the morning excited to see someone. Elated to see her name pop up on his phone. As cliché as it sounded, that kiss had made him feel superhuman. Like it didn't matter he was quitting his job because, of course, he'd get a contract next season with the Blizzard.

You"re allowed to want to be happy. That thought slid like a skewer into his gut. He could want happiness, but could he have it? They lived in a temporary bubble now, but Delia would go back to Toronto. He'd be there in Calgary.

Nevermind the logistical issues, was it possible for him to open up again? He"d never tried—never wanted to try. Until right then.

"What can I do for you?" Delia wiped a bit of mustard from her lips.

Jack frowned. "What?"

"Do you have data entry you need done? Your washroom cleaned? Dinner tonight? Please, let me do something to thank you for this."

"Delia—"

"I"m serious, Jack. I"m going to go insane if I have to sit here all day in your debt."

He laughed. "You"re not in my debt."

"You missed practice last night! Don"t even try to deny it, and you"re probably going to be late for work—yes, I know you"re quitting Big Rick, but you don"t strike me as the kind of guy who slacks off in his last two weeks. Plus, I know you want to spend more time with your teammates, and?—"

"Okay, okay." Jack held up his hands in defeat. He thought about Clara"s texts that morning.

Shorthanded at the hospital

Picked up an extra shift

Not coming home this morning, but I"ll be back around four

She was working a double, and Oscar was in Vancouver for another day and a half. Jack exhaled. "Dinner. Clara"s working a double shift, and I have a game tonight. Dinner for her would be great."

Delia beamed at him. "Dinner it is."

She wouldn"t let him clean up the rest of breakfast, so Jack reluctantly walked back out into the living room and helped carry the last of the equipment out to Tyler"s truck. The morning was surprisingly warm without a hint of wind. "Thanks again, bud. You"re a miracle worker."

Tyler slammed the back door shut. "Still a lot of work to do. I"ll keep reporting the clips, and hopefully it'll start to lose traction."

Jack nodded. "Me, too. With all of us on offence, I"m sure it won"t take long."

"Speaking of offence, tonight determines your seed for the playoffs, right?"

Jack nodded. "I think we"ll win. Should be up in Edmonton by Monday."

"You feeling connected with those guys?"

Jack shrugged. All of his momentum where that was concerned had been killed by the last forty-eight hours. "Working on it."

Tyler clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You"re a hell of a player. Ignore the circus, eh?"

Jack nodded, then turned back to the house. He walked inside, but the only thing he found in the kitchen was the hum of the dishwasher and drying baking sheets.

He could look for her. He could walk up the stairs like he had last night and slip onto her bed?—

Jack stopped at the bottom of the staircase. She was talking to someone. Mary. He heard a shriek of laughter, patted the bannister, and walked out the front door to his truck. He turned the key in the ignition, the low rumble of his engine breaking the morning stillness in the neighborhood. Either nobody commuted or they"d all left already. He went on autopilot, enjoying the blue skies and the hint of buds on the tree branches.

He arrived home in twelve minutes flat and parked the truck in the driveway. It seemed like a week, and he took a moment to let the sun warm his face before walking inside. Since he"d been there last, his life had flipped upside down.

On the outside, not much had changed. He"d put in his two weeks notice, but that was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

You"re allowed to want to be happy.

He wanted the NHL. He was working to accept that he sure as hell wanted Delia.

But who was he to have a happily ever after? He didn"t deserve that more than anyone else. He certainly didn"t deserve it more than Angie.

Jack"s shoulders bunched as he walked to his room and stripped off his clothes, tossing them in his dirty bin in the closet. He checked his phone before plugging it in. It was at ten percent after sitting out all night next to Delia"s bed.

Heat pooled in his middle thinking about holding her. Sleeping next to her. Then feeling her desperate, hungry kiss that morning and wishing he could"ve picked her up and carried her right back up the stairs to that bed.

Jack opened a text from Country.

You"re already at 300k views, bud. Might want to read the comments this time

Jack"s jaw flexed. Good. He wasn"t ready to check it, but he made a mental note to open his brand-new socials that afternoon. He tapped on a text from Ben, his product manager at Big Rick.

Just got the news. Sucks that you"re leaving, but good on you

Wanted you to know that coat"s ready whenever you want to pick it up

Jack plugged in his phone and stalked into the attached washroom and turned on the shower.

Hot.