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“She doesn’t know what she wants,” I argue. “She thinks she wants what my father wants.”

“Dude, listen to yourself. How the hell is that any different from your dad making decisions for her?”

“It just is,” I say, refusing to back down. “I just want her to have options.”

“I know it’s hard to accept, but technically she is an adult. These are her own decisions to make and I know you don’t agree with them, but Nadia… she’s here. And for some insane reason she wants a tattooed, pierced, reformed fuck-boy as her partner, and fuck man,youhave options. Incredible ones and they may give you the chance to help out Shelby later–ifshe wants it.”

The NHL.

“I told coach I don’t want in the draft.”

“With an undefeated season and a game like tonight, I promise you it’s not too late.”

The truth is that I’ve spent my lifetime running toward a cage, and anything out of it never truly seemed like an option. Maybe I’ve been as trapped as Shelby. Or maybe I’ve just been scared.

But regardless, it’s time for me to decide what life I want to live, and who I want to live it with.

23

Nadia

I knowwhen he doesn’t come out with the others that something’s wrong.

Reid strolls out in a purple pinstripe suit and aviators despite the fact it’s dark out. When he signs the last program thrust in his direction he walks over to where I’m standing with Twyler.

“You guys coming to the party tonight at the Manor? I’m DJ’ing.”

“I told Reese I’d come by for a few minutes. I’m leaving early for Tennessee tomorrow.” She looks at her phone. “Where is he anyway?”

“Coach called Ax into his office.” His eyes flick up to mine. “I think he’s sticking around to find out what’s going on.” He holds his hand up in a wave. “See you back at the house.”

“Do you think he’s in trouble?” I ask.

“For that last play? Maybe, but they won, so I can’t see Coach Bryant giving him too hard of a time.”

I have a nagging feeling it’s not Coach Bryant that’s holding him up and after waiting another five minutes I tell Twyler, “I’m going to go check on him.”

“Are you sure?” she looks uneasily at the arena door. “If Coach Bryant really is mad, you don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“I just want to make sure he’s okay.” I squeeze her hand. “If he or Reese comes out, text me.”

“All right, but if Coach Bryant has that vein on his forehead, get out of there.” She gives me a stern look. “I mean run, don’t walk.”

“Gotcha.”

I weave through the remaining fans and push through the arena doors. This takes me to the lobby, but I know my way back to the locker rooms after going with Twyler during the game.

The warm heat of the lobby feels good and as I cross the space toward the back staircase, a man approaches, calling my name. It’s the first time I’ve seen Axel’s father up close. He’s handsome, an older copy of his son with no piercings or tattoos. His hair is closer to gray than blond at this point, but the warm smile is so familiar, it stops me in my tracks. “Miss Beckwith?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Nolan Rakestraw. I wanted to see if we could speak for a moment?” He adds, “It involves my son, Axel.”

“I was just going to look for him.”

“He may be a few minutes longer. That’s all this will take.” He gestures to a bench near the ticket booth. “Please.”

I sit, admittedly both curious and suspicious. There’s no way Axel knew his father was coming to the game. I saw it when he noticed him after intermission. He was flustered for a moment–but in true form, got it together quickly.