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It shouldn’t make me nervous, but it does. Especially when it feels like there’s something he isn’t saying. “Okay. I mean, that’s the point of this, isn’t it? To help her get better so she can go back home?”

He nods. “It is. However, due to your mother’s history, it’s highly suggested that she has someone nearby to keep an eye on her after she leaves Logan’s. Maybe not permanently, but just until she settles back into life.”

Rubbing my lips together, I silently nod.

I suspected she’d need to live with me, but I told myself not to think of the details until I needed to.

She was in a bad place before Logan’s; such a bad place that she thought about ending her life instead of fighting to get better.

That isn’t something to take lightly. “All right. I can get a bigger apartment. I can—”

“No.”

I stop when I hear my mother’s voice.

It’s firm.

Settled. “Mom?”

“I will not be the reason that you hold yourself back,” she tells me.

“Alex, I know this is going to be a bumpy road. And I feel good. I really, really do. But I know that I struggle, and I refuse to let that impact your career. You’ve done more than enough for me.

It’s time for you to live your life. The one you’ve worked hard for. ”

What is she saying? “We’re family. We’re all each other has.”

“No, sweetie. That’s not true.” Her voice is gentle, more so than it’s ever been before. “You have Olive now. And I won’t take that from you.”

I shake my head, trying to muster something to say. An argument. A justification. “What’s going to happen to you if you won’t move in with me? Do you need me to hire a nurse?” I turn to Rafner. “I’ve had people come to the house before. I know it’s possible.”

Rafner repositions in his spot. “In some cases, yes. And it wouldn’t be impossible for that to be set up for your mother. But there are other options too.”

Other options? “Like what?”

Mom takes over. “Pam and Dr. Rafner let me meet with a representative from a group who helps house people like me, who might not do well living on their own.”

I blink slowly. “Like a retirement home or something?”

Her smile is small. “Similar to one, yes. But they would have everything I need. Someone to help track my medicine and moods and help me stay active. It’s something I’m considering.”

Instead of living with me? Who is this woman? “Are you sure you want that? Because you hated being here. Who’s to say some group home would be any better? And where would it be? Here? In New York? What about the house in Lindon?”

“Alex,” Rafner cuts in. “Those are all great questions, but let’s take this one step at a time. Your mother is generally interested in making this happen. How about we look into the details, so you can be part of the process. Nothing has to be decided yet. We’re taking baby steps.”

Baby steps.

My mother is taking baby steps.

Her smile grows. “I want you to have the world. That’s all your father and I ever wanted for you. It’s at your fingertips. I’m going to make sure you get it. The way I should have this whole time.”

It’s hard to swallow past the lump in my throat. How long has it been since Mom truly tried to be a mother? I don’t even know the answer to that.

“Okay, Ma.” I let myself accept that. “If this is what you want, I’ll back you. We do this together.”

My mother’s whole face brightens. “Make me a promise, Alexander.”

I swallow. “Anything.”

“Let me be part of your life with her,” she says softly. “Visit me. Together. One day.”

Olive.

She’s talking about Olive.

One day.

Damn do I love the sound of that.

*

Maybe it was the hope in my mother’s words that settled into the depths of my mind and made me glide onto the ice with my head held high and nothing to prove. Or maybe it was Nelson and Moskins joking that my spot was about to be filled by a new rookie that lit a fire under my ass.

Either way, I’m on fire today.

Adrenaline courses through me as I slam Moskins into the boards and grin as I skate away from him as he cusses me out. It takes me no time at all to steal the puck from my teammate, using my stick to collide with the defense and make my quick getaway to the goal.

Three minutes and six seconds into the game, I score the first goal. The guys placed on my team yell across the ice, making Smithy’s smile curl further down his lips.

“Better luck next time,” I tell him unapologetically.

He shakes his head. “Save it for our actual game, O’Conner.”

My grin grows. “Oh, trust me. I’ll have plenty of emotions to channel then too.”

Especially if I come face to face with Devin Parks, who always makes my life hell whenever our teams compete against each other. All because I accidentally knocked out his front tooth during a college game years ago. It happens.

He just never let it go.

Coach Pelfrey smirks when I skate back into formation when he blows the whistle. He adjusts his clipboard under his arm. “Nice work, O’Conner. Keep doing that and I’ll make sure you’re on the starting roster. Hear me?”

Something inside me perks up. “I hear you, Coach.”

The next forty minutes are spent doing drills, passing pucks, and going six-on-six. I score two more goals, get slammed into the boards as payback by Moskins, and take down Gentry by sweeping my stick against his, and getting his skates caught as I glide past him.

Clarkson watches from the center of the ice, his eyes piercing into me as I dominate the ice. He’s either going to chide me about not playing by the rules or congratulate me for getting the points.

By the time practice ends, I’m covered in sweat and want nothing more than to jump in the shower. The captain of the team slides up beside me as we get off the ice, bumping me with his shoulder. “You good?”

“Never better, Cap.”

He’s skeptical. “Try not to take anyone out during our game. If you play like you did today, we’d do better with you on the ice, not in the penalty box.”

“Gentry started it” is my only reply.

He eyes me, making my lips twitch up because he knows it’s bullshit. “If you want to see playtime, I suggest you try not letting any of them bait you. We actually have a chance at taking the first game if you have a repeat of today. There’s no way coach would let you sit it out.”

Pride has my shoulders squaring a little straighter. “That’s the goal.”

“So who are you doing it for?”

It’s not just for one person. But that isn’t what pops into my head. It’s a pair of green eyes—light, mint. And a pair of full lips that are usually painted pink. Olive is always there, in the back of my head, reminding me that she’s always been here.

We make our way to the locker room side by side behind the others. “I’m doing it for a lot of people.”

He makes a thoughtful noise. “Make sure some of those people are prepared for the game then. The first one of the season always gets a little chaotic. Especially since it’s against one of our biggest rivals.”

I don’t think I need to prepare Olive. If anything, I need to prepare the people for her .

I’ve seen what she’s like at games. Whenever she’d attend college matches, I’d hear her voice above anybody else’s in the crowd.

Usually telling us to destroy them. I can only imagine how she is at her brother’s games.

Clarkson smacks my chest and walks toward his locker on the opposite end of the room. As I strip out of my uniform, I stare down at my sweaty jersey, tracing the edges of my number before tossing it onto the bench.

If she’s going to attract attention at the game, then she’ll be wearing my name while doing it, so everybody knows who she’s cheering for the most.