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I smile, and don’t let go of his hand.

"Nice to meet you,Jax."

Chapter Two

Jackson

Isprawl across the daybed, one arm slung behind my head, watching Vegas come alive one what might be my last night of freedom.

The Strip transforms below us, lights flickering on one by one like stars being born. It's magic hour, that golden time when everything looks perfect and anything seems possible.

"To Jackson fucking Holt!" Keller raises his beer, sloshing some onto the deck. "First pick. First round. Called it three years ago and I'm calling it again now!"

My two best friends from junior league—Keller and Donovan—are already half in the bag, celebrating like I've already been drafted.

Between them sits Madison, my agent's assistant, who's here with one job this weekend: keep me out of trouble.

No social media disasters.

No arrests.

No headlines.

"It's not official yet," I say, but I can't stop the grin spreading across my face.

Because itishappening.

After years of 5 AM practices, of my dad's disappointment, of proving everyone wrong… I'm here. One week away from the NHL Draft. One week until everything I've bled for, everything I've sacrificed… sleep, normalcy and relationships, crystallizes into reality.

My name is at the top of every analyst's list in the country.

"False modesty doesn't suit you, Holt," Donovan snorts, adjusting his backward cap. "Iron Ridge Icehawks are practically printing your jersey already."

I take a long pull from my beer, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. The alcohol buzz mingles with adrenaline, creating this perfect, suspended feeling… like I'm flying but haven't started falling yet.

"Well," Madison says, thumbing through her phone. "Their official media account hasn't announced anything, but—"

"But we all know," Keller finishes. He raises his glass again. "Toast to the last vacation where Holt gets to make mistakes!"

I sit up, clinking my bottle against their glasses. "Make? I plan toinventmistakes tonight."

Everyone laughs, but there's a strange tightness in my chest beneath the smile.

Soon, everything changes.

Once my name is called, I'll belong to a team, to a city, to millions of fans.

I'm not just Jackson Holt anymore… I'm property. An investment. A brand.

But that's why I'm here in Vegas. One last party before it's all changed forever.

And tonight? Yeah, tonight is the night I'm just... me.

I set my beer on the edge of the pool and slide into the water, letting the cool liquid embrace me like an old friend. The water laps against my chest as I lean back, propping my elbows on the concrete ledge, and that's when I look across and…

"Shit," I breathe out, a little too loudly.

I can't help but notice the brunette in the cabana across the way. Sunglasses too big for her face, martini in hand, and a smile that makes something stir in my chest.