Page 59

Will Holt sits by the pool deck in his parent’s backyard, legs sprawled in front of him, smoking a cigarette.

“Will,” I say, heart hammering from almost falling, but I know that’s not all.

His eyebrows raise. “It’s been a long time, Nadia.”

Up on that chair, I’m struck by a flash of memories. How he’d been my brother’s friend. The cute guy next door. Cocky and smug. A jock. He picked on me a lot–throwing me in the pool, dunking me under water. The classic trope about the guy pulling a girl’s braids to get her attention.

Will had definitely had mine.

“You home visiting your parents?” I ask, speaking around the lump in my throat.

“Nah, moved back home a few months ago.” He waves to the pool house in the back. I don’t look, a dark feeling burning in my gut. “They let me have my old digs. How’s college?”

“It’s good,” I manage, wiping sweaty my palms on my leggings. “Almost over.”

He nods, taking a drag on his cigarette. Exhaling he says, “Maybe we can hang out while you’re home.”

Panic crashes over me like a wave, a cold, clammy sweat on my neck. “M-my mom needs me to help her with a few things.”

Jumping off the chair, it tips over and clatters on the pool deck. Rushing inside, I head straight to the toilet off the main hall, barely making it before dropping to my knees and heaving inside.

My first instinct is to call Axel. To hear his voice and have him distract me.

But Axel isn’t my safe space.

I’m starting to think that nowhere is.

14

Axel

The black sedanthat picked me up at the airport is waved past the security gate and starts the too short drive into the exclusive neighborhood where Nolan Rakestraw and his family live. My plane landed two hours ago in Dallas. I talked the driver my father sent into stopping for a quick dinner, but I could only procrastinate for so long.

The house doesn’t so much come into view as it rises. I jokingly call it The Real Kingdom, after the name of Father’s church, because that’s what it is; that fucker built himself a castle.

Nolan Rakestraw comes from a long line of southern preachers, back to the days when they rode circuits on horseback, stopping in a new town every Sunday to minister to the desperate souls of East Texas. The call to follow in his ancestors’ footsteps was strong, and my father happily took up the mantle. He wasn’t self-taught like his father and grandfather. He went to college. Nothing like a state university. No football or women. It was a small, religiously focused, allmale school, where he made the connections to take his natural born skills to the next level. College didn’t give him the gift of preaching–of connection to his flock. That was a hundred percent DNA. How do I know? Because I feel it in my blood. This way with people, this charisma, and I do every fucking thing I can to shut it down.

All of that is enough to explain why I feel like I’ve got a rock building in my gut. I’m not foolish enough to think that’s the only reason. I feel like shit about how I left things with Nadia. That is not how I wanted to end that with her and it’s exactly why I don’t let women get close.

I grew up under intense scrutiny. More than any NHL hockey player could ever imagine. People had access to me, to my family. We were on display. We were God’s chosen. And they, I learned quickly, were the key to our livelihood, which meant the people of the Kingdom owned me.

That’s the real reason that, as soon as I hit eighteen, I tried to put distance between me and my family. It doesn’t make a difference. No matter how many tattoos, piercings, or saved goals I have, no matter how much I try to establish my own identity, I’m still Nolan Rakestraw’s son.

I’m the heir to the Kingdom.

It’s been a challenge, but Wittmore is the only place I have that isn’t infected by him, so when Bridget brought up my family at Friendsgiving it was like a bomb went off in my chest. Nadia got hit by the shrapnel, which is totally not fair. She made me the most amazing kolaches. Those pastries were like an orgasm in my mouth, but more than that, I know it took time and effort.

It was maybe the nicest thing a girl has ever done for me.

No, no maybe. Itwasthe nicest thing a girl has ever done for me. And the reaction I felt was fierce. It made me want to stake a claim in her. Let everyone else at the party know she was mine. Celebrate with her. It was only her concern about Twyler findingout that held me back. And, well, I sure as hell don’t want Reese’s foot up my ass. So when Heather started clinging hard, I felt like it was a good diversion but… I knew when she left she was upset. I tried to fix it. I went to her house after to show her my thanks, to kiss her goodbye, to express to her how fucking special she is, but then she asked about my dad and hockey and… I snapped.

Even if I can’t have her the way I want to, I don’t want to lose her as a friend. I’ve got to fix it. I just don’t know how. Unfortunately, that’s not my biggest issue at the moment.

The car coasts down the stone lined driveway, up to the imposing arched front entrance of the house. I take a deep breath and prepare myself to enter The Kingdom.

“How many more have yougotten since I last saw you?”

Shelby stands by my dresser, watching me flip through the clothes in my closet for a shirt. There are dozens hanging neatly on the rod. Crisp button-downs in pale, unassuming colors, along with neatly pressed pants that match the pair I’ve already put on. My mother’s doing.