Chapter 156: Make the Call

NORA’S POV

The silence between us stretched, surrounded by the chatter of the crowded concourse.

Vanessa’s words hung in the warm arena air like a direct challenge.

She hovered her manicured hand between us, her painted lips curled into the same smug sneer she had used since I’ve known her. She clearly expected me to shake, drop the drinks, or stumble over an apology.

Instead, a quiet calm settled into my bones.

At the beginning of this semester, an ambush like this would have sent my heart skittering into my throat. I would have worried about my campus standing, my tutoring stipend, and the whispered judgments.

That girl was gone.

"Copies, Vanessa?" I asked, keeping my tone mild and conversational as steam curled gently from the lids of the peppermint tea. "You mean the contract Chloe broke into Knox’s house to steal? The one Dean Hastings already reviewed before placing Chloe on disciplinary probation?"

Vanessa’s sneer stiffened, a flicker of irritation passing behind her eyes.

"Chloe was reckless and got caught," Vanessa whispered, her voice dropping lower as two corporate donors in charcoal overcoats strolled past toward the escalators.

"She didn’t know how to play the board. But I do. An academic dean protects the athletic department because winning games brings in alumni checks. The professional hockey world doesn’t play by those rules."

She stepped closer to me, the strong scent of her expensive gardenia perfume stinging my nose.

"You think an NHL general manager wants a top draft pick tangled up in an escort-style scandal?" Vanessa murmured, leaning so close I could see the fine powder settled on her cheekbones.

"A work-study girl on the university payroll paid thousands of dollars to pose as his girlfriend and keep him academically eligible? One call to the sports committee or NHF, Bennett. That’s all it takes. Knox’s reputation turns to garbage before the first round in June."

Standing perfectly still, I met her icy glare without blinking.

"Go ahead and make the call," I said evenly.

Vanessa’s chin jerked up in surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said call them," I repeated, holding her gaze. "Tell the federation that Knox Sheridan paid a girl to sit in the library with him, fell completely in love with her, bought out her family’s debt, and took her home. Tell them he spent his Friday morning teaching seven-year-olds how to skate while you stood by a concession stand clutching stolen paperwork."

I tilted my head, offering her a faint, pitying smile.

"Knox chose me because he actually likes who I am, Vanessa. And he couldn’t stand being in the same room as you."

Color rushed into Vanessa’s Cheeks... a sudden, furious crimson that broke right through her expensive foundation.

Her voice lost its hushed edge. "You insolent little..."

"Take one more step toward her, Vanessa, and see what happens to your father’s foundation seats."

The voice cut through the concourse like a blade of ice.

Vanessa froze instantly, her hand snapping back to her side.

Around us, several donors and university staff turned their heads at the authority in that voice.

Knox walked across the room with confident steps, completely in control.

He had showered and dressed in his formal team clothes... a tailored navy Briar varsity blazer, white button-down shirt, and dark trousers that fit his athletic frame well. His damp dark curls were neatly combed back, and his jaw was set firmly.

Bear and Jake walked alongside him, both tall in their navy blazers, their usual casual grins gone. Behind them, Priya jogged down the stairs from the second floor, quickly looking over the scene.

Knox closed the distance, coming to a halt directly between Vanessa and me.

His broad frame crowded her back by a full step, completely eclipsing her sight of me.

With his right hand, Knox reached behind him and found my hip, resting his fingers possessively against the wool of my sweater. The heat of his touch sent an instant wave of grounding reassurance straight down my spine.

"Knox," Vanessa gasped, recovering her haughty mask as she adjusted the lapel of her cashmere coat. "You shouldn’t let your little charity project wander around private donor areas. She has no concept of etiquette."

"Did watching Chloe get dragged before the dean on Monday not teach you a single thing, Vanessa?" Knox asked in a terrifyingly quiet voice.

"I’m trying to save you from yourself, Knox," Vanessa hissed, dropping her voice so only our circle could hear, though she looked a bit desperate. "Chloe took the fall, and even though the post is down, it’s the internet... nothing disappears. Keep dragging this little work-study girl around donor events, and see how fast those pages land on every sports editor’s desk in New England."

Knox’s jaw tightened with cold disgust. "You don’t even have the contract, Vanessa. Both original signed copies are locked safely in my drawer at home and in Nora’s binder. All you have are phone photos from Chloe breaking into my bedroom."

"And using photos of stolen property to threaten people is a criminal offense," Priya added, stepping right up beside me. "Dean Hastings and Campus Security already have the server logs from Chloe’s room. You want us to walk up those stairs right now and hand them your name as her accomplice? Let’s see how fast your father’s money saves you from an expulsion hearing."

Beside Knox, Bear let out a loud, mocking snort, taking a huge bite of his pretzel. "Yeah, Orwell. How do you think Harold’s donor buddies would feel watching campus security escort you out in front of the TV cameras?"

