Page 99 of Meant for Mayhem

I smiled to myself before sliding my phone into my pocket.

Richard led Carter, Logan, and me into the media room, where a dozen reporters sat waiting with open laptops and cameras already pointed toward the podium. The second I walked in, conversations stopped.

We took our spots behind the microphones, and I twisted the cap off a Gatorade.

“Thanks, everyone,” Richard said from the side of the room. “We’ll get started.”

The first question came from a reporter in the first row.

“Mikko, congratulations on the win. Two assists, plus over twenty-five minutes of ice time tonight. This was your strongest game this season. Did it feel that way to you?”

“It felt good.”

Another hand went up.

“This is the first time you’ve spoken to us since you took a leave of absence at the start of the season. How are you feeling now?”

“Better.”

Richard hung his head, but Carter leaned toward the microphone.

“I think we all saw the Giant is back and feeling great.”

“Can you tell us what changed?” the same reporter asked, unsatisfied with my one-word answer.

“I’m feeling a little left out here, man.” Logan leaned back in his chair, and several reporters laughed.

“Next question,” Richard said, then pointed to another reporter in the back row directing questions to my teammates.

I took a sip of my drink, then fiddled with the cap in my hand, chiming in when I needed to.

Before our time was up, Richard called on another reporter who’d been focused on me for several minutes. I didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t mean much—media wasn’t my thing.

“Mikko, I can’t help but notice you’re sporting some new jewelry. Did you get married?”

The cap stilled in my palm, but it was too late to put my hand back under the table.

Shannon had said it was okay to mention her to avoid discussing Leena, but I kept my family private for a reason.

They were mine. Not the team’s. Not the media’s. Not the fans’.

Mine.

Before I decided on an answer, Richard said, “He did, yes. Last question.”

My blood boiled at the simple statement, and even more so when Richard told them about how it was a small, private ceremony.

Carter took the last question, and the three of us filed out of the room.

As soon as we were outside, I stepped up to Richard, waiting until his back was against the cinderblock walls.

“You do that again, I will refuse every single media interview you ever put in front of me. Understood?”

Richard held his hands up. “I told you this would happen. We weren’t getting out of this without saying something, and Shannon gave the okay on the plane.”

“Keep her name out of your mouth,” I hissed. “She told me it was okay, not you. You should have let me answer the way I wanted instead of jumping in.”

Logan pulled me away from him before I let my temper get the best of me, dragging me down the hall.