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“Yes and no.” This is where it gets complicated, and where it’s hard to explain who my father really is. “I had a lot of energy as a kid. Sitting still was like asking the Devil to sing in the choir, and he knew I needed an outlet. Mom signed me up for everything: football, baseball, basketball, but one day I went with a friend to a hockey game and I was hooked. Then it became pretty clear I wasgood. I made it to the juniors and the recruiters started showing up. He was always going to let me goto college–he just figured it would be a religious foundation and closer to home.”

“But he let you go.”

“One condition for me playing hockey at such a highly competitive and time consuming level, was that I still had to attend church–at least the youth portions. I could live with it, especially once all the girls started showing up.”

“I know this is hard to believe, but I was already cocky at seventeen. I had my first tattoo,” I shift, pointing to a lightning bolt, the name of my team, “and got my eyebrow pierced. I kind of developed this bad-boy persona that attracted a lot of girls and I wasn’t afraid to pursue them.”

“I bet,” she snorts. “You’re like the male version of catnip.”

“Well, my father saw it a little differently, but yeah. I was popular. While I was trying my hardest to be rebellious, to tell my father he couldn’t control me, but in the end, all I did was fall right into his trap. I became a mini-version of him, building his flock, and he noticed.”

Fuck did he notice.

“He allowed me to come to Wittmore because it benefitted the Kingdom. The more popular I become, the more name recognition I have, the more it’ll help when I go back.”

She frowns. “What do you mean, ‘go back?’”

“It’s a family business, darlin’. Started with my great-great grandfather going all the way down the line.” I meet her eye. “I’m next.”

“That’s why you’re not entering the draft.” Her eyes widen. “And why you’ve been living like a sailor on leave for the last three years.”

“Pretty much.” I roll on my back and tuck my arm behind my head. “I may not have the calling in the traditional sense, but there’s no doubt about my destiny and it isn’t tending goal in the NHL.”

Nadia lifts up on her elbow, pulling the sheet with her to cover her chest. “You’re an adult, Axel. He can’t actually make you come back, can he?”

I shrug. “It’s complicated. When he let me come up here, and agreed to pay for my education, I told him I’d come back.” My word means something, and so does my family. “He’s been preparing the congregation for my return this whole time. The prodigal son returns. I may live up here, but they’re following me down there. There’s a plan. A role I’m supposed to step into.” I laugh darkly. “I even have an assignment for when I come home over winter break.”

“People change their minds all the time, can they not see that?”

“Breaking that promise to him would be a scandal, and there’s nothing like a megachurch scandal. It would hurt my mom and sister, who have sacrificedeverythingfor that man and church.” I shake my head. “I can’t do that to them.”

“What you’re saying is that after graduation, you’re heading back to Texas.”

I nod, picking up her hand and running my thumb over her knuckles. “Unless God sends another flood, which I mean, is entirely possible. I’ve done some pretty sinful things.”

“Epic fuck-ups.”

“That’s right.” I rise up, and push her on her back, taking off the sheet in the process. Her body is perfect. She’s perfect and that’s why I confess, “And if there’s only six more months of sinning and fuck-ups left, I want you to be the one I do it with.”

“You didn’t haveto cook for me.” I watch her move around in the tiny kitchen. She looks sexy as hell wearing my dress shirt that hangs down and grazes her thighs.

“I’m not sure this counts as cooking.” She opens a cabinet and pushes up on her toes, reaching for a bowl, giving me a peek of lace and asscheek. “And your stomach was growling and you kept looking wistfully at my cold ramen.”

I hop up and cross the room, crowding behind her to grab the bowls. Her ass brushes against my cock and fuck, well, this may not have been the best idea. Not if I want to eat something other than her pussy.

“I came over right after my game. I didn’t get my standard post-win meal. And,” I lift the hair off her neck and lean in, kissing her neck, “I’m pretty sure we burned a shit ton of calories tonight.”

She turns, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. Her hair is a mess, bunched up from my hands. Under the shirt, I know she’s not wearing a bra and the urge to feel her up, to make sure this is real, is strong–almost a compulsion. I want her. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to stop wanting her, but this is about showing Nadia that she’s more to me than just a warm place. I can get that on sorority row. Here? I get a big bowl of carbs and an awesome chick to eat them with.

Grabbing the spoon, I ladle out the ramen, and pick up both bowls, then head to the living room. Steam rises off the top and the ceramic bottoms are hot. I set both on the coffee table and join her on the couch.

I twirl my fork in the noodles and take a huge bite. “Jesus, that’s good.”

“I’m glad my dollar package of ramen satiates you.” She pulls a blanket over her lap, hiding those gorgeous legs. “I’ve got some pudding cups for dessert.”

“You joke, but I’m a college athlete. We’ll eat just about anything.”

We eat in silence, the only sound is slurping–okaymyslurping, she eats like a princess. Or she tries. A drop of soup dribbles down her chin and I grin.