Puking My Hockey Rival

Chapter13

SIENNA'S POV

“So you are really dating the hockey guy?”

Dolvin’s voice cut through the low, comforting hum of the lounge, her fork hovering halfway to a slice of truffle flatbread.

Across the banquette, the rest of our small circle leaned in, glasses clinking against the marble table as they waited for confirmation of the rumor that had been dominating our group chat for forty-eight hours.

“Yes,” I replied, offering a smooth, convincing smile that didn't reach my eyes quite enough to look defensive, but held enough warmth to sell it entirely. “I am. The rumours are true ladies, this girl right here has finally found love.”

Around the table, a chorus of delighted gasps and low whistles went up. We were a core of four friends, tight-knit since college, though life and careers had stretched us thin over the years.

Dolvin and I had always been the closest, while Sarah and Layla seemed to click more.

Right now, both of them sat across from us, each holding very different facial expressions to my response.

Before I go further, I'd like to say that Sarah was the wildcard of the group, the one who always caused the most issue. And she was the one I glanced at last, after my response.

Sarah was currently grinding away as an intern reporter at a major news network, and as our eyes locked, she narrowed her eyes over the rim of her martini glass.

“What?” I queried innocently with a half-shrug.

She smirked, lowering her glass. “I just find the whole thing a bit funny and quite frankly, confusing too,” Sarah said, her tone clipped with the careful precision of someone who was heavily curious but still trying to not offend anyone.

“Neither of us knew you were even talking to Luca, and suddenly you're arm-in-arm at a foundation gala. How did you two even meet and start dating without any of us suspecting a thing?”

I blinked, the question kind of throwing me off even though I'd expected someone to ask that at some point in the story.

But then, quickly I reminded myself that I’d built an entire career on managing public perception, spinning a narrative to thousands of people. Most people would call it being fake but who cares?

“We decided to keep it low-key,” I replied smoothly, adjusting the heavy gold bracelet on my wrist. “We met in August last year, remember when I went to Santorini for that influencer trip with Rhode?”

The girls nodded, Sarah included. “He was there, vacationing I guess.” I shrugged, pasting what I hoped was a dreamy smile onto my face.

“We struck things off, but you know…with the sheer number of rabid fans and girl crushes he has, going public too early would have been a nightmare for his publicity. Plus, a high-profile start invites unnecessary scrutiny and jealousy. We wanted to protect what we were building before putting it on display.”

“So why go public now?” Sarah pressed, leaning forward, her brows furrowed.

Before I could manufacture an answer, Dolvin rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively.

“Um, duh, Sarah. Have you not seen the rumors going around the sports blogs lately about him being gay? Of course they'd want to kill that nonsense narrative ASAP.”

Sarah opened her mouth, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. “I mean, sure, image control is a thing, but jumping from complete radio silence to a public debut just feels a little…”

“Oh, stop being such a dork,” Layla chimed in, cutting her off with a sharp wave of her hand. “How could Sienna be lying about this anyway? She's huge. She has an entire platform and brand to protect, she wouldn't risk her credibility on a fake relationship.”

I swallowed hard.

Sarah paused, her expression tightening. “That's not a very good comparison. Influencers are practically known for faking things and lying…” She caught herself mid-sentence, glancing around and noting the displeased looks on our faces.

Sarah's cheeks flushed a faint pink. “God, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Sienna. That came out awful.”

I waved her off with a light, airy laugh, flashing a confident smile that radiated absolute, unshakable certainty, even as I sat floating on top of a massive lie.

“Relax, Sarah. I know you're just stressed with the new internship.”

Underneath the table, I pulled my phone out of my lap, tapped open my messages, and sent a quick text to Luca.

“Call me. Now.”

L: “why? What's up?”

S: “just do it.”

Ten seconds later, the screen lit up against my knee.

I let out a soft, theatrical gasp, holding up a finger to the table as if caught off guard by my busy, important hockey-player boyfriend.

I swiped the screen and brought the phone to my ear, pitching my voice just loud enough for everyone in the booth to hear.

“Hey, baby,” I said, laying the honeyed sweetness on thick.

I paused for a beat, letting him process whatever bewildered response he was about to give, before pulling the phone away from my ear with a bright, adoring look.

“That's my man calling,” I announced to the table.

The girls beamed, cooing instantly over the romantic interruption, all except Sarah, who sat back against the leather cushion with a tight smile and deeply narrowed eyes, watching me closely.

She was going to be a problem, I could already feel it.