"Shut up, Davis!" Vanessa snapped, her voice trembling as her face flushed bright red.

Jake leaned against the concrete pillar, crossing his arms with a dry chuckle. "He’s not wrong, Vanessa. Look behind you. Even your father’s PR reps are sweating through their suits trying to figure out how to spin this."

Sure enough, the two Orwell Development representatives were hovering twenty feet away, whispering frantically into their phones while glancing anxiously at the donor badges milling around the lobby.

Knox stepped half an inch closer to Vanessa, forcing her to tilt her head all the way back to meet his stony gray eyes. "You want to call the Boston Globe? Be my guest. Tell them whatever you want."

Vanessa’s lips parted in genuine disbelief. "You think you’re untouchable? An NHL scout reads about a paid arrangement and..."

"An NHL scout cares if I can quarterback a power play and take a hit against the boards," Knox cut in ruthlessly. "They don’t give a damn about a fake contract that turned into a real relationship two months ago. But you know who does care about bad press?"

Knox gestured with his chin toward the high mezzanine balcony overlooking the concourse.

Standing along the glass railing were Athletic Director Pierce, Dean Hastings, and Harold Orwell himself, holding champagne flutes while looking down at the lobby commotion.

Harold’s expression was thunderous as he watched his daughter cornering Briar’s star captain in full view of five major endowment contributors.

"Your father," Knox said softly. "Harold Orwell put his company’s name on today’s clinic to clean up his family’s reputation after your little stunt with the athletic board. If you create a public scene right now, Pierce will strip Orwell Development’s branding off every wall of this arena before the afternoon banquet."

Vanessa glanced up at the balcony, catching her father’s furious stare. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her looking small, hollow, and utterly exposed.

"You chose her," Vanessa whispered. "Over me. Over everything our families built."

"I never chose you, Vanessa," Knox replied. "You were never an option. Nora is my girlfriend. She’s the only person in this arena who matters to me. Now get the hell away from her."

For three long seconds, Vanessa stood frozen on her stiletto heels, trembling with silent rage.

One of the Orwell PR handlers scurried over, clearing his throat awkwardly and touching Vanessa’s elbow. "Miss Orwell... the private suite presentation is starting upstairs. Your father is waiting."

Vanessa ripped her arm away from the handler’s grip. She cast one last, venom-filled glare at me, but I met her eyes with indifference.

Spinning on her heels, Vanessa marched toward the executive elevators, her two sycophants hurrying behind her like frantic shadows.

The tension in the concourse evaporated the moment the elevator doors slid shut.

Around us, the whispers died down as donors drifted toward the stairs and the aroma of roasted coffee filled the space once more.

Priya nudged my shoulder with a triumphant grin. "Ten out of ten for holding the line, Bennett. Did you see her twitch when you told her to call the press?"

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Priya," Jake chuckled, giving her a respectful nod.

"Too late, Callahan," Priya shot back smoothly. "You’re already on my watchlist."

The boys chuckled.

Knox remained silent, his attention locked entirely on me. His eyes searched my face, scanning for any lingering trace of distress.

Gently, he reached out and took both cups of peppermint tea from my hands, setting them onto a nearby high-top cocktail table. Then his large hands came up to frame my face, his warm thumbs brushing softly across my cheekbones.

"You okay, Bennett?" he asked.

"I’m more than okay," I said, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I told her to call the reporters."

A slow, devastating grin spread across Knox’s lips, his eyes crinkling with fierce pride.

"Did you now?" he murmured, leaning down until his forehead rested lightly against mine. "Look at you, being ruthless."

"I learned from the best captain in college hockey," I whispered back.

Knox chuckled softly. He tilted his chin and pressed a firm, lingering kiss to my lips right there in the middle of the crowded concourse.

The kiss was slow, and warm... an open, shameless claim that made heat bloom across my chest and settle in my stomach.

Behind us, Bear groaned loudly, covering his eyes with his pretzel bag. "Come on, Sheridan! We’re in formal wear! Save the mouth hockey for the team bus."

"Shut up, Bear," Knox murmured against my mouth, kissing me one more time before reluctantly pulling back.

He kept one arm wrapped securely around my waist, pulling me close to his side as Coach Brennan walked past, giving Knox a sharp, approving nod.

Above the ticket booths, the large digital ribbon board flashed with the day’s final charity numbers: SHERIDAN YOUTH CLINIC: $84,200 RAISED FOR REGIONAL PEDIATRICS.

"Not a bad morning’s work," Jake said, pointing up at the glowing sign.

"Not bad at all," Bear agreed, crumpling his empty pastry bag. He turned toward Knox and me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Which means we’re officially on mountain time. Who’s ready to pack?"

"Pack?" I asked, looking up at Knox.

Knox smiled down at me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"We leave for Emerald Pines next Friday morning," Knox said, his thumb caressing my hip. "Sugar & Spice is going to take that resort showcase by storm. And tonight, we celebrate."