Chapter 6 Hunters

Keisha's POV

The moment the conference room doors opened, I knew I was going to die. Not literally, but emotionally, socially and possibly spiritually.

Camera flashes exploded from every direction at once. Voices crashed into each other so fast I couldn't separate one from the next.

"Cole!"

"Over here!"

"Rayner!"

"Keisha, look this way!"

My feet actually stopped moving for a second. The room was packed wall to wall, rows of reporters behind long tables, camera crews lined up against the walls, students crowded in the back holding their phones up like they were at a concert. Some of the badges I recognized. A couple of reporters from the Chronicle, people I'd seen around the journalism building a hundred times. But there were others too. National Sports Network, college Athletics Weekly and campus Spotlight.

This was supposed to be a university press conference, not a presidential debate for Pete's sake.

"Keep walking."

Miss Patterson appeared beside me out of nowhere and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Smile."

"I am smiling."

"No. You're showing your teeth. That's different."

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.

"Less murder victim," she whispered, steering me forward by the elbow.

Wonderful, incredible advice. Truly transformative.

Ahead of us Coach Tucker was already deep in conversation with someone holding a clipboard, completely unbothered, like this was just another Tuesday. Beside me, Cole looked disgustingly calm. No sweat, no panic. Nothing on his face suggested he understood the magnitude of what was about to happen to both of us.

I hated him a little more for that.

"Play it safe," Coach Tucker said to him as we passed, and Cole just nodded, the two of them exchanging some silent athlete language I would never understand, like they were discussing a power play instead of my impending public humiliation.

Arrogant bastard. Even his nodding was confident.

We took our seats at the front table side by side, and the questions started before I'd even gotten comfortable in the chair.

Hands shot up everywhere.

"Cole, how long have you two been together?"

"Did the relationship start before the breakup with Jana?"

"Is this affecting team chemistry?"

"What about the sex tape rumors?"

I felt my soul attempt a quiet, dignified exit from my body.

Coach Tucker raised one hand from somewhere off to the side.

"We won't be discussing private rumors."

Another reporter stood up before the last one had even finished sitting down.

"Lakeisha."

Every single head in that room turned toward me.

I froze. A microphone found its way in front of me so fast I didn't even see who was holding it.

"Do you love Cole Rayner?"

The room went completely silent.

I blinked. What?... That wasn't even a real question. That was psychological warfare disguised as journalism.

"Lakeisha?" the reporter said again, gentler this time, like I was a small frightened animal that needed coaxing.

My mouth opened but nothing came out. I heard Miss Patterson somewhere behind me, a whisper so quiet only I could catch it.

"Answer."

Answer what? I wasn't actually dating him. I hated him. Didn't I? I'd hated him for two weeks straight, ever since the staircase, ever since the glasses comment, ever since…

"Um." My voice cracked on one syllable.

"Um."

The entire room leaned forward like one organism. God. This was actually happening. I was actually going to be remembered as the girl who froze mid-sentence on camera in front of three different sports networks.

Then a warm hand settled against my waist that I nearly came out of my skin.

Cole.

He pulled me toward him, just slightly, not enough to look staged, just enough to look like something a real couple would do without thinking about it.

"My girl's camera shy," he said, easy as anything, like we'd done this a hundred times.

Everyone in the room laughed. Actual warm laughter, not mocking, just charmed. Heat flooded straight up my neck and into my face.

My girl?

"She spends most of her time behind the camera," he went on, not even glancing at me, completely unbothered. "Trust me, she prefers asking the questions to answering them."

There was more laughter and suddenly, the tension in the room cracked and dissolved like it had never been there.

How? How did he just do that?

Another reporter stood, pen already moving. "So the relationship is real?"

"Very real." He said it without a flicker of hesitation, and I genuinely almost choked on my own spit.

"We've been keeping things private," he added.

Private my ass. We had known each other for exactly one staircase collision and three increasingly violent arguments, one of which had involved a textbook to the skull.

Another hand went up. "What about Jana Chambers?"

The room's energy shifted instantly. I felt my whole body go stiff. So did Coach Tucker, off to the side, his arms crossing slowly.

"There are rumors that Lakeisha was involved in the breakup," the reporter continued. "Any truth to that?"

For the first time all morning, something changed in Cole's face. The easy smile dropped clean off and his jaw tightened.

"No."

It was immediate, firm and final.

"No?" the reporter pressed.

"No." He didn't blink. "She wasn't involved."

"You're saying she had nothing to do with the article that exposed your relationship?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

The room quieted. Pens started scratching against notepads.

"Then why was her name on it? Or are you just defending her?"

"See, mistakes happen, okay?" Cole said. "Somebody put the wrong byline on a story. That's it. That's the whole scandal."

"So you're defending her?"

He turned and looked directly at the reporter who'd asked it.

"I'm correcting you."

The silence that followed felt different from the one before. It felt heavier, like the whole room had just recalibrated something.

"There isn't a sex tape," he said, flat and clear. "My career isn't falling apart, and I'd appreciate it if people stopped acting like Lakeisha deserves to get torn apart online because some strangers got bored on a Tuesday morning."

My breath caught somewhere in my chest and stayed there. The room had gone completely still. Nobody had expected that. I certainly hadn't expected that.

I turned my head and looked at him, but he wasn't looking back at me. His eyes stayed locked on the reporters, calm, steady, like every word had cost him nothing at all, like he meant it.

Something twisted uncomfortably behind my ribs, something I didn't have a name for and didn't particularly want one. Because for the first time since this entire disaster started, Cole Rayner sounded like he was actually protecting me. Not performing it for cameras, or doing it because Coach Tucker told him to.

Just doing it.

The conference dragged on for another twenty minutes. More questions, more photos, more smiling until my cheeks ached from holding the same expression too long. By the time someone finally announced it was over, I felt like I'd run a marathon I never signed up for.

Relief hit me so hard I almost laughed out loud.

It was over. Thank God, it was actually over.

Cole and I stood and started toward the exit, and for one blissful second I let myself believe the worst part of my day had already happened.

Then a voice rang out from the back of the room.

"Wait! One more question!"

We stopped. Every camera in the room swung back around like a single creature turning its head.

The reporter who'd called it stood up, grinning in a way that immediately made my stomach drop straight through the floor.

"Cole." He pointed between the two of us, still grinning. "If she's really your girlfriend…"

Oh no.

"....kiss her."

The room exploded. Cheers, laughter, somebody actually whistled. Phones shot up in every direction, a forest of them, all pointed straight at us.

Beside me, Cole went completely still.

And every single camera in that room waited.