“I’ve spent too long letting other people’s choices affect me. That stops now. I’m proud to be part of the Wolverines for as long as they’ll have me. I’m proud to be back where I belong.”
Coach nods slightly beside me.
“Any questions?” Kelsey asks. Hands shoot up immediately. Kelsey calls on one, and a reporter in the front row speaks first, her voice sharp.
“Was this part of the reason you were aggressive on the ice earlier this season?”
“Yeah, I won’t lie. The stress of the constant harassment did have me feeling stressed on and off the ice. That isn’t an excuse for excessive violence during play, however, and I take full accountability for my previous actions.”
Nods from the crowd.
Another reporter steps forward. “Rhodes, is it true you’re in a relationship with Monroe Abrams, the daughter of your head coach? Do you feel that presents a conflict of interest?”
Beside me, Coach Abrams stiffens. His jaw locks as he leans toward the mic.
“This press conference is about clearing Rhodes’ name,” he says, voice low and final, “not his personal life.”
Another reporter jumps in, undeterred.
“Still, given Monroe Abrams’ past as a figure skater and her fall from the sport, do you think your relationship could affect your image, Rhodes? Some might say being involved with a crashed and burnedskater could—”
I don’t even let him finish.
My grip tightens on the mic. “Watch how you talk about her.”
The room stills. My voice isn’t raised, but it doesn’t have to be.
“She didn’t crash and burn. She’s one of the most talented skaters in the world. And I don’t need to justify who I’m with to any of you.”
“So, it’s serious then?” another reporter yells before we can cut them off.
Kelsey moves the mic to shut it down, but I yank it back, needing everyone to understand where I stand with Monroe.
“Yes, it’s fucking serious.”
The words settle like a weight in the air. The reporter looks down. Beside me, Kelsey smirks just slightly before schooling her face into the picture of neutrality.
I push the mic back out of my face. Kelsey smoothly wraps things up.
“That’s all we’re addressing today. Thank you.”
We stand. Cameras still snapping. Reporters still shouting questions as they’re led from the room. But I don’t hear any of it. I follow Coach and Kelsey out of the back of the room, the noise fading behind us. Just outside the door, leaning casually against the wall, Monroe is waiting for me. She doesn’t say anything at first, just gives me a once-over, like she’s assessing whether I survived.
Then she smirks. “Welcome back, Captain.”
I huff out a breath, finally feeling the tension start to bleed from my shoulders. “I’m glad it’s over.”
She steps closer, fingers brushing lightly against my wrist. Just enough contact to ground me. “You did good,” she says, low.
The noise of the media room fades behind us, footsteps echoing down the hallway as people file out. Ahead of us, Coach is walking a few paces in front, Kelsey beside him, already on her phone, probably scheduling another crisis right out of existence.
But then Coach glances back, his gaze landing on the two of us. His eyes drop to where Monroe’s fingers are still tangled with mine, then back to my face. His expression is unreadable.
We haven’t really talked about…this. Not since that first conversation when he made it clear Monroe was off-limits. I clearly didn’t listen and I can’t find it in me anywhere to feel sorry for not heeding my coach’s warning. He studies me for a beat longer, like he’s weighing something.
Then he clears his throat. “Serious, huh?” He narrows his eyes.
Monroe hides a smile into the side of my arm, and instinctively, I tuck her closer.