The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife (Blair and Grayson) novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

~BLAIR

I woke up with a headache. In our private jet.

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Grayson sat close to me, elbows on his knees, phone in his hands, looking tired. He’s been like that ever since yesterday, after I had too much to drink and woke up a few hours later with aches all over, in places that didn’t even make sense.

Every time I tried to ask what happened, he shut the conversation down with a short answer or a change of subject. Something had taken place between us. Something he clearly regretted. And I was the only one who couldn’t remember it.

I pressed my fingers to my temples and sat up straighter.

The reason we were on this plane earlier than planned was impossible to ignore. Overnight, the story between us had gone a little crazy.

Someone-multiple someones had started posting that I was the reason Grayson Shaw’s relationship with his childhood sweetheart ended. That I had used Monroe money and influence to force the marriage. That I had deliberately pushed Lily Sinclair out of the way so I could take her place.

The posts were everywhere. Fan accounts. Hockey gossip pages. Comment sections that had turned

vicious in a matter of hours.

By morning the honeymoon photos that were supposed to sell the image of a strong alliance had become evidence in a trial I never agreed to stand in.

My father had called before sunrise. The tone in his voice left no room for discussion. We were leaving the island early. The narrative needed containing before it damaged more than reputations.

I stared at the back of the seat in front of me and tried to absorb how quickly everything had turned. A few days ago I had been the new wife giving interviews in a custom jersey. Now half the internet had decided I was a villain who destroyed a relationship for fun.

Grayson hadn’t said much about the rumors. He didn’t need to. The tension in his shoulders said enough. He was angry-at the situation, at the timing, maybe at me for reasons I still couldn’t access.

When the plane finally began its descent, I felt relief. At least on the ground there would be cars, distance, and a chance to breathe without unanswered questions pressing in from every side.

I was wrong.

The moment we stepped onto the jet bridge and moved toward the private terminal exit, the noise hit.

A small crowd had somehow gathered past the point where security should have stopped them.

Phones were already up. Someone shouted my name in a tone that held no friendliness.

I barely had time to register the movement before the first egg struck my shoulder.

The crack of the shell and the cold slide of yolk down my arm happened in the same second. I froze, stunned more by the audacity than the mess.

Another one followed, missing me by inches and hitting the floor in a wet splatter.

There were more people than there should have been. Security personnel were already moving, voices rising, but the damage had started.

I didn’t even have time to lift my arms.

Grayson moved first.

Successfully unlocked!

His hand closed around my wrist and yanked me behind him so fast I stumbled into his back. The next egg hit his chest with a dull sound. Another caught the side of his jacket. He didn’t flinch. He kept his body

Chapter 23

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squarely between me and the eluster of shouting faces, one arm angled back like he was prepared to stop we from stepping around him.

“Stay behind me,” he said.

I stared at the back of his shoulders, watching as he took the rest of the hits for me.

Why was he protecting me from them?

For days he had treated me like a problem to be managed. A debt. An inconvenience. Now he was taking hits meant for me without hesitation, using his body as a shield while security finally closed in and started forcing the group back.

Someone yelled something about Lily. Someone else called me a homewrecker.

Grayson didn’t turn around until the immediate path was cleared and staff were ushering us toward a waiting car.

Only then did he glance over his shoulder, eyes scanning me quickly for damage beyond the mess on my arm and the side of my dress.

“You okay?” he asked.

The question was rough. Practical. Not soft. But it was still more concern than i had expected from him.

I nodded once, not fully trusting my voice.

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